by Coralee June
But at the end of the day, I felt a sense of loyalty to Hamilton that spanned farther than just our relationship. He was deeply hurting. The loss of his mother affected him in ways I was still learning how to process. There was a reason he resented Jack so much. I was piecing it together and learning the road map that led to his bitterness toward his family. I just wanted to know what it was. I felt like understanding the dynamic with Jack would help me understand Hamilton.
“He has no right to be here,” Hamilton gritted. He was clutching his wine glass with a death-like grip, his knuckles white as he stared across the restaurant. “This was Mom’s place. This was the one place where she was fucking happy. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t get to fucking ruin this for me too.”
Hamilton stood up, and I quickly followed after him. Storming across the restaurant, Hamilton walked right up to Jack and slammed his fist on the tabletop. A few people gasped. I jumped and quickly thought of ways I could diffuse the situation. Hamilton had been on edge all day, and this felt like meeting his boiling point. “Hamilton!” Jack said while clutching his fist. “Did you get my invite? I wasn’t expecting you to show up.”
Jack had invited Hamilton?
Jack looked around the room nervously, as if expecting a scene. “I can have the waiter bring up a chair for you? Vera, I’m so glad to see you here too. Your mother has been calling me about the two of you.”
“I don’t want to fucking sit with you,” Hamilton spat. “I blocked your number ages ago so I wouldn’t have to deal with your bullshit.” I touched Hamilton’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off.
“Let’s not do this here, okay?” Jack said, his cheeks red with embarrassment.
“What? You don’t want me to cause a scene, Jack? You don’t want everyone to know how shitty of a husband you were—how shitty of a father?”
Jack cleared his throat and stood up. “You have every right to feel the way you feel right now. But this place is sacred. Let’s not ruin it—”
“It’s already ruined!” Hamilton yelled. “It was ruined when you cheated on Mom and forced her to raise me. It was ruined when she would sneak off to the bathroom before dessert to pop pills. It was ruined when she died, Jack.”
“Excuse me, sir. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the hostess said while approaching us. The entire restaurant was watching the exchange. The pain rippling throughout Hamilton’s flexed muscles could be felt throughout the room.
“Hamilton. Let’s go. Let’s talk about this, please,” Jack pleaded while reaching for his son.
“No. Fuck you. Fuck this place. Fuck everything. I hope you spend the rest of your miserable life with your miserable son. I hope you come here every year and think about the woman you ruined. I hope you think about me, too. How you blamed me… How you killed her!”
Wait…what? Jack killed his wife?
I grabbed Hamilton, this time my grip unyielding. The beautiful, strong man I was falling for broke at my touch. I pulled him in for a hug. It was like watching ice caps melt. He slowly softened. His hand rubbed my back. I lifted up on my toes and kissed his jaw. “Let’s go home, Hamilton,” I whispered. “Please.”
When I pulled back from the hug, Jack was crying. He clutched a handkerchief to his face and stared at the ground, like it would swallow him up.
“Let’s go,” Hamilton whispered before threading his fingers through mine and pulling me through the restaurant. I looked over my shoulder at Jack just before disappearing through the front door, and to my surprise, his eyes were trained on me. I couldn’t quite place the emotion bleeding through his gaze. Curiosity? Pain? Determination?
Something told me I’d learn soon.
23
The car ride home was stiff and silent. I stared out the window, watching the passing cars and lit up buildings while feeling uncertain how to help Hamilton. He was at a breaking point. How could someone that seemed so strong, so sure of himself, crumble so easily? Everything changed so quickly. His mother’s death had a twisted hold on him. His family’s legacy ruined him. I had so many questions about the relationship with his father and the accusations he screamed in the crowded restaurant.
You killed her!
I knew that Hamilton’s mother was depressed because of her cheating husband. I wasn’t sure if the overdose was an accident or not, but I knew that sometimes when people hurt, they liked to escape the heaviness of their thoughts. I understood why, in Hamilton’s grief-stricken mind, he would blame his father—and he blamed himself. Seeing how toxic it was made me painfully aware of the mess I’d made of my relationship with my mother. I didn’t want to get to this level, where every interaction was forced and full of hate. We had to get to a healthier place.
We pulled up to Hamilton’s townhouse, but neither of us got out of the car. “So, that was…”
“Intense?” Hamilton offered. “All day has been very intense.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and mumbled something under his breath. “I’m sorry our night was ruined.”
“It wasn’t ruined. Someday I would like to eat there. Maybe we can go on a calmer day?” I offered. “We can go on a regular Tuesday afternoon. Healing doesn’t have to happen with momentous moments and anniversaries and decisions. It’s the little steps, you know?”
“I’m never going back there. Jack ruined it for me,” Hamilton whispered.
I debated on how to respond and decided to take a risk. “Maybe you and Jack should—”
“Don’t you dare tell me that I should kiss and make up with Jack,” Hamilton interrupted. “You don’t know anything about our relationship. He doesn’t deserve my forgiveness. He doesn’t deserve anything. You don’t know everything he’s done.”
“Because you won’t tell me!” My tone was exasperated. “I’m not pressuring you to, but maybe things would be easier if you just talked to him? Get some closure? It’s not healthy to live your life this way, Hamilton. I lo—care deeply for you. I hate that you go through this every year. I just think if you talked to him, it could help.” I couldn’t believe that I almost admitted that I loved him. Wasn’t it too soon for that? Didn’t we have too much to learn about one another still?
“Oh, like you talk with your mom?” Hamilton replied. “You’ve been ignoring her calls all week. You won’t tell her about us. You won’t call her on her shit for lying about the pregnancy and blackmailing you into cooperation. You’re too scared to piss her off. What are you so afraid of, Vera?”
My eyes watered. “Look, you’ve had a rough day. I get it—”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“My relationship with my mother is my business. Even if I haven’t talked about it with her yet, I’m still here. I’m still with you. I still chose you.”
“You chose a dirty, secret fling that you’ll drop the second your mother comes crying to you. I get it. I get it probably more than anyone else will. You feel like you have to be the best you can be. You shamelessly break your back for her because you feel obligated to make up for the fact that you exist. We’ve discussed it before. I know where I stand, and I can’t hold a candle to your own insecurities and guilt. I don’t even know why I try. This is such bullshit.”
My throat seized up with emotion. It felt like I couldn’t breathe. “That’s not fair.”
“What’s not fair is you telling me to fix my relationship with my father when you have your own issues. I mean, seriously. It’s fucked up, Vera. When are you going to realize how toxic it is? You can’t live in denial anymore. It’s pathetic. You’re being pathetic.”
“I’m ending this conversation before either of us say something we can’t take back.” I opened the door and got out of the car in a huff. Maybe I needed to go back to my apartment for the night and give him some space. Maybe dating Hamilton was a bad idea. This was a side of him that I knew had been lurking in the shadows of his soul, but now that I could see his demons in full bloom, it scared me.
“Vera?” A soft, whimpering voice called out.
“Vera, is that you?”
I let out a shaky breath and looked toward Hamilton’s front door where a willowy woman stood hunched over and clutching her stomach. Mom. Under the porch light, I could tell that her makeup was running down her face from the tears, and her glossy hair was pulled up into a messy bun. She clutched an oversized designer handbag filled with clothes that were practically falling out of the open bag.
I walked closer to her, nerves making me wince. “Mom? What are you doing here?”
She straightened her spine and swiped at the tears streaming down her face. “Hey, baby,” she whimpered. The closer I got, the more her appearance shocked me. There was a blue-black bruise forming on her jaw. A cut on her lip that looked like a bite mark. There was a patch of hair ripped from her scalp, and she held her stomach tightly as if she were bruised there, too.
“What happened to you?” I rushed out before closing the rest of the distance between us. She needed a hospital.
“I had a little tumble, baby. Nothing to worry about.” Her voice was scratchy. She looked too thin. Too broken. I knew she was lying. I could hear it in her tone and see it in the way she avoided my gaze.
It suddenly became very clear. “Did Joseph do this?” I asked.
“He’s just a little mad at me… I was hoping I could stay with you for a couple of days while he calms down. I drove here.”
My eyes watered. “Mom,” I croaked. “He beat you.” I went in for a hug, and she winced. The sad little sound that escaped her lips shredded my heart into pieces. “Why did he do this? I don’t understand.”
“He’s been real mad lately, baby. My faked pregnancy is hitting him hard. He’s stressed with work, and it’s like he just woke up angry at the world. And also…” Her spine straightened with indignation. “He’s very upset with you and Hamilton. You never returned my calls. You’ve been staying here? What are you thinking? This was your fault, Vera.”
I pulled away from the hug and stared at her.
“What?”
She licked her lips, making the cut there bloom red and spill a few droplets of blood. “You know what. I told you that we have to stick together, Vera. We had to be careful. Your little rendezvous with Hamilton has been very stressful for Joseph. I just knew it would blow up in my face. Now look at me.” She lifted her arms up and dropped them helplessly with a groan. “You did this.”
“I didn’t do this,” I whispered. “Joseph did it.” Mom wasn’t thinking right. She was badly hurt and forcing blame on me. I may have had a small part in the destruction of her happily ever after, but she had the starring role. A man is entitled to his anger, but he’s not entitled to making others suffer as a result of it. It felt like somewhat of a breakthrough. For the first time in my life, I didn’t assume responsibility for my mother’s unhappiness and hurt.
“You did this. Hamilton did this,” she snapped, her tone weak. I didn’t know much about abuse victims, but I knew she wasn’t thinking clearly. I couldn’t hold her to a standard of sanity when she was this vulnerable.
I was about to demand that we call the cops when Hamilton started walking up the drive. “Oh look, a family reunion.” He was staring at me, ignoring my mother’s frail body beside me.
“Hamilton—” I began to explain, but he cut me off.
“Her or me, Vera?” he asked. The question caught me off guard. Seriously? He wanted me to choose? Now?
“I’m not choosing,” I snapped. “It’s incredibly selfish of you to ask.”
Hamilton scoffed and shook his head, angrily mumbling to himself as he did. “You’re just like the rest of them. Why bother prolonging the inevitable? You like going to an expensive school and staying in your expensive apartment. I thought you were different. I thought we could have had something, but the second she shows up, you forget about me. Just like Jack. Just like everyone else. Turning a blind eye—”
I’d had enough. From everyone.
“Joseph beat up my mother, Hamilton.” My stark statement made a fresh wave of sobs break through my mother’s lips. “I’m not choosing anyone or anything. I’m taking care of the only family I have right now. Stop projecting your issues with Jack on me. I’m not going to stand here and let you bully me. I’m going to take her to the hospital and back to my apartment because she needs me right now.” Mom let out a choked sob. Hamilton’s shoulders dipped.
“What?” he asked, the fog clearing on his anger as he took a step closer.
“Go to bed, Hamilton. Sort your shit out. I need to take care of her, okay?”
I gently grabbed my mother’s arm and started guiding her toward her Escalade. “Shit, Vera. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see. Joseph did this?”
“It’s your fault,” Mom cried out, her trembling legs nearly buckling beneath her. “It’s all your fault.”
Through the bright moonlight and streetlamps, I saw Hamilton grit his teeth. “Let me come with you, Vera. You don’t have to do this alone.”
I let out a shaky breath. I knew that my mother didn’t want an audience to an already traumatizing experience. And Hamilton wasn’t in the right headspace to be what I needed him to be. “Just stay here please and get some rest? I don’t think you’re capable of helping me right now. I just want to get her to the hospital.”
“Vera. Please let me—”
“No,” I snapped.
Hamilton helped me put Mom in the passenger seat. She was crying to herself, repeating the same thing over and over. “I hate you. I hate you both,” she sobbed before putting her head in her hands. I swallowed that hate and buried it in my chest, suffocating the notion with determination. After shutting the passenger door, I stood outside with Hamilton for a moment, awkwardly wrapping my arms around myself and searching for the words to say.
“Are you sure I can’t come with you?”
“Positive,” I whispered.
Hamilton looked like he wanted to reach out and touch me but instead balled his hands into fists at his side. “Please call me if you need anything. I’ll fix this, okay?” Hamilton said.
“I’m not going to call,” I admitted.
“What? No. This is just a setback, Petal. I’m an ass. An insensitive asshole. I fucked up. I can fix this, Petal. I can take care of Joseph once and for all. I can make them all pay and protect you—even protect your mother.” I didn’t need his protection.
He reached out to grab my shoulder, but I shrugged out of his reach.
“I’ve got it all covered, Hamilton. I don’t need you to fix this. I need you to fix yourself.” I let out a sigh, tears filling my eyes.
He looked down at his feet as I shoved past him to get in the driver’s side. The moment I started the car, my heart sank. This felt like the end of it all, somehow. And I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
24
I’d seen my mother battered and bruised before. She once dated a married man and came home with a shiner on her face. The wife wasn’t too happy when she found the two of them together in her bed. She also rode a bike to work when she couldn’t afford a car and then crashed it into a ditch. Proud and determined, she came limping home with a broken foot and a bent bike frame. It never did heal right.
She handled pain. Delivered me without an epidural because she didn’t want to spend the money. She endured bitter winters without a coat to save money. She had cigarette butt indents in her stomach. A ripped earlobe from when she had a stud yanked out.
But I’d never seen her like this. Cracked wide open. Raw. Bloodied. I wasn’t sure if it was the physical injuries making her tremble and cry out. No, it was the mental anguish that had her twisted in knots.
Mom refused to go to the hospital, so instead, I took her to the apartment that didn’t feel like mine anymore. I helped her into the bathtub and gasped at the number of bruises that littered her chest and torso. Most of them were easily hidden. Joseph knew exactly what he was doing. He had experience hiding his cruelty. I made out the imprint of fingerprints on her hips. Deep scratches along her sid
es. Dried blood between her thighs. “Mom, you have to go see a doctor. You need help,” I whispered for what felt like the millionth time. My heart was breaking for her. All this time, I didn’t see the signs. Her desperation to make sure we were making Joseph happy stemmed from her own sense of self-preservation.
“I don’t want to,” she snapped before easing into the warm water mixed with Epsom salts. Feeling helpless, I grabbed a washcloth and started gently running it over her skin. Without clothes, my mother looked too thin. I could count the bones in her spine, each disk protruding against her thin black-and-blue skin. She bent her knees and rested her chin against them, the bones cutting into her face as she let out a sigh. “I just have to stay here a couple days while he calms down. It’ll get better, you know. I just need to let him relax. He doesn’t want to see me like this. It hurts him to see me like this. I know he feels guilty. He loves me so much. I made him angry. It was my fault—”
“Mom,” I replied gently, as if worried I’d spook her. “It wasn’t your fault. You can’t go back to Joseph like this.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Vera,” she gritted as I ran the cloth over a particularly nasty cut on her back. Some of her injuries looked older, like this had been going on for a while.
“Has this happened before?”
“Joseph is a passionate man,” Mom mumbled. “He feels things stronger than everyone else. It’s what attracted me to him. I like it rough.”
I gagged. “This isn’t rough, Mom. This is brutal.”
A single tear fell down her cheek, and I wiped it away. “You can’t go back there.”
“And where would I go, Vera? I have nothing. We have nothing,” she sobbed. “I can handle this, okay?”
I exhaled before lathering up shampoo in my palm and scrubbing her scalp. She jumped when my nails ran over a tender spot of baldness. He ripped out her fucking hair.