Finding Purgatory

by Kristina M Sanchez

  “You mean a job?” The look of disappointment on his face as he continued to stare unnerved her. “What?”

  “Are you oblivious to the fact you have everything and you can’t wait to throw it all away?”

  “Have everything?”

  “Your sister is serious, you know. She’ll send you anywhere you want to go. She has the means.”

  She sat up on the bed, turning her back on him. “Great. You’re on her side now.”

  He walked around her so they were face-to-face again. “This isn’t a game. This isn’t about you versus her. She wants what I want—for you to have any future you choose.”

  “I can’t take that Mary Sunshine crap, Raphe. Not from you. There’s nothing wrong with doing things the way you did.”

  “No, there’s not. And if this were a year ago, I would be all for your plan in a heartbeat. A year ago, you were just another poor kid. A year ago, you didn’t have what you have now—a family with the ability to help you get where you want to go. Do you realize how rare it is to have these kinds of doors open for you?”

  “I don’t want her money. I don’t care what doors it opens. I don’t want it. You’re doing well without handouts. I’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, I’m doing well, but I didn’t get here on my own. You think I could afford this house?” He gestured around them. “This is my mother’s house. I have support, but you have a golden ticket. You’re throwing it away like garbage, and for what?”

  “Because I don’t want to owe her anything.”

  “Because you’re afraid of what it will mean if you forgive her. Well, that’s bullshit, Tor. Yeah, she hurt you. There’s no one who would agree she was right to do what she did to you, herself included. But I don’t get the point of holding on to your anger either. You’re only hurting yourself, denying yourself peace, among other things, but also the chance to do what you want with your life.”

  “Fuck her.”

  “Come on. This isn’t rocket science. I know you’re capable of empathy. I’ve seen you with Brooklyn.”

  “What is it you want me to empathize with? Why she lied to me?”

  “Your sister has lost every single person she’s ever loved, do you realize that? I don’t understand how she holds herself up straight. So yeah, maybe what she’s doing for you is partially to make herself feel better, but so what? She’s still bending over backward trying to right a wrong, make amends. She’s still offering you the world.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “You think so?” He pulled back his sleeves, exposing his wrists. “You think you have to tell me how hard it is to forgive?”

  Tori stared at him.

  Raphe always wore long sleeves, even in the deepest part of summer, and with good reason. Tori knew how difficult it was for him to show his scars. Anyone who saw them could guess what they were—the result of a suicide attempt that had come close to being successful. She would never forget the first time he’d shown her that piece of himself and shared his story.

  She was about to run, and he must have sensed that. He’d been pushing—gently at first, like a doctor trying to find the hurt hidden beneath unblemished skin. He knew she was damaged, and she wouldn’t tell him how. But the more he prodded, the more panicked she got.

  Tori had always been different. It was a curse of being a foster child. The other kids, the normal kids, made assumptions. Some of them didn’t understand. A kid had to be pretty bad to get their parents not to love them.

  It wasn’t like that with Raphe, and as much as she tried to tell herself she didn’t care, she did. He treated her like she was normal. When he realized she wasn’t . . .

  Well, she didn’t know what, but she was sure she didn’t want it to happen.

  When he cupped her face in his hands, she tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. She refused to look up, and she could feel the heat of his breath at her crown as he sighed.

  “Something happened. You can tell me what it is. I promise it’ll be all right.”

  She shook her head. She was trembling, and she wanted to be anywhere but there. She wanted to be far away from him because he could see. She didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Why did he know what existed inside her, the ugliness she felt in her blood? Let the other kids guess at why she was in the foster system. They were all wrong anyway. The only thing her parents had done was die. It was everything that happened afterward that had fucked her up, and she didn’t want Raphe to know.

  He brought up his arms, and his fingers trembled as he pulled back his sleeves. Time seemed to stop when she saw the marks.

  They brought to mind a world where Raphe didn’t exist. Her lips twisted in fury. How could he be so stupid, so selfish? But when she raised her head to look at him, the expression on his face was so foreign to her, it killed the angry words on her tongue.

  He was ashamed. He looked the way she felt inside, like he knew he was repulsive and now she could see it.

  The desire to ease his pain, to take that look from his face overcame her anger, and rather than lash out, she ran her fingers along the thick, raised scars. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she held him close, trying to tell him wordlessly that this didn’t change anything.

  Without untangling themselves, they managed to sit on the couch. He tucked her close to him and started to tell his story without her having to ask.

  “When . . .” He swallowed and tried again. “When I was twelve, my mother remarried.”

  The rest of his story was drawn out in halting, jerking sentences. He didn’t look at her. His eyes were dead. Blank. His voice was flat.

  “Before they were married, he was really cool. I thought it was nice to have a father. I thought about calling him Dad.”

  “After the wedding, though, he changed. He lost his temper more often.

  “And then he started hitting me.

  “At first it only happened once in a while, when I was bad, but then it started happening all the time. Never when she was home, and he always hit me in places my clothes would cover.

  “He told me if I told anyone, especially my mother, he would beat me bloody.”

  By then, his voice had faded to a pained sound. He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. Tori tightened her hold on him.

  “I got in a lot of fights at school. Mom didn’t understand why I was acting the way I was.

  “Then, when a teacher pulled me off this other boy, he saw the bruises on my back.

  “He took me to the school counselor. They asked me questions. I freaked out.

  “But I told.

  “And they took me away from my mother.

  “I was angry and scared, but I thought maybe it would get better. Maybe my stepfather would be nice again. Or at least now that she knew, maybe my mother would do something.

  “Except she didn’t believe me. She didn’t believe it was my stepfather who had hurt me. She told the social service people I was rambunctious. I wrestled with the other boys all the time. She told them about all the fights. And it didn’t matter how many times they tried to explain. It didn’t matter when I told her myself.

  “I kept thinking any minute she’ll believe me. She loves me. She has to love me more than him.

  “She refused to do the classes they wanted her to do because she didn’t think she’d done anything wrong.

  “She kept saying, ‘No one is angry at you, mijo. Just tell them. Tell them the truth, and you can come home. Don’t you want to come home?’

  “It drove me crazy. I couldn’t deal with it at all. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t love me. Mothers are supposed to love their children more than anyone. I was supposed to be her most important thing, the most important person in her life. I couldn’t understand what was wrong with me.

  “One day, during a visit, she yelled at me. She said she didn’t know why I was doing this to her, to our family.

  “I felt wrong. Awful. I j
ust wanted it to end.”

  Tori turned in his arms then, squeezing him, and kissed the underside of his chin, his cheeks, until he stopped trembling and his breaths evened out again.

  Coming back to the present again, she closed her hands over his wrists. “How?” she whispered.

  How had he ever forgiven his mother, trusted her again after that?

  Raphe didn’t answer right away. Instead he sat back on the bed with his arms tight around her. He tilted his head, resting it against hers. “A lot of people think forgiveness is weak, and I understand why they say that. Some people aren’t worth forgiving because they aren’t sorry enough or strong enough to overcome their mistakes.

  “Any way you look at it, though, forgiving someone for hurting you is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do in your life. It’s not easy, and it’s not for the weak.”

  Cupping her chin, he tilted her head up. “It really sucks that you’ve had to be as strong as you are, Tor. No one should have to be, but I think that means you’re strong enough to forgive your sister for what she did.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because at some point, holding a grudge is only hurting yourself.”

  He ran his fingers through her hair. “I think you’ve been stuck in hell so long, you don’t know what heaven looks like even when you’re staring right at it.”

  Tori had to laugh. “Heaven.”

  “Think about it, chiquita. You’ve lived most of your life without a family, but now you have one. Your sister is offering you love and support—someone to lean on. What she’s offering you is unconditional. You know it is, because there’s no reason she has to do what she’s done for you. She’s under no obligation. She can walk away anytime, but she won’t.”

  “Ha. She’s done it before.”

  “But she wants to learn from her mistakes.” He brushed the back of his knuckles down her cheek. “The thing about letting people in your life is you give them the power to hurt you, and that’s scary. It’s hard work loving people, letting them love you, but you have so much to gain. You wouldn’t be alone anymore. You would have the ability to not settle for mediocre or whatever you can get.”

  He traced the shape of her lips with the tip of his finger. There was mischief in the way he smiled. “And for the record, most people would kill for what you have right in front of you right now.”

  “What’s that?”

  When he leaned his head forward, his face was so close she could smell his breath, sweet from the gum he was chewing. “A smart, charming, hardworking man who loves you despite the fact you’re the biggest pain in the ass.”

  Tori flushed. She looked down, but she was smiling.

  He chuckled and let his hand fall down the line of her body, tracing her arm before he rested his palm over the bulge of her belly. Her breath caught. “And if you think about it, you have what a lot of people can only wish and dream about. You have a healthy, gorgeous baby.”

  “Maybe she’s an uggo. Have you thought of that?” She tried to joke but her voice shook on the way out.

  “Not a chance.” He lifted one hand to her cheek. “With a mother as beautiful as you, there’s no way she’ll be ugly.”

  Tori’s heart pounded, sending blood through her veins at a frenzied pace. Some part of her screamed, wanting nothing more than to bolt because he was right. Love scared the hell out of her. But longing kept her frozen. Her hand was splayed over his chest, but she couldn’t make herself push him away.

  His eyes searched hers. He bent to her, she pressed up toward him, and their lips met as if the move had been choreographed. It was a small kiss, delicate and unbearably sweet. They stilled for a moment, foreheads touching and breath mingling between them.

  Tori had to shift her weight, but she didn’t let him go. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face at his shoulder.

  He did paint a nice picture of a good life. Heaven, he’d said. But she couldn’t wrap her head around the idea. Other people could have those things, but not her.

  For now, if only for the moment, she was happy enough in his arms.

  Chapter 22: Home

  Ani was having a staring contest with her phone. It was winning.

  The sight of the damn thing was giving her an anxiety attack.

  It wasn’t as though she’d stopped loving her second family. She missed them. But it was like coming near the stove again after being burned. All the planning that had gone into the funeral had necessitated prolonged exposure to them, and it hurt too much.

  They had each other. They knew how to stick together. They were supposed to be fine without her.

  Just like her baby sister should have been fine.

  And just like Tori, they weren’t so fine. At least Indigo wasn’t.

  Blowing out a sharp breath, Ani dialed. Listening to the phone ring reminded her of a foolish game, the one where you held your hand over an open candle flame as long as you could. It was excruciating, and she wanted to yank her hand back. Her finger hovered over the end key.

  “Hello?”

  Ian. At the sound of his voice, every line Ani had rehearsed went out of her head. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. She tried to speak but only managed to sound like she was choking.

  “Hanging up now.”

  “Ian.”

  There was a pause. “Ani.”

  “Yeah.”

  Awkward silence.

  This was the hardest thing she’d . . .

  No.

  Putting her husband and baby daughter in the ground was the hardest thing she would ever do. This should be a cakewalk. “How’s Indy?”

  “You suddenly care again?”

  Ani closed her eyes.

  “No. I’m sorry.” Ian’s voice was gruff—Jett’s tone when he was frustrated. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean that.”

  Her eyes watered. She didn’t know where to start.

  Ian sighed. “I want to be angry at you. I am angry, but Mom isn’t.”

  “I don’t blame you for being angry, and I wouldn’t blame her.”

  “Well, she’s not angry.” Ani could picture him rubbing the back of his neck. “Mom told me there’s nothing that can describe how it feels to lose a baby. She said it’s exactly like watching your brain break down, except with true insanity, you don’t know you’re going out of your mind. But this . . .”

  “You feel it every second of every day. You feel your mind being eaten away,” Ani whispered. “It is. It’s maddening. Trying to accept your child is gone is like trying to accept the sun rises in the west.”

  “That’s about what she said.” Ian’s voice was soft now, more the kind-hearted man she knew. “And you lost Jett, too.”

  “So did you.”

  “No one understands. Jett is, was half of me. I’m missing something.” He cleared his throat. “But I see what you lost. All my relationships, Mom’s two failed marriages—neither of us have ever come close to what you and Jett had.”

  Ani clapped a hand over her mouth. Hearing the words out loud made her light-headed. It made her body quake with the depth of her loss. Jett had been not only a true love but a true partner. For over a year now, she’d been trying to convince herself she should be able to stand up straight, get through life on her own. She wasn’t the kind of woman who had defined herself by her relationship with her husband, and yet she felt incomplete without him.

  “Look, Ani, Indy could use a big sister. If you can’t do it, I’ll try to understand.”

  “No. I can. I’d like to see her, if she’ll let me.”

  “She’ll let you.” He paused. “Just tell me when, and I’ll make sure not to be there.”

  “Ian—”

  “You don’t have to say it.” He sounded tired. “You think it doesn’t affect me? It’s like a sucker punch to the gut every time I look in the mirror. Sometimes, when Mom looks at me, I can see how much she wishes she wa
s looking at Jett.”

  “That . . . that . . . sucks.” Ani wiped away the tears that had gathered under her lashes. “This is all so hard.”

  “Yeah.”

  For a few moments, neither of them spoke.

  “Are you coming back to us?” he finally asked.

  Ani flexed her fingers into a fist, trying to stop the tremble. “I want to try,” she whispered.

  “Then it’s worth it. Just let me know, and I’ll stay home that evening.” She heard him huff. “And if you want to bring your boyfriend, I think Mom would be okay with that.”

  Ani started. “Oh God. Ian, West isn’t my boyfriend.” Her thoughts spun. “A lot has happened this year.”

  “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

  “We’ll talk about it. I’ll tell you the whole story.”

  “Tell Mom and Indy. They’ll fill me in.”

  “Ian.”

  “It really is okay.” His tone was tight but sincere. “We’ll figure it out.”

  Ani allowed herself to feel a kernel of hope. “Thank you.”

  How Ani managed to drive across town with her hands shaking and her heart beating loud enough to drown out the noise of traffic, she didn’t know. When she pulled into the driveway, she had to rest her head on the steering wheel. Chills went down her spine to accompany a cold sweat. Her breath was ragged.

  Clenching her hands in fists, she dug her fingernails into her skin as hard as she could, trying to ground herself. It was the middle of summer, and she was freezing. She didn’t know if she was terrified. It felt like it, but it also didn’t. This was more like torture, like she expected to be tied spread-eagle and naked, helpless as she was flayed alive.

  There were too many memories here.

  Ani jumped when she heard Jett’s voice as though he were right beside her in the car as he had been so many times.

  “Don’t worry, beautiful. They’re going to love you.”

  She gulped in a breath with a gasp.

  It was strange. In the home she’d shared with Jett and Mara, she could shut out her memories for days or weeks at a time. It was as though their ghosts were here. In a way, they were. Mara had shared more features with Jett’s family.