In to Her

Familiar strangers, that’s all.

I realize that Logan did shut up and all during this introspection the room has been silent.

He’s staring at me and I’m staring back.

“What?” I say. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

He says, “Do you have a picture of him?”

“Who?” I ask, thinking maybe he means Chris.

“The baby boy.”

“Oh,” I say, suddenly feeling heavy, and sluggish. “Yes. I have one from the day he was born. That’s it.”

“You never saw him again?”

I shake my head. “No. I signed the papers and that was it.”

“I imagine that was hard. Maybe… the hardest thing you’ve ever done.”

“Logan,” I say. “What part of ‘you don’t get to know me’ didn’t you understand? I’m not discussing my personal life with you.”

“Harder than being raped, maybe?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Harder than being held prisoner.”

“I’m warning you—”

“Harder even than running away and starting over.”

I don’t bother finishing my sentence.

“Because I get it, Yvette.”

“Get what?”

“Why giving him up was the hardest thing, and the easiest thing, you’ve ever done.”

I exhale. Thinking about that.

“Because it’s one thing to be a girl who is raped, and beaten, and possibly killed. But it’s something else altogether to be the mother of the man who does those things.”

I just look at him.

“That’s why you had to leave. You did it for him. You left and took all those risks so that no matter what happens to you, that baby boy wouldn’t grow up to be his father.”

I nod, my eyes filling with tears. “I couldn’t keep him,” I say. “I wasn’t safe. And if I wasn’t safe he’d never be safe. Kids need to feel safe, ya know? Or they start doing things that—for whatever reason—give them the illusion of safety. But really all they do is hurt others. People like Damon hurt others because they’ve been conditioned to feel fear and fear makes people do awful things. I was not going to turn my son into one of those fearful, unsafe people who do awful things to others in order to feel better about their shitty circumstances. So yeah… it was the hardest and easiest thing I ever did.”

Logan gets up out of the chair, walks across the room, and puts his arms around me. He hugs me tight and I let him. I let myself cry too. No sobs. Just a few tears down my cheeks.

He says, “You did the right thing, Yvette.”

Chapter Twenty-Four – LOGAN

I take her and lead her out into the living room. Over to the couch where I sit, pulling her into my lap so I can hold her. I don’t love her. She doesn’t love me. But everyone needs to feel cared for. Even women like her who force themselves to move on, who turn themselves into silent warriors in order to protect something bigger than themselves, want to feel cared for.

For some it’s an idea or a personal philosophy. A way to make the world slightly better when they leave than when they entered. For others it’s just a survival skill.

I think for Yvette it’s both.

And I can respect that.

I let the silence hang as I formulate a new plan of action. Let that silence surround us like a cloak. Outside there’s the faint hum of a motor. AJ clearing the parking lot. They’re a lot alike. Both of them are dreamers and I’m just a pragmatist. I can understand AJ falling for her. It’s easy for him to be into this woman.

It’s also easy to find her vulnerable side too. And even though AJ doesn’t really come off as the Prince Charming type, he’s always had it in him. The potential has always been there.

Me, on the other hand, I’ve never been that guy. I am the most selfish, greedy, egotistical, narcissistic asshole there is. I mean, sure, there are others out there like me. Lots of us. But I’m right up there in the top ranks, I think.

I always have an ulterior motive. Always have a hidden agenda.

Except I don’t even bother to hide it. That’s why Damon doesn’t trust me. That’s why I have the ironic nickname.

“So,” Yvette says, finally breaking our silence. “What do we do?”

“Do you want to live?” I ask her. “Because if not, then my job gets a lot easier.”

She thinks about this for a while. So long, in fact, I start to wonder why that fucking question is so damn hard.

Then it hits me. “Did you love him?” I ask.

“Damon?” She huffs.

“No,” I huff back. “That’s just stupid. That guy, Chris. Was he your soulmate and shit?”

Again with the silent introspection.

“Yvette, that wasn’t a trick question.”

“I don’t know,” she says. “I loved him. And just thinking about him being gone hurts my heart.” She suddenly sits up and looks at me. “But you know what hurts worse?”

“What?”

“That Damon was the one who took him away.”