Beautifully Destroyed (Beautifully Broken)

The front door opens, and I freeze from the sound, the sob that was tearing a burning path up my throat stalling and swelling until I can’t suck in another breath.

“I’ll be upstairs,” I hear Uncle Josh say.

I feel Dad nod, and only when Uncle Josh’s footsteps fade away does Dad lift me to his chest as he climbs to his feet. He walks us into one of the bedrooms and kicks the door shut behind him before he sits down on the side of the bed, still cradling me protectively.

“I don’t want anyone else to know,” I say, my voice weak and pathetic to my own ears.

“Whatever you want, Fin.” Dad just holds me, and the feeling that I’m safe starts to trickle through the cracks the trauma left in my soul. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I just want my dad,” I whimper.

“I’m here, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere for a while.”

The trauma keeps hitting in waves, and I go from crying my heart out to just leaning against Dad, too exhausted for anything else.

I’ve been fighting so hard to keep from breaking down, hiding the attack from everyone, and now that Dad’s here and I’m safe, it’s raw and soul-crushing.

But it also feels like I can finally breathe. That I don’t have to struggle through the horror alone.

It feels like Dad will make everything better like he always has.

He’ll kiss the scrapes and stick a bandaid over them.

He’ll hold me until I fall asleep.

He’ll be there to chase the boogeyman away after a nightmare.

Dad’s here.

I’ll be okay.

ETHAN

Sitting on my porch with my feet propped up on the railing, I slowly sip on a cup of coffee as I watch the Drakes follow Stanley up the stairs to the house they’re looking at buying.

Just like yesterday, Mr. Drake has a tight hold on Finlay. I take in their body language, which gives the impression they’re heading to a funeral instead of viewing a house.

My attention is drawn away from the yellow and white rental as Dad comes up the stairs.

There’s no hiding anything from my father.

“Hey,” I murmur before drinking the last of my coffee. I lower my legs from the railing and set my cup down next to my chair as Dad drops onto the other deck chair.

“Tell me what happened,” he gets right to the point.

Leaning forward, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly while my eyes lock on the ocean. “Mrs. Chapel’s been making me feel uncomfortable, and when I asked her to stop touching me, she lost her shit.”

Where Mom would’ve been up on her feet, ready to slap the living crap out of Chelsea, Dad doesn’t move a muscle.

“She touched you? How?” Dad asks, his voice low and filled with a world of danger.

Not knowing how to explain it, I mutter, “Just excessively touching, Dad.”

“Where?” Dad growls, his jaw tight and his eyes burning like dry ice.

“Mostly my arm or back. Nowhere inappropriate.”

“How long has this been going on?” Dad asks before rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip.

“This year… since she joined the gym in February,” I admit.

Dad’s eyes narrow, his gaze taking in every inch of my face. “She lost her shit?”

“Yeah.” I let out a heavy sigh. “Luckily, Barb stepped in, so I wasn’t alone with Mrs. Chapel. The last thing I want is the town thinking I threatened her.”

“Good. From now on, you’re never alone with that woman,” Dad grumbles. I nod, then he asks, “You need to talk about how it made you feel?”

I shrug, and leaning back in my chair, another heavy sigh ripples from me. “Just… it’s… I feel weird.”

“Weak?” Dad asks, his tone much softer.

I nod. “Like she took a swing at my manhood.”

“Totally normal, Ethan.”

Turning my head, I glance at Dad. “It feels wrong. I’m a man. I’m stronger than her.”

Dad shakes his head. “Just because you’re stronger than someone, it doesn’t mean they can’t take advantage of you. People like Chelsea, they’re conniving and have mastered the art of abusing people. Narcissists.”

Dad reaches across the space between the chairs and places his hand on my shoulder. “Doesn’t mean you’re less of a man. Why didn’t you come to me when it started?”

I turn my gaze back to the ocean. “Felt stupid complaining about something so small.”

“It’s not a small thing if there’s a woman out there harassing you.”

“The town –”

“Fuck the town,” Dad snaps. He leans closer to me, locking eyes with me. “All that matters is that you’re safe and happy, son. I don’t give a fuck what this town thinks. You get me?”

“Yes.”

Dad rises to his feet and pulls me up from the chair, wrapping me in a hug. “You have a right to protect yourself at all times.”

I nod against his shoulder.

“She comes at you, you immediately call me.”