I gasped when he turned us, pressing us against the hard wall and wrapped my leg around his waist. His body began grinding against mine, our tongues clashing in a fierce battle for dominance and submission. He won, of course.
When it came to Aaron...
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I couldn't deny the utter web of utter bullshit I was stuck in. Or maybe, I created the web? Perhaps I was the murderous black widow, slowly sucking the life out of the men she sleeps with?
If I was, I definitely didn't feel like that now. Not sobbing empty pathetic tears of lost hope, whilst my child out of wedlock slept soundly in the back. Seriously, how does she do that?
It didn't matter because I envied her so hard right now. That's right I envied my one year old because she was unaware of the harsh realities of the world.
She didn't know about global warming, terrorist attacks, socially constructed conventions. She didn't need to behave in a proper manner or get a job or stress. Instead, she laughed and played and was genuinely happy in her own bubble.
I loved my baby girl, but right now I envied the hell out of her.
Taking a breath, I centred myself. The great looming shadow of my family home cast over the car we sat in, a reminder of my sinful past, and painful memories.
I must have stormed out of that door a hundred times, once it even shattered behind me, revealing a very scary looking Gabrielle Romano on the other end. I left through that door when I went to parties with Tessa, left through it with Tristan for school and when I was kicked out for Aaron.
Because once upon a time I sacrificed everything for him, for love.
I took that great scary risk that everyone said paid off in the end and although I have my daughter, who I wouldn't trade for anything in this world, and a myriad of happy peaceful memories, I also had suffering and lingering pain that would never go away. I also had trauma, it was stupid to say that. I mean men went to war and they returned with trauma, that's deserving of the word, but to me i have trauma too.
To me, I have scars that will never be visible to outside world. To Aaron.
He will never see the permanent scars of the pain he inflicted upon me, but I do. I see it every time I look in the mirror, I hear his soul wrenching words and they destroy them. They carve themselves into my skin and my mind and they destroy me.
In my mind, I'm scarred and broken and damaged and flawed.
Seeing Aaron with another woman, a perfect beautiful stunning woman, brought the mirror out. I wasn't good enough. I hurt him so he hurt me back. Hard.
There was no-one to blame but myself, I shouldn't have lied, but you see Anastasia is not scarred. She's flawless, she's happy and she's never felt pain. Not like I did, not like her father inflicted.
So, I did my job. I kept her hidden, not just because of the mafia and the gang, otherwise I would have cut my family off completely, but because I wanted to save her from pain.
Emotional pain was a bigger bitch than physical at times. She shouldn't experience it yet, maybe I should have let her? However, I took that risk once. It didn't pay off, I couldn't do it again.
