Page 200 of Chasing Hope

“Take your time, Dove,” he whispers. “Just breathe through it, baby. One step at a time.”

Nodding against his chest, I have the sudden overwhelming urge to break down and cry but I force the emotions away and tell myself that it can come later. The tears, the screaming, the anger…it can all come later.

For now, I need to put myself and my story first. It’s time someone protected the little girl heviolated.

“How long do you think I have before the internet catches wind?” I hear myself ask. Matteo tenses. Lifting my head, I rest my chin on his chest, not willing to let him go yet. “Matteo?” I probe.

He blinks down at me and that’s when I realize he’s blinking away tears.

His voice, thick as gravel and full of emotion, croaks out, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you from any of this.” He clears his throat before whispering, “It’s already begun.”

I attempt to reassure Matteo with a smile. “You’re not the one who needs to apologize.”

“It breaks me to watch this all unfold but we’ll get through it together, okay?”

“Okay.”

Grounding myself with his touch, I take in one deep pull of air through my nose before stepping away and sighing. “Let’s get this over with.”

Six hours.

Six hours of talking in detail about what my father did to me.

Hours of me choking on sobs that wouldn’t ease.

Moments where I thought I wouldn’t be able to continue, where my throat closed up and I couldn’t get the words to come out.

Couldn’t say how he made me bleed.

Couldn’t talk about the words he whispered in my ear. Or the moments his hand clenched my thigh under the table. Or the shopping trips he took me on to appease his guilt.

It was all lodged in my throat…until it wasn’t anymore, and the little girl within me that has been pleading for a way out told her story in detail for the first time.

I’ve never been so fucking exhausted in my life.

I’ve never purged such heavy emotions before, have never had to bare my soul to strangers, have never felt like my experience was under a microscope.

As they open the door to the interview room, the female detective walking me out, I’m surprised I can move my feet at all. Surprised that my body is cooperating with my mind.

Yet as heavy as the conversation was, as raw and vulnerable as I had to get, there’s a part of me that feels relieved to finally have the truth out there. That people are finding out what he did andbelievingit.

Matteo believed me.

Caleb believed me.

The officer believed me.

What a shame my mother couldn’t be on that list.

I’m unsure whether to tell Caleb everything—like the horrendous things our mother said to me, how she tried to force him back into my life and forcemeto remain silent—but the days of secrets are over. It’s not my fault that they’re heavy; the blame resides solely with our parents.

Officer Lilith opens the hallway door leading to the foyer. Matteo’s in a chair, head hanging between his shoulders, elbows resting on his knees, but he jumps to his feet the moment I step through. He moves for me, but once he sees my glazed eyes and how my shoulders are slumped, he pauses, hesitating.

Bless his heart.

He doesn’t need to ask, I just dip my chin. In the next breath, he steps into my space and wraps me in a tight embrace, kissing the top of my head. “You’re so brave, my beautiful Dove,” he whispers. “So goddamn brave to have the courage to spread your wings and fly.”

Breathing in his scent, I lay my cheek on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his beating heart.