Page 20 of Devil’s Torture

My heart flutters at her words even though they might be too generous. I was always careful, with the good and the bad of who her dad was, but I never spoke about him like some dead beat who walked out on her. Because it’s not what happened.

He might have walked out on me, but he never knew Dawn existed and I was always very clear about that.

“He looked hurt,” her words are so soft and edged with pain that my heart aches for my daughter.

She’s always been kindhearted. Toward everyone. When she was a toddler, I was worried she was too free with her kindness, especially to strangers.

Then I noticed how discerning she could be. Her trust wasn’t something everyone would gain in an instant.

I decided to allow her empathy to grow untethered. While maintaining a watchful eye.

Her sensitivity has also never prevented her from speaking her mind. She’s never allowed it to make her feel small or like a liability. It’s one of her many strengths.

She is kind, but she can be cutting when she needs to be and she has a strong sense of herself. I wish I had her confidence when I was her age. By then Ron was already in my life and I was learning things about rooms that had nothing to do with freedom.

“I’m sure finding out about you did hurt him. Not just because he didn’t know, which might have felt like a betrayal, but also because he missed so much.” I shoot her a look. “You know how hard it is for me whenever you hit a new phase. He’s getting that all at once and even learning that he is a father.”

I’m not trying to be generous; I’m trying to be rational. It’s not easy when I’m literally torn in two emotionally. On one side I want to burn down the world with a Molotov cocktail while swigging a bottle of wine before lighting a cigarette to enjoy the show. The other side wants to curl into a ball and have a really good cry.

“Do you think he meant what he said?” The question is timid as it leaves my daughter’s lips which is unlike her. When my eyebrows pull together in question, because he didn’t say much while saying a whole fucking lot, she explains, “About not leaving again.”

“Your farther was always honest with me, the only exception being when my safety was involved or if it truly was club business that had nothing to do with me.” My lips press together in a thin line because I hate how true my words are. “Even then, he simply wouldn’t say anything. He wouldn’t lie to me, but he wouldn’t be forthright either.”

“You still don’t know why he left?”

“No,” I’m honest with her, “I might never know. But that has nothing to do with what kind of relationship you have with him. Nothing.”

She looks at me for a long moment. “He still kind of left me, though.”

“However it happened, the end result was that he was gone for ten years.” My words are slow at first and she nods. “I didn’t even know I was pregnant that night. So, he definitely wasn’t working with all the facts. I don’t necessarily blame him for that.”

“I don’t either,” Dawn breathes out. “Do you think he wants to get to know me?”

There it is. Fragile. Soft. Honest.

“I think he would be lucky to even have the chance to get to know you.” She gives me a look like she expected me to say that. “Whether he wants to get to know you isn’t the question you need to be asking.”

“Then what should I be asking?” She asks while rolling her eyes and holding out the words like I’m being ridiculous.

“Do you want to get to know him?” Her lips press together and her face does the thing it does when she’s really considering my question. “I’ve told you stories about who he used to be. I don’t even know the man he is now. But you have to ask yourself if you want to get to know him. You don’t have to have an answer right now.”

Her mouth twists to one side. “I get that most families have a mom and a dad, but I never felt like I was missing out on something. Not even on Father’s Day.”

The pressure in my chest eases slightly. I’ve tried to be everything she needs, but it’s impossible to know if you’re successful.

“Maybe I just didn’t know any better to miss it,” she muses.

And the fuzzy feeling goes a little flat.

I love how she can raise me up and then crush me without even realizing she’s doing it. I’m not sure if it’s a universal skill kids have or not. I can only hope it isn’t, but it probably is.

“If I get to know him, will it hurt you?”

“No,” my answer is immediate.

And it’s mostly true. It won’t hurt me for the two of them to forge some sort of relationship. They were supposed to have one from the start. That’s just not what happened. I can’t change it now.

What I can do is not make it harder on my daughter.