It Should Have Been Like This

Book Eleven: broken

(This chapter is a little bit depressing and tense, just so you'll know. Don't hate me)

Lavender's viewpoint

   Ferris parked the car at the gate of my suppose home. After I cried, he never said a word about it again and just took me home. I was silent, I didn't say a word after that too and we let the awkward silence reign in the car and dominate my mind with depression and anger. I knew I was being inconsiderate, but I also knew I deserve to be, so not my fault. What I was angry about was that he had to suffer too. If he didn't, my stupid heart wouldn't consider him for a second but knowing he did and there was a big chance that he did love me, my heart was starting to turn against me.

   I was pissed because I was sorry for him and wanted to end everything, but I would never, not after what he made me go through. The part where my children were ill didn't matter, the fact that we lived from hand to mouth can he easily forgotten, the fact that I faced humiliation as a beggar was nothing, but the fact that he ruined my life was everything. Me, the innocent girl he changed, the woman who suffered. Can he remove the memories of me using my body as a last alternative to save his children's lives? Can he make me forget the pain and how filthy I still felt? How disgusted with myself I am? I could no longer look at myself in the mirror with pride or admire the beauty I once was.

   Even though it was four years ago, the memories was still fresh and painful as if it was yesterday. I could still feel their creepy hands on my body, their hideous breath on me and their filthy tongue coating me with their saliva. I remembered that particular man who was obsess with BDSM and I endured it because he paid better. How about the other one who wouldn't admit to himself that he was gay but was still obsess with anal. I endured everything and that's what pained me the most. Their touch and kisses was nothing like Rominic's or even Ferris', they didn't care about me in anyway and it made me wish–then–that I was with him.

   Those memories, the emotional and physical pain, the beating I got one time from one of them who wanted an insane thing but I refused, the time one of their girlfriends barged in and the insults... God! I can never forgive Rominic! I can never! If I didn't have kids, I wouldn't have done that, but I did because his children needed treatment. Whatever he thought he went through, I went through it in seven folds. So no, he does not deserve my forgiveness and I will not let my heart manipulate me.

   "Goodnight." I said coldly. My anger wasn't directed at him but I couldn't help the bitterness that slipped into my tone. I opened the door and step only one leg out before he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back in.

   "Are you going to hate me now?"

   "No, I'm not, but I'm angry. I just remembered everything I went through and I know he doesn't deserve my forgiveness," he sighed and nodded, not commenting on it. "What do you want?"

   "To see my godchildren, that's what," he chirped, like he didn't look frustrated a second ago. The way his eyes brightened was amazing, always have been and always will be. "I'm sure the others would want to too."

   I chuckled. "I'll see their schedule and fix a date, if that's okay," he nodded his head vigorously. "Okay, goodnight then?" He nodded but didn't let go of my hand. "Erm, Ferris?" He was looking at me intensely, the excitement completely washed from his eyes and replaced with something I couldn't read. "Ferris?"

   "Sometimes, thinking about the future is better than dwelling in the past, no matter how hard and bitter it is. One would say there's a reason for everything, but I don't believe that shit. Instead, I believe in working towards the future and letting go of the past. Work towards your future, Jam, remember you have little ones to set an example for." I pressed my lips into a thin line, glaring dagger at him. He used my mother's words, the exact words because he knew it was the only thing that could cut through my thick skull. At least, if it was then, it would have been so, but I was not the Lavender Jamila Amherst he or anyone used to know. I'm the sad, bitter and furious woman who changed to become strong enough to provide for her kids.