The Return

Chapter Twenty Four

The plan was simple. Get in, pack enough sweaters and pants for a three-day trip to Manhattan and get out.

Aunt Ruth was already aware of Holly's impromptu return and was setting up her three-bedroom upstate condo for her niece. Initially, however, she hadn't been too pleased with the idea. Unlike Georgia who spent only a quarter of her life in Nigeria, Ruth, had lived nearly half of it in Owerri. It was safe to assume the woman wasn't as lenient as Georgia was.

To Ruth, Holly's three-day trip back meant missed classes, delayed assignments, and a severed connection to her parents. Holly was going to get an earful.

A knock at the door had her eyes squeezing shut. She felt a shockwave of resentment.

Georgia worked nine-to-five. It was 3:15 P.M.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Suddenly Aunt Ruth calling her an Olodo in countless dialects was the least of her problems.

Not this, not now, not him. He clicked the door shut behind him. Her mouth ran dry.

When did she say he could come in?

His footsteps were slow, heavy.

Her eyes snapped open. She wasn't scared of him. No, she despised him. And until she was back from Manhattan, she wasn't ready to forgive and forget.

"You don't need to keep avoiding me," She turned to him.

Her heart rate sped up as the memory of his sharp-edged words slit her ordinarily tough skin.

He didn't see it. Through those narcissistic eyes, how much he had hurt her, them...

"We can move past this,"

Was this his new strategy? Prey on his daughters one by one when Georgia wasn't home? What in the name of God was he doing home? Shouldn't he be coaching some college baseball team somewhere?

"Let bygones be bygones."

His words tore her heart to shreds. Not because she missed her father and hated fighting with him. She wanted to bury herself in her blankets and weep because this was the man she was dealt. Like the heavens were playing a sick joke and they thought the self-absorbed asshole will be a fitting figure to raise two daughters.

"Can we not do this?" She zipped up her carry-on bag and slung it over her shoulder. She let her eyes dance on every tabletop and surface for anything she could have missed. Her packing was haphazard, but it would have to do.

Toothbrush, underwear, tampons, backup sweaters for her sweaters...

"Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said those things." He was always sorry.

She side-stepped him and pulled her door open. She didn't notice till she was out, how claustrophobic her room had become in his presence. She jogged down the stairs.

"I was disappointed and scared and I didn't handle the situation properly." Excuses.

Phone charger! She tugged it off the wall socket.

He was like a stubborn shadow she couldn't shake.

She pulled the front door open, he pushed it shut. She stumbled backward. She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, wordlessly counting down from ten.

"What the hell, Vaughn?" She tried not to crumble beneath the sense of disgust that pressed down on her shoulders. "You don't get it do you?" What would Dr. Williams instruct her to do? Breathe. Think. Turn off all instincts. "We don't care how many times you apologize; we want a guarantee that you wouldn't pull the same thing twice."

"I never meant to hurt you," He took a step back. Several steps and sat at the foot of the stairs.

She rubbed her temples.

She couldn't forget the faces, their voices, their sobbing and yelling. They were more than a fling over a job interview, they loved him. All of them loved the version of himself he painted to get into their panties.

"What do you want me to say? I forgive you for sleeping with more women than you could keep track of while you had a loving wife and two kids at home?" She wanted to run, but her feet were planted in place. "You turned us into the black sheep of our social circle knowing how important our reputation was in this neighbourhood. Or you weren't thinking that far ahead?"

She was going to miss her flight. Going to fall apart. She couldn't let that happen. He wasn't going to subdue her.

Her head felt jumbled up.

"I shouldn't have done that. Any of that." Her skin felt cold. "I was selfish, impulsive, stupid. There's nothing I can say that's going to make this better, but give me another chance."

"How many more chances, Vaughn?" Her voice hitched.

The tears rolled down her cheeks in a warm stream, her breath, choking gasps. He did it.

He broke her.