Helpless

My Cherie Amour

Our stay here in Johnny's Island was coming to an end. We had spent six glorious weeks here. During that time, I was able to recover. My bruises began to fade. My ribs were nearly healed. I began to look like my old self again. But the scars remained on the inside. Occasionally, I would get flashbacks of the time I was held captive. Of the beatings. The humiliations. And even...the rape itself.

Johnny had been amazing with me. When I would wake up from a nightmare, completely drenched in sweat, Johnny was always there to calm me down. To hold me. And assure me that everything was going to be okay. Sometimes, he would stay up for hours after I had fallen back asleep. Just so that he was sure I was okay and that the nightmares had stopped.

I was going to miss living here. I felt safe here. I felt protected. No one had access to me unless I allowed them to. But life had to continue beyond the comfort and the security of the island.

That morning, Johnny, Christi, and I decided to have breakfast together. It was the day before we were flying back home. And I loved having Christi around. She wasn't just Johnny's older sister. She was also my friend. I considered her my older sister as well. Having her around was comforting.

My phone rang. It was my mom. My dad had just begun their tour around Latin America, and they wouldn't be home back in California.

"It's my mom," I smiled. "I'll be back."

"Okay," Johnny smiled and gave me a quick kiss before I walked towards the beach.

"Hi, mom" I smiled. "How are you?"

"Good, mija," I could almost see her smiling. "Ready to come back home?"

"Not really," I sighed. "I'm gonna miss this place. I guess I'm not ready to go back to reality."

"I can only imagine," she began. "But baby, it's time for you to go back home. And Johnny is going to be right there with you. He told your dad he was going to be looking after you and insisted that he would bring you along anywhere he went."

I laughed. That was so like Johnny. Worse than my dad.

"We tried telling him that you were capable of taking care of yourself back home," she laughed. "But you know how he is. He refused. Even after we told him we would hire security for you. He wouldn't hear it. He wants you with him at all times."

"I know," I sighed.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"Sometimes I feel guilty," I confessed. "I don't want to feel like a burden to him."

"Oh, baby," she began. "He loves you. I know he can be a bit overprotective. But that's real love. I feel that you two bring the best out of each other. You two compliment each other beautifully. Give him some time. He will relax. It's still too soon for him."

"You're right," I sighed. "He has been nothing short of wonderful."

"Before I forget," she said, interrupting my thoughts. "We bumped into Fernando and his family back in Mexico. He asked for you. He said he hasn't been able to keep you out of his mind."

I stayed silent. Fernando was a famous Mexican singer. A romantic singer. He was considered one of Mexico's most handsome men. And he was extremely charismatic. I knew he'd had a crush on me from the minute he met me in my early 20's. And although I always found him to be incredibly handsome, I couldn't see myself with him. And now that I was in a committed relationship, I had no interest in reaching out to him.

"I'm taken, mom," I finally responded. "I am not interested."

"I didn't mean it like that," she responded. "But you two could still be friends."