Wanting My Assistant

Chapter 43

Dawson slowly turns the corner into the neighborhood that's all to familiar. All the horrible memories coming crashing into my mind as the blink clicks throughout the car. It's a new day. Maybe they won't be as bad?

It's my parents. Who am I kidding?

   Dawson's hand gives my thigh a squeeze and a sigh escapes me, my eyes soaking up the image of my childhood neighborhood. It's all just as I remember. The two story houses still all white, beige, green, and blue, yards still fenced and dogs still running up and down the fences. People still walk around the block, checking for mail at their neat black mailboxes. Even some of the cars are the same.

   Dawson drives slowly, also looking around. "It's a nice neighborhood," he comments, looking around at the houses as a car drives by. I just nod my head, the flooding memories almost too much.

   It's all the same. It'll always be the same.

   My parents never change. My past will never change. I can't escape this.

   My childhood home comes up way to fast, the large white two story house with dark green shudders and a fenced in backyard, a sparkling pool now covered with a winter cover. Something about the familiar large wood porch sends my flight instincts going. My whole body tenses and Dawson must notice because I can feel the heat of his gaze on the side of my face. "Baby?" He questions as I point a shaky finger at the house. He nods and grips the steering wheel, turning the fancy Lamborghini into the driveway. Matt's fancy new car is parked next to my mother's Cadillac and my fathers Chevy.

   And my heart starts racing. "Baby?"

   My fingers tighten into my palm, my nails digging into my palm. I can feel my breathing increase as the music starts to dim. The day thunders through my mind. My soaking wet body sliding down the door, banging and crying as I tried to get in.

   The days when my mother would scream at me for breaking a plate or glass come rushing back. The days she would yell at me for going back for more than what she gave me to eat.  It's all there. The days she called me fat. The days she forced me to sleep on the floor instead of the couch because I had looked at my brother like I despised him.

   The car engine shuts off and I blink, the memories fading away from my eyes and I look over at Dawson. He's staring at me with concerned eyes, his hair a little messy still from trying to tame it after waking up in the hotel this morning.

"Before we go in there, listen to me," Dawson squints his eyes at me, already suspicious, but I continue on, "Don't get upset. Okay? Just agree with what they say and don't correct them,"

I can see the confusion growing in his eyes as he slowly nods, "Okay," he draws out before unbuckling his seatbelt. I know I have to be confusing the hell out of him but if I don't he'll go all protective on my parents. I can't have that.

Please let this go well. I need this to go well. If this doesn't go well I could lose Dawson. I just want to get this weekend over with and then hopefully have my parents leave me alone for at least a month. That's all I want. To be left alone. To not have a month of those texts from my mother and father telling me that I'm a disappointment and that I need to earn more money.

I'm so tired.

With a quick sigh, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, my seatbelt clicking with the soft press of my finger. I need to calm down. Maybe it won't be so bad with Dawson here. Maybe they'll go easy on me?

Dawson pops his door open, pulling his keys from the Lamborghini before shoving them in his jeans pockets and walking around the car to open my door. Today is just a casual day. Tomorrow though will do fancier, but for today I just wore some leggings and Dawson's hoodie and t-shirt with some slides with my hair thrown over my shoulder in a messy ponytail. I didn't bother with any makeup, but now I'm starting to overthink on that decision.