Deeper Healing

12| Trauma

Leilani Edwards

"Your mom had sex with my father like she was born for it."

I didn't know how to take that statement or any of the facts I had been given in the past few minutes. I didn't know what other feelings to feel that I hadn't felt all these past years already and how to express them because honestly, even I couldn't understand them.

In my books, I was a part of the mistake, an innocent victim of the circumstances, but in someone else's perspective, I was the villain. The abominable illegitimate child of an adulterous man and a seductress lacking basic self-control and an understanding of societal norms.

I took a deep sigh, my gaze fixated on a very emotional Isla, holding her hands together as if it were the only thing keeping her from shedding the tears clouding her eyes.

This was neither the place nor the time to be having such a conversation, but some situations couldn't be helped when triggered, especially when they involved trauma and unspoken struggles.

There was a certain level of comfort that speaking to someone who found your situation relatable gave, and at this moment, I felt like that was what gave Isla the courage to open up that page from her past so vividly.

Our booth was far in the corner, private to some extent and quiet with the piano playing softly in the background. The setup was convenient enough to make it appear to anyone as though we were just two young women having a normal conversation, not one involving our traumatic pasts aided by the sins of our parents.

"They fucked everywhere, stupidly thinking they were secretive enough and we wouldn't notice. They were so shitty at hiding their need for each other that even Antonio began to notice, asking me what was going on as if I were in the position to explain the situation."

Isla paused, taking a breather and steadying her breath.

Her lips quivered, a tear rolling down her right cheek. "What hurt the most was how she'd come to us smiling afterwards like nothing ever happened and put up an innocent act like the best nanny in the whole fucking world," she confided, swiping at her eyes with her hands. "That was some really fucked up shit, you know."

I reached out to her, holding her hands by her wrists. "Isla, I'm sorry."

She shook her head vigorously. "No, it's not your fault," she breathed, slipping my hands off her wrists. "Please, forgive my stupid emotions."

I sat back in the chair, guilt gnawing me. She always seemed okay, like she had everything under control, but this breakdown told a different story.

Isla seemed to be mad at herself for allowing her emotions to show in this manner as she struggled to regain composure of herself and replace the distress on her quivering lips with a neutral smile.

She reached out for my hands, holding them softly as she searched for my glistening eyes. "Lani, I've dealt with my trauma and my past doesn't affect me anymore. It made me stronger."

Her tone sounded convincing, eliminating any room for doubt. I didn't want to dive deeper than I already had to respect her privacy and feelings.

I maintained eye contact with her, my lips stretching into a genuine smile. "You're a strong woman, Isla and I admire you for that."

"You're stronger, Leilani. You dealt with twice the pain all by yourself. It mustn't have been easy for you when your mother abandoned you at such a young age all by yourself at a boarding school to pursue her love interest."

My heart skipped a beat, and my smile vanished from my face. "She never abandoned me," I objected fiercely. "Going to a boarding school was entirely my decision."