Charlie's Angel

8

Charlie 

Paris was able to go home the next day. They made sure her vitals were in tip-top shape before releasing her. She was still complaining of stomach pains and a scratchy throat so they prescribed some pain meds that would make her sleepy. And since it was Thursday, they advised her to stay home and rest until Monday. Lots of cuddles and bedrest would be in our near future. She didn't seem to mind much, and she loved the cherry-flavored lollipop they gave her.

They also asked if I wanted to press charges against Aaron. It was technically considered kidnapping her since I didn't know he had picked her up. They ensured our safety and everything if anything went wrong, but I just couldn't do it. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make myself do it. He was no good for me, sure, but I loved him. He was my husband and I needed him, despite everything. His beatings had become routine; they had become my life. Part of me was afraid of what I'd do if I woke up one day and he was gone. For good. That freedom was something foreign to me. Just a faraway dream that I only saw in my sleep.

"You think you can eat some pizza, sweetie?" I asked her softly when I carried her upstairs to her bed. I tucked her in, let her cuddle with her Blue's Clues puppy. She looked up at me with those big brown eyes that made my heart melt. "Or do you want something softer like jello?"

"Pizza Hut?"

"Or do you want Domino's?" I laughed at her. Her eyes lit up at the mention of pizza. She no longer looked like a sad puppy. Her pink comforter fell off her shoulders when she sat up to look at me.

"We have both?" Guilt stung my heart. Her voice was so raspy and rough, it kinda sounded like it was painful to talk. And she did this thing where she batted her eyelashes without her knowing she was doing it. She probably got that from me. Cutest thing in the world.

How could I say no to those eyes and with the guilt eating me alive?

"Why don't you just choose one? You can't even eat that much," I smiled. "I'll get Domino's and make you some jello, cool?"

I started heading out of her room and she and running after me. "Mommy! Don't leave me!" She latched herself onto my leg. Yet again.

"Baby," I murmured, kneeling down to her level. She hugged my neck and my skin became moist with her tears. "Baby, I'll be right downstairs. What's wrong?"

"Is Daddy coming back?"

"No, baby, Daddy's not coming home." I stroked her back in small circles and pried her away. "Here, take my phone. You can do whatever you want, okay? I'll be back in two seconds, I promise." I nudged her along back to her room and let myself cry as I got the coupons from downstairs. My daughter—our daughter—was afraid of her father. She had never been actually afraid of him. She just learned to not like him. But now she was afraid of him; that was new.

And something had to change.

I scurried back up the stairs and heard Paris talking. At first I thought she was just playing around with my phone, but then I realized that she was having a real conversation. "Paris, who are you talking to?"

She held it out to me. "It says Chris."

Shit.

"Hello?" Why did my voice decide to shake and tremble?

"Um, hi," he muttered. "Is this a bad time?"

"Uh, no. Not at all. What's up?"

"Is she okay? She's almost afraid to talk to me."

"She'll be fine. Just a little shaken up, you know? Can't go back to school until Monday, so I'll miss a few more days of work. Don't know how I'll pay bills this month," I rushed out. I needed to stop blabbing away to Chris. I barely knew this guy and I was telling him my secrets and crying in front of him.