Lucy Lahey trusted the man she was dating, and it turned out to be her biggest mistake. Reeling in the aftermath of a rape that stole not only her virginity, but her confidence, her love for MMA, her clarity and more, Lucy now finds herself in Jerse...
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The last two days have been weird. I'm suspended, so I haven't been at school, dad hasn't been at work. All we've done is hung around the house, watch Suits, eaten food and skirted around certain topics.
He clearly doesn't want to leave me alone, which is why he's been working from the couch and listening to podcasts. Occasionally he'll look up at me, stare for thirty seconds while he listens to something and then he'll nod and continue his work. Sometimes I want to ask what he's heard, other times, I think it's best I don't know.
On Wednesday morning, I find dad in the kitchen, as usual, with his coffee and cell phone. He doesn't have to ask; I lift my cotton pyjama pants up until they're at the top of my thighs and he nods when he sees there's no new cuts.
"Dad," I sit down on the stool. "Please let me shave my legs."
"I never said you couldn't."
"You told me I'm not allowed a razor!"
"You're not."
With a groan, I drop my head on the breakfast bar. I'm not Chewbacca but my hair is growing back and it's short, sharp and irritating.
"Use that hair removal cream?"
"I can't," I mumble, face down on the countertop. "I react to it. Mom bought it for me when I first started shaving and it gave me a rash."
"Oh. Go and get them waxed," he says. "Isn't that better for them? The hair doesn't grow back as fast?"
I lift my head and stare at him.
"What?"
"How are you so informed?"
He laughs and tips the last drizzle of his coffee down the sink before rinsing the cup out. "I was married to a woman who talks, a lot. Your mom used to fill me in on everything she was up to."
"And you didn't fill her in on anything you were up to."
He blows out a long breath. "Damn, don't hold back."
"I won't."
He puts his cup in the dishwasher and I feel bad for a moment. We had this conversation, about his infidelity and he explained that it's one of his biggest regrets. It's probably unfair to throw it in his face but at the same time, if he hadn't done that, we'd still be a family and maybe I wouldn't know what it's like to miss my father.
Or perhaps I readily take the chance to hurt people because I don't want to feel like the only screw up.
"Anyway," he says. "Why don't you do that? Go and get a leg wax?"
"Because," I say. "I don't want someone seeing all the cuts on my legs. Just let me get a razor so I can shave and then I'll throw it out again."
He drums his fingers on the bench top while he stares out the window. It's windier than usual this morning, the trees are being blown around, but it must be warm because a couple walk past in t-shirts, their hair whipping around them.
