Gabi glanced at her doctor, and after receiving a nod from him, she faced me again. "You deserve the truth. All of it. I've learned I can't hide behind the lies I created and expect to move forward. No matter how we move on from here-be it together or apart-you deserve to know the truth."
"I already know, Gabi."
"You don't know everything, and you've never heard it directly from me."
She had a point, so I conceded and nodded to urge her to tell me her truth.
With a deep breath, she began to expel the demons she'd carried around for the last eleven years. "I told you my dad died when I was young." As she spoke, her eyes turned to her twisted hands in her lap. "That wasn't true. I have three memories of him. The first one is of him holding my mom against the wall in our living room … her feet couldn't touch the ground. He yelled while my mom cried, but other than that, all I recall is hiding behind the couch and wishing he would stop. The next memory is of him backhanding me until I fell into the kitchen table. My mom was there too, but other than screaming, to my recollection, she did nothing. If I close my eyes and think about that time, I see blood. I know it wasn't my own, but other than that, I don't know whose it was. I can only assume it was my mother's."
Just hearing her retell these stories I was sure she'd never uttered to another soul broke my heart. I wasn't sure I could continue listening to them, but I knew I had to. This was part of Gabi's past, part of how she'd ended up here in the first place, and it was what she needed to face if she ever wanted to move past it. But it didn't make it any easier to hear.
"The last memory I have of him was when my mom packed up our things and we left. He was supposed to be at work and we had borrowed the neighbor's car. I'm sure we didn't just borrow it because we never returned it. But I will never forget us backing out of the driveway and my dad driving really fast down the street. Then the neighbor-the one who gave us her car-stood in the middle of the road. Her hands were held out in front of her and she was pointing something at him. Looking back now, it was probably a gun, but I'll never know for sure. It was the only thing that kept him from chasing after us."
She shifted in her seat, but avoided my gaze. The pain was etched across her brow and she kept her mouth in a straight line, even though her lips periodically trembled.
"After that, we spent a few nights in a hotel room. It was nice because my mom let me watch whatever I wanted on the small TV. I watched I Love Lucy with Mom curled up at my side. We only stayed there for a few nights before we moved on to somewhere else. And then somewhere else. I can't even count all the places we stopped, but we jumped from town to town. Staying at motels until the money ran out. I didn't know what was going on, but I remember going from having food to not having any. My mom went from being happy and loving, to crying all the time and pushing me away." She paused and wiped a tear from her face.
I reached out and held her hand, encouraging her to continue. I was surprised that it had taken her all these years to tell me these memories. These things from her past that had haunted her and forbidden her to move on. I wanted to ask her why she never mentioned it before, but I didn't want to chance that she'd revert back into her shell. It had happened so many times over the years that it was hard to imagine our conversations ending differently.
"Then there came a time when we started staying in shelters, and we no longer had the car. Mom said the gas was too expensive. We were lucky enough to find nice places to stay-some had clothes for me to wear and keep. A few of them even had boxes along a wall inside that had personal hygiene items, and some even had toys. I didn't pick a toy. But that year for my birthday, my mom gave me a baby doll. She was so excited because she hadn't been able to get me anything for Christmas a couple months before. I looked at the doll and knew it was from the box in one of the shelters. But it didn't matter where it had come from, because the look on my mom's face when she gave it to me meant everything."
For as long as I'd known Gabi, she'd portrayed her mother as a monster-a title I'd recently seen the validity in-so hearing her speak of the loving, nurturing side to her mom made me feel as though I was listening to stories about a stranger. I had a hard time wrapping my mind around the Marie from Gabi's childhood and the woman who ignored Gabi's cries for help as being one and the same.
"It was always just her and me," she continued, "until she met Peter when I was fifteen. She had gotten a job working the same hours I attended school, and I guess she met him then. He lived a town over from us and asked my mom to marry him pretty quickly. My mom was so excited. I hadn't seen her that happy since she gave me that doll. I was happy, too, because more than anything, I wanted a family. I'd dreamt of one for so long that I thought God was finally answering my prayers."
The smile immediately fell from her lips and the light in her eyes dimmed. I knew what came next in this story, and I didn't want to hear the details. What I already knew would haunt me forever, and I almost stopped her from continuing. I didn't think I could hear it. I couldn't handle listening to her relive what came next, but I knew it had to be said.
"It took one week for Todd to start saying inappropriate things to me. It started off with weird stares and accidental brushes against me. Then one night he was out at a party and came home late. He came into my room and woke me up." She shook her head vigorously, as though she could shake the memory from her mind. "I had never even been kissed before, but that didn't stop him. I cried and cried, begging him to stop, but he ignored me. Once it was over, I went to the bathroom and threw up."
Tears burned the backs of my eyes, her pain embedding itself into my chest.
"I told my mom about it, and it was the first time in my life I felt betrayed by her. The first time I looked at her and didn't recognize the person in front of me. I kept those instances to myself after that, and Todd kept doing it. It didn't happen all the time, but enough that it made me wish for death. Then I met you, and I thought you could save me. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I always chickened out."
"Your mom said you got pregnant?" I don't know why that was the question that popped into my head, but I suddenly needed to know. It was something I hadn't been able to let go of since Marie had told me.
She nodded and looked right at me. "He never wore condoms, but he always pulled out. One night, he was really wasted-probably high on something after one of his parties-and after he finished, he got up and left like he always did. But I realized he never made me open my mouth to finish him off. I prayed that just meant he hadn't gotten off. But then semen came out of me, and I began to worry. It was only a few weeks after that when I knew. I always paid attention to my periods because I knew he wasn't using protection. I watched the calendar like a hawk. I waited until a few more days after that before I went to a drug store and bought a test. I knew I had to tell my mom. Except, I wasn't expecting it to go the way it did."
I didn't need to ask how it went, because I already knew, but I didn't want to interrupt and tell her that. I knew it was important for her to get this off her chest, and if having me listen to it all helped her heal, then I'd have to suck it up until she got every word out.
"She told Peter and he made her take me to get an abortion. I wasn't upset about that part. I couldn't stand the thought of having his child in me. What hurt me more than anything was that we returned to Peter's house. I begged her to take me and leave him. I begged her to not make me stay there, but she said Peter had handled it. Whatever that meant. Two weeks later, Todd walked in on me in the bathroom. His pupils were so large I couldn't even see the color of his eyes. He was mad and strung out. He locked the door behind him and came after me. It was the first time he put on a condom." She no longer hid her pain as it flowed in rivers down her cheeks, filling every word she uttered. I didn't want her to continue. I didn't want her to keep living it. But she withdrew from my arms and continued.
"I don't remember a lot about that night. I can't recall the ride to the hospital at all. But the cops coming in and asking me about Sean, my neighbor, that part is clear as day. I didn't understand at all why they were asking about him, so I barely answered. They left, telling me to get some rest and I'd see them again in the morning. They walked out and Peter and my mom walked in. That's when Peter tried to convince me it was Sean that had come into the bathroom. I didn't want to go along with it, but he and my mother both told me I had to. He said it with words, and my mom said it with her pleading eyes. So I did. I figured he wouldn't get in trouble. There was no evidence of him being there. He had to have had an alibi. But as the trial started, I learned his alibi was sleeping. And the evidence didn't matter because they had statements by me, my mom, and Peter. That's when I took those pills. I hated myself for what I had done to him. I had kept tabs on him ever since. I knew when he got out. I knew about him moving back in with his mom, next door to Peter's house. I knew when he couldn't get jobs or got fired from the ones he managed to get. I knew it all. I've hated myself from the moment it happened."