Finding Purgatory (22 page)

The reality was the opposite. As of the last time she’d checked, Ian still e-mailed every few weeks. She couldn’t bring herself to look at those messages, but she knew they were there.

“You think it’s supposed to make me feel better you couldn’t handle seeing them?” Tori’s voice rose as she continued. “You know what? You’re beyond fucked-up. You ditched me? Fine. Okay. You were nineteen. Maybe I can understand that. But then you go and do it again? What’s your fucking excuse, huh? Didn’t you learn anything the first time around? You want to sit here and tell me you’re helping me because that’s what family does. Was Emily, Indigo, whatever, not your family? She said that in group. She said she wished she had a big sister. She said her family had lost a lot and maybe she thought having a baby would make them happy again.”

She stood, moving to the corner of the room as if she couldn’t stand to be near Ani. “You ditched me. You ditched them. You think you’re not going to ditch her—” she pressed her hand to her bump “—the next time life gets shitty? Well that’s fucking great. I feel so much better.”

Ani blinked, unable to see past the tears in her eyes. “Tori . . .” she tried, but she didn’t know what to say.

“Just save it. I don’t believe you.” Her shoulders hunched, and she slumped against the wall. “Can you go away? Please? I really have nothing to say to you right now.”

Chapter 21: Heaven

T
he day she came home after spending a night by herself, she’d sent Emily a text.

Are you okay?

She received back a picture—a tired, flushed-looking Emily with a tiny baby in a green knit cap in her arms.

We’re fine
.

And a few seconds later.

I’m sorry
.

Tori didn’t respond. She considered deleting the picture.

She hardly left her room for a week.

Every evening when she came home from work, Ani knocked on her door. She left dinner in the hallway. “I’m here when you’re ready to talk.”

Tori would be ready when it hailed in hell. In the hierarchy of people she was pissed at, Ani reigned supreme.

After a week of ignoring everyone except Brook, Tori decided she wasn’t angry at Raphe. He hadn’t had anything to do with what had happened in the hospital. Sure, it was his fault so much of her life was run by the parasite, but he didn’t know that. He’d been nice to her.

He was always nice to her.

Besides, he was also useful. He was a supervisor. Maybe he could help her find a job. Then by the time the baby was born, she might at least have a plan.

She dropped by Raphe’s house on a night when she knew his mother was out. He needled her only a little for her silence, then informed her the next time she threw a world-class hissy fit and didn’t tell anyone she was safe, they were going to have words.

“I’m being reasonable here. I’m not saying you can’t have hissy fits. I’m just saying give me a call, a text. Let me know you’re in one piece and not being eaten by rabid dogs.”

“Or else what?”

He tilted his head so his face was only a few inches from hers. When had he gotten so close? “Or else someone’s getting a spanking,” he said.

It was his straight expression that killed her. She tried not to laugh and failed. “You can’t hit a pregnant woman.”

“Don’t exaggerate.” He pulled her into a hug. “You did scare me.”

She rested her head on his chest. “I didn’t know you’d be so worried.”

He pulled back, catching her face between his hands. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

His face was close again, and she wanted to kiss him. It was impossible not to want to kiss him when his lips looked so soft and his eyes sparked with something that sent a shiver down her spine. He was a good kisser. At least, that’s what Tori thought it meant when the press of his lips to hers made her dizzy and the way he urged her mouth open, teasing her with his tongue, made her knees weak.

Tori shook her head, pushing away the visceral memory. She stumbled back a step and tried to remember what the heck she was about to say.

They ended up in his room, Tori lying on her side at the bottom of the bed, Raphe with his back against the wall on the other end. She babbled about possible jobs, hinting she would even take a job from him if he could swing it. She assured him she was joking. Mostly.

“Tor, are you out of your mind?”

“What do you mean? You think it’s crazy for me to work?”

“Is that really all you want for yourself?”

“You mean a job?” The look of disappointment on his face as he continued to stare unnerved her. “
What
?”

“Are you oblivious to the fact you have everything and you can’t wait to throw it all away?”

“Have everything?”

“Your sister is serious, you know. She’ll send you anywhere you want to go. She has the means.”

She sat up on the bed, turning her back on him. “Great. You’re on her side now.”

He walked around her so they were face-to-face again. “This isn’t a game. This isn’t about you versus her. She wants what I want—for you to have any future you choose.”

“I can’t take that Mary Sunshine crap, Raphe. Not from you. There’s nothing wrong with doing things the way you did.”

“No, there’s not. And if this were a year ago, I would be all for your plan in a heartbeat. A year ago, you were just another poor kid. A year ago, you didn’t have what you have now—a family with the ability to help you get where you want to go. Do you realize how rare it is to have these kinds of doors open for you?”

“I don’t want her money. I don’t care what doors it opens. I don’t want it. You’re doing well without handouts. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I’m doing well, but I didn’t get here on my own. You think I could afford this house?” He gestured around them. “This is my mother’s house. I have support, but you have a golden ticket. You’re throwing it away like garbage, and for what?”

“Because I don’t want to owe her anything.”

“Because you’re afraid of what it will mean if you forgive her. Well, that’s bullshit, Tor. Yeah, she hurt you. There’s no one who would agree she was right to do what she did to you, herself included. But I don’t get the point of holding on to your anger either. You’re only hurting yourself, denying yourself peace, among other things, but also the chance to do what you want with your life.”

“Fuck her.”

“Come on. This isn’t rocket science. I know you’re capable of empathy. I’ve seen you with Brooklyn.
”

“What is it you want me to empathize with? Why she lied to me?”

“Your sister has lost every single person she’s ever loved, do you realize that? I don’t understand how she holds herself up straight. So yeah, maybe what she’s doing for you is partially to make herself feel better, but so what? She’s still bending over backward trying to right a wrong, make amends. She’s still offering you the world.”

“You don’t understand.”

“You think so?” He pulled back his sleeves, exposing his wrists. “You think you have to tell me how hard it is to forgive?”

Tori stared at him.

Raphe always wore long sleeves, even in the deepest part of summer, and with good reason. Tori knew how difficult it was for him to show his scars. Anyone who saw them could guess what they were—the result of a suicide attempt that had come close to being successful. She would never forget the first time he’d shown her that piece of himself and shared his story.

She was about to run, and he must have sensed that. He’d been pushing—gently at first, like a doctor trying to find the hurt hidden beneath unblemished skin. He knew she was damaged, and she wouldn’t tell him how. But the more he prodded, the more panicked she got.

Tori had always been different. It was a curse of being a foster child. The other kids, the normal kids, made assumptions. Some of them didn’t understand. A kid had to be pretty bad to get their parents not to love them.

It wasn’t like that with Raphe, and as much as she tried to tell herself she didn’t care, she did. He treated her like she was normal. When he realized she wasn’t . . .

Well, she didn’t know what, but she was sure she didn’t want it to happen.

When he cupped her face in his hands, she tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. She refused to look up, and she could feel the heat of his breath at her crown as he sighed.

“Something happened. You can tell me what it is. I promise it’ll be all right.”

She shook her head. She was trembling, and she wanted to be anywhere but there. She wanted to be far away from him because he could see. She didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Why did he know what existed inside her, the ugliness she felt in her blood? Let the other kids guess at why she was in the foster system. They were all wrong anyway. The only thing her parents had done was die. It was everything that happened afterward that had fucked her up, and she didn’t want Raphe to know.

He brought up his arms, and his fingers trembled as he pulled back his sleeves. Time seemed to stop when she saw the marks.

They brought to mind a world where Raphe didn’t exist. Her lips twisted in fury. How could he be so stupid, so selfish? But when she raised her head to look at him, the expression on his face was so foreign to her, it killed the angry words on her tongue.

He was ashamed. He looked the way she felt inside, like he knew he was repulsive and now she could see it.

The desire to ease his pain, to take that look from his face overcame her anger, and rather than lash out, she ran her fingers along the thick, raised scars. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she held him close, trying to tell him wordlessly that this didn’t change anything.

Without untangling themselves, they managed to sit on the couch. He tucked her close to him and started to tell his story without her having to ask.

“When . . .” He swallowed and tried again. “When I was twelve, my mother remarried.”

The rest of his story was drawn out in halting, jerking sentences. He didn’t look at her. His eyes were dead. Blank. His voice was flat.

“Before they were married, he was really cool. I thought it was nice to have a father. I thought about calling him Dad.”

“After the wedding, though, he changed. He lost his temper more often.

“And then he started hitting me.

“At first it only happened once in a while, when I was bad, but then it started happening all the time. Never when she was home, and he always hit me in places my clothes would cover.

“He told me if I told anyone, especially my mother, he would beat me bloody.”

By then, his voice had faded to a pained sound. He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. Tori tightened her hold on him.

“I got in a lot of fights at school. Mom didn’t understand why I was acting the way I was.

“Then, when a teacher pulled me off this other boy, he saw the bruises on my back.

“He took me to the school counselor. They asked me questions. I freaked out.

“But I told.

“And they took me away from my mother.

“I was angry and scared, but I thought maybe it would get better. Maybe my stepfather would be nice again. Or at least now that she knew, maybe my mother would do something.

“Except she didn’t believe me. She didn’t believe it was my stepfather who had hurt me. She told the social service people I was rambunctious. I wrestled with the other boys all the time. She told them about all the fights. And it didn’t matter how many times they tried to explain. It didn’t matter when I told her myself.

“I kept thinking any minute she’ll believe me. She loves me. She has to love me more than him.

“She refused to do the classes they wanted her to do because she didn’t think she’d done anything wrong.

“She kept saying, ‘
No one is angry at you,
mijo
. Just tell them. Tell them the truth, and you can come home. Don’t you want to come home?
’

“It drove me crazy. I couldn’t deal with it at all. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t love me. Mothers are supposed to love their children more than anyone. I was supposed to be her most important thing, the most important person in her life. I couldn’t understand what was wrong with me.

“One day, during a visit, she yelled at me. She said she didn’t know why I was doing this to her, to our family.

“I felt wrong. Awful. I just wanted it to end.”

Tori turned in his arms then, squeezing him, and kissed the underside of his chin, his cheeks, until he stopped trembling and his breaths evened out again.

Coming back to the present again, she closed her hands over his wrists. “How?” she whispered.

How had he ever forgiven his mother, trusted her again after that?

Raphe didn’t answer right away. Instead he sat back on the bed with his arms tight around her. He tilted his head, resting it against hers. “A lot of people think forgiveness is weak, and I understand why they say that. Some people aren’t worth forgiving because they aren’t sorry enough or strong enough to overcome their mistakes.

“Any way you look at it, though, forgiving someone for hurting you is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do in your life. It’s not easy, and it’s not for the weak.”

Cupping her chin, he tilted her head up. “It really sucks that you’ve had to be as strong as you are, Tor. No one should have to be, but I think that means you’re strong enough to forgive your sister for what she did.”

“Why should I?”

“Because at some point, holding a grudge is only hurting yourself.”

He ran his fingers through her hair. “I think you’ve been stuck in hell so long, you don’t know what heaven looks like even when you’re staring right at it.”

Tori had to laugh. “Heaven.”

“Think about it,
chiquita
. You’ve lived most of your life without a family, but now you have one. Your sister is offering you love and support—someone to lean on. What she’s offering you is unconditional. You know it is, because there’s no reason she has to do what she’s done for you. She’s under no obligation. She can walk away anytime, but she won’t.”

“Ha. She’s done it before.”

“But she wants to learn from her mistakes.” He brushed the back of his knuckles down her cheek. “The thing about letting people in your life is you give them the power to hurt you, and that’s scary. It’s hard work loving people, letting them love you, but you have so much to gain. You wouldn’t be alone anymore. You would have the ability to not settle for mediocre or whatever you can get.”