Rising from the Ashes (23 page)

The sarcastic sound she made let me know she didn’t believe that for a second.

“Yeah, okay, Savvy. What deep, dark secret do you have that I don’t already know? We’ve been best friends practically our whole lives. We know everything about each other.”

“Emmy,” I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking too badly, “I had an abortion when I was nineteen. It was Jeremy’s, and I didn’t tell him before doing it. I kept it from him this whole time.”

Her eyes grew wide as she absorbed what I’d just said. “You…what? No, you didn’t. You didn’t,” she said, like she thought she could change the outcome if she kept insisting it wasn’t true. “You wouldn’t do something like that,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I did,” I choked out on a sob.

Emmy placed a hand over her mouth as her eyes welled up with tears, confirming my fear that she wouldn’t handle it well. Emmy was the least judgmental person I knew, but she was extremely sensitive to certain things after losing Ella. I couldn’t fault her for that. I’d been there, and I’d seen how it had nearly destroyed her. That was a large part of the reason why I’d convinced myself that I’d done the right thing. I’d been so sure that Emmy wouldn’t have been able to handle seeing me pregnant that I’d given no thought to future consequences.

“Why would you do that, Savannah?” she asked, her voice almost pleading that I take it back.

I dropped my chin to my chest and tried to breathe past the pain that had taken up residence in my chest. “We had no business having a baby! We were only nineteen, for Christ’s sake. And it’s not like I had the best role model growing up,” I replied sarcastically.

“You had just lost Ella,” I explained. “I didn’t want to hurt you. You were having a hard enough time trying to deal with it. I didn’t want to make things worse.”

When I finally found the courage to look up at her, she was shaking her head in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious, Savannah. I’m your best friend,” she said, emphasizing the last two words. “How could you possibly think I would be anything but happy for you? Jesus!” She stood and began pacing the kitchen. “I can’t believe you never told me…after all these years. I can’t believe you did that to Jeremy!”

“I thought I was doing what was right,” I insisted, finally starting to let my anger at her judgment outweigh my guilt.

“How could you think that was right? You saw what that miscarriage did to me. How could you ever think that having an
abortion
would be something I’d be okay with?”

“I was hoping you’d never find out,” I stupidly admitted.

That caused her to let out a cruel, sarcastic laugh. “Oh, wow. Well, that came back to
really
bite you in the ass, didn’t it?”

“Emmy—”

“I can’t approve of what you did, Savannah. I
don’t
approve of it. I’ve always told you
everything
. I was supposed to be your best friend. How could you keep something like this from me? And for seven years. I don’t know what else to say. I thought you trusted me.”

“I do trust you, Emmy!”

“Obviously, you don’t.” With that, she turned and did something she’d never done before. She walked away from me.

The harshness in her words was completely foreign to me and cut down to the bone. She was the one person in my life who I always thought would stand beside me no matter what, whether the decisions I made were wrong or not. I never expected to see disapproval or disappointment on her face when she looked at me, but that was exactly what had been in her eyes as she stared me down.

Something in me shut down at that look. The smallest piece of happiness that I’d managed to hold on to when Jeremy walked away had shattered with that look. I hadn’t grown up with a loving family. Truthfully, they had barely tolerated me.

My friends were the closest I had to any type of real family, and Jeremy and Emmy were the two most important people in all of that. With both of them turning their backs on me, I had nothing left.

The phrase
beating a dead horse
was the perfect description for how my life had become. Only, it felt like someone had beaten the horse to death and then ran over it with a Mack truck for good measure.

Apparently, losing Jeremy and Emmy avoiding me like the plague wasn’t enough. I’d just finished boxing up the last of Jeremy’s things when my cell phone started ringing. I was so consumed by what I was doing that I didn’t even bother looking at the caller ID. That was my first mistake.

“Hello?”

“Savannah, darling, how have you been?”

Talking to mommy dearest was the last thing I wanted to do. I wasn’t fooled by the polite greeting. I knew she wasn’t calling to check up on me. She never did. She was calling because she needed something.

“Mother,” I replied dryly. “I’ve been fine. How are you?”

With that question, I knew the small talk would come to an end and she’d get to her point.

“Fine, fine,” she rushed out. “Listen, darling, I need a favor.”

Here we go.

“As you know, your father is running for senator.”

This was news to me. I had no idea my father had political aspirations. I guess I shouldn’t have been really surprised. I couldn’t help but think that I would definitely have to move if the people in our district were stupid enough to actually vote for him.

“Your father and I are hosting a dinner at the country club tonight for some potential contributors. We need you to join us.”

In other words, they needed me to come to the dinner to put on a show that we were some loving, happy family unit. My father needed me there so he could snow those people into thinking he was a decent family man and father. That way, they’d feel comfortable shelling out their money. I would rather give myself an at-home Brazilian wax than be caught dead at that country club with my sorry excuses for parents.

“Sorry, Mother. I’ve just got a lot going on right now. I’m not going to be able to make it.”

“Savannah Morgan! Your father and I ask so little of you, and you can’t even be bothered to attend one little dinner to help him. When did you turn into such a self-centered brat? I know I raised you better than to be so selfish.”

If I had it in me, I would have laughed. She hadn’t raised me to be anything. She’d left that job to nannies and maids. Robert and Victoria Morgan hadn’t lifted a hand in raising me. The only thing either of them had ever done was knock me down every chance they’d gotten.

There were many instances to recall, but at that moment, my mind flashed back to one time in particular.

I was sixteen years old, and my parents were hosting their annual Christmas party. My mother had purchased a little black cocktail dress for me to wear that was completely inappropriate for a teenager.

I was standing alone in the kitchen, trying my best to stay out of the way, when one of the partners at my father’s firm, Douglas Harrison, walked in. I’d seen him knocking back scotches all night long, and if his ruddy cheeks were any indication, he was already three sheets to the wind.

He saw me sitting on the bar stool, and the creepy grin that spread across his face sent a chill up my spine.

“Well, don’t you look all grown up, Savannah?” he said as he made his way over to me.

I glanced around, hoping that someone else would wander into the kitchen, but no one did. It was just me and Mr. Harrison, who was wearing a too tight suit that showed off his potbelly.

“Good evening, Mr. Harrison. I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

He was standing way too close for comfort and I could smell alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. It was enough to make me want to puke.

“I am, dear, and the evening just got even better,” he replied as his gaze wandered up my legs and stopped at the low neckline of my dress.

I could have killed my mother right then and there for picking it out.

I tried to get his perverted attention off of me. “Is Mrs. Harrison with you?”

But he didn’t take the bait. He didn’t even acknowledge the mention of his wife. He just licked his lips, like he was eyeing a steak. The man was at least forty years my senior and looked even older, which just made his attention all the more disgusting. There was nothing even slightly attractive about him. He was fat, bald, and he seemed to always have a sheen of sweat on his pockmarked forehead.

“What are you doing in here all by yourself?” he asked, stepping even closer and officially invading my personal space.

I tried to scoot to the very edge of the bar stool to put some much needed distance between us, but it was pointless. “I’m not really much for parties,” I replied, trying to remain polite even though the man was seriously freaking me out.

He caged me in against the island, making me feel trapped. It was a feeling I didn’t deal well with.

“I’m not really much for parties either. Why don’t we go out back so we can have a little privacy?” At that moment, he ran his sausage fingers along my collarbone and across the edge of my dress.

I shivered and tried in vain to move away from his touch. “I’m sure my father is looking for you.”

He placed his hand on my bare knee and gave it a squeeze. “Robert can wait. What do you say we get out of here for a bit?”

That was it. I’d officially had enough. “I suggest you get your pudgy little hand off my leg before you lose it,” I said between clenched teeth.

“Oh, come on, honey,” he replied as he slipped his hand higher up my thigh beneath my skirt. “You know you—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before I grabbed a fork off the countertop and stabbed the back of his hand—hard.

He let out a bellow and a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush, drawing the attention of several party guests, including both of my parents. Mr. Harrison tried to play it off as an accident, but I could tell by the look on his wife’s face that she knew exactly what had happened. My parents banished me to my bedroom for the remainder of the party with whispered promises to deal with me after the last of the guests left.

After changing out of that god-awful dress, I sat in my room, waiting for my punishment to come. Goose bumps broke out on my arms as I listened to the sound of my father’s shoes pounding up the stairs right before he burst through the door, followed by my mother.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he started, completely red-faced and fuming. “Doug had to have thirteen stitches because of that little stunt you pulled. Have you lost your goddamn mind, Savannah? He’s a partner, for Christ’s sake!”

My spine stiffened as he spoke. I didn’t know why I was surprised. I should have known better than to think either of my parents would take my side in anything. “Well, that partner was practically trying to molest me while his wife was in the other room!” I shouted. “He had his hand up my skirt, and—”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t dressed like a two-dollar hooker, he wouldn’t have been tempted,” my father said. “You were basically asking for it.”

I reared back like he’d just slapped me. I felt the tears starting to sting my eyes, but I’d be damned if I let them fall. I wouldn’t give my parents the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

“I wasn’t asking for anything,” I whispered. “And Mother bought that dress for me to wear tonight. If you have a problem with it, take it up with her.”

“Don’t you dare put this on me, Savannah Morgan. When I bought you that dress, it fit perfectly. How was I to know that you were going to gain too much weight to fit into it?”

That was complete and utter bullshit. I hadn’t gained a single pound since she purchased that dress, and she knew it. I didn’t have a chance to defend myself before my father spoke again.

“Do you live to humiliate your mother and me, Savannah? Is it your goal in life to embarrass us at every turn?”

At that, my traitorous tears finally escaped, leaking down my cheeks. I was strong, but being called a whore, fat, and an embarrassment in one sitting was too much for even me to handle. They hadn’t stuck around long enough to see them fall though. They’d plunged the knife in deep enough to garner a reaction, and then they’d turned and walked away, leaving me lying on my bed, broken once again.

I shook myself from the awful memory of my childhood as my mother started to speak once again.

“Is it too much to ask that you show your father some support for just a few short hours?” she asked, laying the guilt trip on heavily. “It’s the least you could do after everything you pulled as a child.”

I prided myself on being tough enough to withstand my parents’ bullshit, but I was already on guilt overload, and I just couldn’t handle any more. That was why I caved to my mother’s request. It was yet another mistake to add to all the others I’d been racking up.

“Fine, Mom. I’ll be there.”