Chapter 22 Cycle of Trauma

Chapter 22 Cycle of Trauma
The backyard had always been my escape as a kid,a patch of grass where I'd kick a ball against the fence for hours, pretending I was some pro player scoring the winning goal.

Now, sitting on the rotting wooden bench Humphrey had built years ago, it felt like a graveyard for memories. The fence sagged in places, peeling paint like old skin.

I lit a cigarette,this was the third one that afternoon,and inhaled deep, the smoke curling into the crisp air.

The family's dysfunction wasn't new; it'd been there all along, lurking like mold in the walls. But now, with Humphrey's ashes on the mantel and the DNA report burning a hole in my mind, it was clear: it was trauma, multi-generational, passed down like a bad heirloom, masquerading as love to make it bearable.

I reflected on it, the cigarette burning down to the filter. Start with Mom. Annie. late 40s, warm on the surface, but secretive as hell,her affair with Robbinson,my biological father, the charming sleaze,born from what? Loneliness? A need for something real in a marriage that was all gruff commands and cold shoulders from Humphrey?

She'd confessed it to me like unburdening a sin, but the trauma went deeper. Her own upbringing, from what little she'd shared,strict parents, emotional neglect,pushed her to seek "love" in hidden places.

Then Susan,the child from that affair,The lie starting the cycle. Mom's shame led to her enabling the family's dysfunction,turning a blind eye to Humphrey's temper, his distance, because admitting the truth would unravel everything.

Humphrey. Mid-50s when he died, gruff hypocrite to the end,raised me as his own, knowing I wasn't. or suspecting. His own trauma,abusive father, from the hints in his journals Mom found,turned him inward. Resentment festering,taking it out on the girls. Susan and Lilly. Emotional first: "You're worthless."

"No one loves you but me." Words carving scars into their psyches,twisting their natural rebellion into something darker,victimhood morph into vengeance.

Then physical: grabs leaving bruises, slaps for "discipline." All masquerading as tough love,protection. But it was control,power. The cycle repeating,his father's abuse becoming his.

And the girls. Early 20s now, rebellious on the surface, damaged deep. Daddy issues? Understatement. Humphrey's trauma twisted them,pushing them to act out, seek validation in wrong places, their vengeance a quiet fire. Pregnancies by him?

The ultimate horror. Victims carrying the abuser's legacy. Multi-generational trauma unpacked, layer by layer. Their babies,innocent,and doomed to inherit the poison unless the cycle broke.

Me. Richy. Mid-20s. Cocky,and Reckless. Emotionally stunted,raised in that soup of lies and distance, I chased thrills to feel alive,cheating on girlfriends, blocking them cold, no remorse. Then Ruby. The forbidden pull. Her curves, her confidence, her moans in the dark,our affair born from her trauma,Robbinson's neglect, his sleazy flings,masquerading as passion.

The baby now, kicking in her belly, a new link in the chain. My obsession with her versus self-loathing. Lust as escape from the cycle, but really just repeating it. Trauma as love,and the family curse in my veins.

I flicked the butt away,and watched it smolder in the grass. How do you break something like that? Exposure? burning it all down? or does it just keep spinning, generation after?

Mom called from the kitchen. "Dinner soon."

I went in,and helped set the table. Routine. But nothing felt routine anymore.

That night, I couldn't stay away from Ruby.I texted her: Park. Midnight.

Her: Yes.

The park was empty, the moon hidden behind clouds. I waited on the bench, collar up against the chill. She came from the shadows, coat wrapped tight, belly leading the way.

We didn't speak,just kissed,hungry, with her hands cold on my neck.

"Car," she whispered.

We went to the back seat,coats off,her shirt up, belly round. I kissed it,felt the kicks,and strong thumps.

"Active tonight," she said.

I undressed her slowly,kissed every inch,neck, breasts,belly,and I went between her legs,licking and sucking her punany with my tongue slowly.

She moaned,hands in hair,and came shaking.
Then I went inside, with slow thrusts.and her legs curled around me.

I was trying to cum all my pain in her,we rocked,passionate,amid the grief.

Afterwards, I held her. "The cycle... It's a trauma. All of it." She nodded. "I know." "We have to stop."
"But we won't."

Plans for confrontation brewed. "Mom wants a meeting,to say and tell everything."
Ruby tensed. "Then we do too."
I nodded.

The cycle exposed,confrontation coming.and no more hiding.