Chapter 136
Chapter 136
Mary Carter’s POV
The cold pierce through my thin sweater as Lily and I stumble through the back door of our estate, the beautiful looking mansion behind us sends a message of prison of pain, its walls echoing with my husband’s rage.
My heart is pounding hard, my legs trembling, Lily’s hand gripping mine, her small frame fierce despite the bruises blooming on her cheek, the blood crusted at her lip. I’m stunned, as I replay her defiance—her scream, “You’re a monster!”—as she threw herself at Richard, her nails clawing, dragging him away from me, saving me from his fists. My daughter, my gentle Lily, stood taller than I ever could, her courage a blaze against the darkness of his abuse, and I’m awestruck, ashamed, my love for her is a wave threatening to drown me.
We’re running now, the gravel path cutting into my bare feet, the winter air sharp in my lungs, the estate’s gates at a distance reflecting hope. Lily’s pulling me, her duffel bag bouncing, her eyes wild but focused, her strength a storm I don’t deserve. I’m weak, broken, years of Richard’s slaps, his kicks, his abusive ways, his “You’re nothing” carving me hollow and weak, leaving me a coward who couldn’t protect her.
The memory of his attack today—his fist slamming Lily’s jaw, her body crumpling, my screams useless—chokes me with guilt. He’d turned on me, his shoes cracking my ribs, his hand striking my face, blood trickling, until Lily, battered but unbroken, fought back, her “Leave her alone!” a warrior’s cry that shattered my paralysis.
We reach a wooded patch, the mansion is a looming shadow now and I collapse against a tree, my breath ragged, my body screaming, tears burning my eyes. Lily stops, her hand still clutching mine, her face a mask of pain and determination, and I break, sobs tearing from me,fast, unstoppable. “Lily,” I choke, my voice barely a whisper, my tears falling, “I’m so sorry.” I slide to the ground, leaves crunching, my hands covering my face, shame and love colliding. “I’m so weak, baby. I couldn’t fight for you, couldn’t stop him. You… you saved me, and I failed you.”
Lily kneels, with her arms wrapping around me, her warmth a balm, her voice soft but fierce. “Mom, don’t,” she says, her own tears falling, her cheek bruised, her eyes bright with a strength I don’t recognize. “You’re not weak. You survived him. We’re out now, together.” Her words pierce me, her forgiveness a gift I can’t fathom, and I sob harder, my body shaking, her courage a mirror to my cowardice.
I pull back, cupping her face, my thumbs tracing her bruises, her father’s marks, and my heart fractures. “You stood up to him,” I whisper, awe and pain in my voice. “I’ve never… I couldn’t do that. He hit you, and you fought for me. My brave girl.” My voice breaks, memories flooding—Richard’s fist on my jaw, his boots on my ribs, his voice calling me worthless, with Lily as a toddler crying in the corner. I stayed silent, thinking I protected her by enduring, but I was wrong, leaving her to face his rage, his “You’re a whore” when he saw her photos with Crew, her love, a rebellion I envied but feared.
“I had to,” Lily says, her voice trembling, her eyes distant. “He was going to kill you, Mom. I couldn’t let him.” She swallows hard.
Richard’s fury over it, his “You lost it?” a prelude to his blows, and I wonder where it is, if it’s with that boy, Crew, who’s given her this fire.
“I should’ve left years ago,” I say, my voice rough, tears streaming. “I thought I was keeping us safe, staying quiet, but I let him hurt you. Your bruises… they’re my fault.” I sob, my head bowing, guilt a weight crushing me. “I saw his fists, his anger, and I did nothing. You’re so strong, Lily, and I’m… nothing.”
“You’re everything,” she says, fierce, her hands gripping mine, her eyes blazing. “You’re my mom. You took his hits to protect me, gave me time to grow, to fight. We’re free now, because of you, because you ran with me.” Her words are a life, pulling me from despair, and I cling to them, my sobs easing, her love a strength I don’t deserve.
I think of Richard, his rage when he saw Lily’s photos—Crew’s bare chest, her lip-gloss kisses, their intimacy—and his attack, his fists on her, on me, his obsession with controlling is a sickness. Lily’s defiance, her “I hate you!” shocked him, gave us this chance, and I’m amazed, my daughter was a warrior where I was a ghost. “You love him, don’t you?” I ask, my voice soft, Crew’s name unspoken but heavy. “This boy… he’s why you fought?”
She nods, tears falling, her voice a whisper. “Crew… he makes me feel alive, Mom. But Dad knows, and I’m scared, for us, for him.” Her fear mirrors mine, but her courage, her love, is a fire I want to shield, to nurture.
“We’ll be safe,” I say, my voice firm, with confidence I haven’t felt in years. “And ourselves. We’re not going back, Lily. Never again.” I stand, pulling her up, my ribs aching, my face swollen, but my heart alive, her strength igniting mine. “We’ll find help, go somewhere safe. You’re not alone.”
She nods, her eyes bright, and we move, the woods a shield, the mansion fading. My tears dry, my love for her a blaze, her fight a spark that’s lit my own. I’m sorry—for my weakness, my silence—but I’m here now, running with her, fighting for her, for us. Richard’s rage, his fists, are behind us, and ahead is freedom, a future where Lily’s courage leads, where I’ll learn to be the mother she deserves. We’re bruised, broken, but alive, and I’ll never let her down again, my daughter, my warrior, my reason to fight.
“Come on mom.” Lily says as I snap out of my thoughts.
“I need to call a friend.”She adds quietly as she searches for her phone in her duffel bag.
“Crew right?” I ask,smiling as she nods slowly.
“Yeah.”