Page 96 of Tough Love
There’s no use fighting it. We’re two different people, living two separate lives. Association by name is all we have, and when you can’t stand to be in the same room as the other person because all it does is choke the air, then what does that matter?
“All I wanted was for you to believe me,” I murmur, turning away.
The echo of her door as she slams it hard rebounds off the walls of Mum and Dad’s hallway. I don’t even fight the tears. Why bother? I’m not ashamed of how the rejection makes me feel, only that I can’t find a way to fix it.
I had a sister once, and we did everything together. I loved her more than both my parents combined. She would have done anything she could to see me smile.
I had a sister once, and they were the happiest years of my life.
THIRTY-TWO
Evan’s worked overtime all week to try and find a loophole that will keep Tristan away from us, even though I tell him it’s no use. He’s the kind of guy who’d find a way, no matter what legal threats Evan gives him.
Tristan doesn’t understand rules or proper etiquette. To him there’s only wants and needs—his.
Despite the fact I’ve given the school warning that Tristan’s back in town, and they’ve reassured me there’s no way he could get into the locked premises without permission, I can’t find it in me to concentrate throughout the day.
All I think about is Briar. How this affects his day. How it affects his future. And what the long-term implications will be if Tristan decides to carry on this fight for years to come.
He’s cunning in his abuse. He does little things that over time will wear me down, that will piece by piece weaken my resolve until somewhere along the line I’ll slip up, tired, and not as sharp as I need to be to keep on top of his game.
In the short space of a week I’ve had the graffiti on my car, smashed wing mirrors, my rubbish bin upturned and every bag torn open as though he searches for something, and most recently, Evan was late for his shift because he had to change a slashed tyre on the Jeep.
I stood watch in the freezing pre-dawn air while he did, worried it was a trick to get Evan alone. And the whole time I could feel him, his eyes on us, watching, waiting, calculating.
I don’t know how long I can keep going like this, knowing how badly Tristan drained me after the last episode.
How strongamI when it comes to the crunch? Will I be enough for Briar? Able to protect him from his own flesh and blood?
“Can you open this for me, Aunty?” Briar passes a sealed water bottle over.
I crack the top and pass it back, watching as he takes a big gulp before setting the bottle down beside his activity book. We’re seated opposite each other at the table, him with his pictures to colour in, and me with my laptop open on the online form I need to fill in to apply for guardianship of Briar, and to apply to have Tristan removed as one.
The sooner we can finalise the legalities, the better. Once Tristan is removed as having any rights over Briar it’ll be easier to sideswipe him with the strong arm of the law. Until then, we have to be careful what we do to block his access in case it works against our case in court.
Apparently, I have to be seen astryingto accommodate Tristan’s requests, no matter how abusive he is when he makes them.
Given the bastard’s history, it’s a fucking joke.
“When will Evan be home?”
It touches me how Briar calls my apartment home and includes Evan in the equation as though it’s completely normal. But, then again, I suppose it is. We only had a few days here together on our own before Evan started staying over. He’s been more a part of Briar’s new life with me than he hasn’t.
“Soon, I hope.”
Evan’s been coming home later and later, almost obsessed with his crusade to find a way to ensure they throw away the key when Tristan is returned for his parole violations. Because he will be. Sooner or later he’ll slip up, and sooner or later we’ll have the hard evidence to show he’s breaking his terms.
I manage to fill out the forms required to lodge my application for guardianship without too much problem despite the thoughts distracting me as the afternoon light fades to night. A heady mix of apprehension and excitement fills me as I press the submit button. Briar’s blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil as I look him over, his head cocked to the side as he concentrates on a particularly tricky part of his picture.
A month ago I’d only just met this wee guy for the first time, yet already, I feel as though we’ve settled into our day-to-day as though this is normal, like we’ve done it a hundred times before.
The click of the catch on the front door catches both of our attention, and I look at Briar with a smile and wide eyes. “Who’s that?”
“Evan!” He drops his pencil, the picture forgotten, and launches off the seat to run and greet him.
“Hey,” Evan says with a laugh as he drops his work bag and scoops Briar into a bear hug. “How was your day?”
“Good. How was yours?”