The last time I saw Silas, he was drunk, angry and violent. His eyes had blazed with fury as he'd repeatedly hit me, grabbed me.
But now, when he looks at me, they widen in surprise. His lips part as he stares at me, and I recognize the sharp look in his eyes as blatant fear.
His mother looks away from her younger son to see Silas' open mouth and sickly pallor. When she turns to see what he's staring at, her face hardens.
"Leave," she glares, burning us with her glare.
"Pretty sure this is a public place," I shrug, raising my eyebrow. "And I'm not the one violating a restraining order."
I've gotten so good at masking the churning fear inside me, and coming across as calm and unbothered. Even now, I know Silas cannot hurt me. But it's the memory of him that flashes before my eyes, reminding me of a darkness I've spent so long trying to rise above.
"Don't you think you people have done enough to our family?" Mrs Mitchell bites.
Mom and I both laugh a short, sardonic chuckle. Surprised at our simultaneous reaction, I laugh again, genuinely.
"Oh that is a good one," Mom nods, crossing her arms. "Funny, I don't remember my child beating the living daylights out of yours."
"You don't-"
"Don't what?" I cut her off, stepping forward. Reactively, Silas takes a step backwards. "I'd love to hear this."
"Mom, let's just go," Silas urges her.
He's lost the confident, care-free demeanor of his former self. Now he's quiet, still angry and lacking the life he used to emanate. As I look into his face, I see other things. Scars, along his eyebrow and jawline. He has bags under his eyes and I realize that the ashen look to his face isn't just fear; it's the color of his skin now. The color of someone sick, who doesn't get outside.
"Yes," Mom stares Mrs Mitchell down. And even that bitch can't stand up to Charlotte King's gaze. "Why don't you just go."
Mrs Mitchell fixes her eyes on me. Again, like that day on the street, they give me a cold feeling inside my chest. Her eyes have no color. They're the color of a corpse.
"Something to say?" I ask her, my face an immovable mask.
"Mom," Silas says, harsher. "Let's go."
"I hope you're proud of yourself," Mrs Mitchell mutters to me, ignoring her son.
"Actually, I am," I nod slowly. "I was in a pretty dark place after your sick excuse for a son attacked me. And now I'm doing just fine. I think the better question would be, are you all proud of yourselves? That's a really stand-up family you've got there."
"You little-"
"You bite your tongue, before you wish you had," Mom says sharply.
Mrs Mitchell glowers, reaching back to grab her younger son's hand.
"Come on, boys," she says.
Not needing to be asked twice, Silas quickly steps forward to pass us. He tries to slide past me, but I arrogantly step in front of him. Mom reaches for me, but stops, seeing that Silas is completely dejected. He stops, staring at the ground, refusing to meet my eyes.
"Well," I say softly, my arms crossed and my eyes fixed on his face. "You're looking a little worse for the wear. Y'know, I've heard that correctional institutions all over the country are very welcoming to rapists."
He moves his eyes up to meet mine, inches away from my face. He is the picture of misery. For a second, I get a sick pleasure from it. I feel glad that he's so despondent. But his blue-grey eyes are dead, and the bags under his eyes are a cruel violet, and I see that his nose has been broken, probably more than once.
"Silas," Mrs Mitchell barks.
Smartly, she had started to turn in the opposite direction to leave the aisle, rather than trying to pass my mother and me.
We stand there, staring at each other. I don't even blink, I just watch him with an unwavering stare. My resolve nearly softening as I notice that his eyes have begun to dampen.
"Silas," Mrs Mitchell calls again, more harshly.
"Shut up, Alice," Mom retorts.
Mom will later tell me that the look of surprise on Mrs Mitchell's face nearly made her laugh, but it worked. She didn't say another word.
Silas looks at me, and somewhere in the abyss that are his lifeless eyes, I see a flicker of who he used to be. Who he was before all that shit happened with his dad, and before he got so angry he forgot who he was. Before we started dating and any semblance of our friendship was lost forever.
He doesn't cry, but his eyes are covered in a slick of moisture. His forehead crinkles with the weight of his desolation, and his lips slowly part.
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
It's so quiet I barely hear it, and there's no way his mother can hear it from where she stands at the end of the aisle.
"I'm so sorry," Silas repeats, and his eyes fill.
Before I can say anything he returns his gaze to the floor, a habit he no doubt picked up in juvie, and passes us.
Surprised doesn't even begin to describe how I feel. I flick my eyes over to Mrs Mitchell just in time to see her whisk her son away to follow Silas.
When they're gone, I exhale deeply.
"You're okay, baby," Mom says quietly, squeezing my hand.
She stands in front of me, forcing me to focus on her, rather than the situation.
She slips a lock of hair behind my ear.
"Baby?"
"I'm okay," I nod, swallowing.
I glance into the cart, knowing that we've only picked up about half the stuff I need.
"Let's go home, okay?" I say, meeting her eyes.
She nods and we turn and leave the aisle.
"She's alright," I hear Mom talking on the phone.
The ride home, she kept talking to me, making sure I was okay. Making sure I wasn't going to slip into a place where I disappear and don't talk to anybody.
"Just a little shaken," Mom goes on.
I hear her perfectly through my slightly open bedroom door, as she paces their bedroom.
"No, honey, she was fine. Great, actually. You'd have been proud of her. She stood her ground."
I exhale for probably the 300th time. I keep taking these deep breaths; it's a habit I picked up from Violet. I look at my phone as it lights up. A third text message from Axel.
I told him I'd come over afterwards, to help do some last minute things for the party. He was expecting me an hour ago. I've put off calling him, because I know he's gonna go a bit Bruce Banner about it.
I sigh, blowing the air out of my puffed out cheeks, and pick up my phone to call him.
"Hey beautiful," he answers. "Where you at?"
"Um, I just got back...from shopping," I reply dumbly. I don't know why I lied. I got back to the house over an hour ago, and Mom only left my room 20 minutes ago. So for the past 20 minutes I've just been sitting on my bed, leaning against the wall and thinking.
"What's goin' on?" Axel asks, all-knowing when it comes to me and my voice.
"Well," I sigh. "I have a story for you, but you can't flip out."
"Oh that's a great way to start a conversation," he replies sarcastically. "What happened? Are you okay?"
"Yes," I reply. "I'm okay. When I tell you what happened, I need you to keep repeating that sentence to yourself, okay?"
"Kati," he replies, meaning quit beating around the bush and tell him before he gets impatient and freaks out.
"I...ran into Silas today. Shopping."
His silence is possibly worse than a freak-out.
"Okay," he replies, short and furious. I know he's trying not to lose his mind.
"He was with his mom and his little brother, shopping for school supplies, and...yeah. Mom and I came around the corner and there they were."
"What did they say to you," he demands quietly.
"Oh, you know the way Mrs Mitchell thinks," I attempt nonchalance.
"And him?"
"He...apologized," I say quietly.
I'm not sure how I feel about this, and I know it's just going to piss Axel off.
"Apologized?" he says, incredulous. "He apologized for beating the shit out of you and trying to rape you?!"
"Axel," I begin, but I know that I just need to let him vent.
"Naw, fuck that. There's no apology that will ever excuse him from what he did. He's lucky he's even alive. I nearly fucking killed him that night. I told him, I told him, that if he ever even looked at you again, that I'd finish him off."
I chew the inside of my lip, letting him get it all out.
"I can't believe he'd even show his face here again. I can't fucking believe him. I'm going over there. He needs a little reminder of our last conversation."
"No, Axel," I sigh.
"No? Do you have any idea what it was like to walk into that room and see what it looked like? To see your blood everywhere, and then to walk into that hospital room and see a stranger staring back at me? I've never been so scared in my life, Kati. Never."
I drop my forehead into my hand.
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Naw," he replies, and I know he's shaking his head, pacing whatever room he's in. "Don't you dare apologize. Not for anything. I should have killed that asshole when I had the chance."
"And be in jail right now?" I shoot back. "No. Don't be ridiculous. Look, I understand how it must have been for you. I hate that you had to go through that, and I hate that you still feel guilty about it. But it was almost a year ago, Axel. We're happy, everything's fine...let's just leave it in the past."
"You forgive him?" he asks, his words short.
I take a breath.
"That's what I've been thinking about," I reply softly.
He sighs, and I can just see him, sitting down, jamming the thumb and forefinger of his right hand into his eyes. His signature stress-move.
"I wanna be supportive, Kati," he says softly. "I just can't be that easy-going when it comes to you; someone hurting you."
"What is hating him going to do?" I ask gently.
"I dunno," he replies. "But that's all I can do right now. I can't see my way around feeling anything else."
"I know," I say.
"So do you? Forgive him?" he asks.
I chew my lip, thinking. I've been thinking about it since the words came out of his mouth. I've been thinking about the past year, and everything that happened. I've been thinking that Silas may have changed me, but he didn't destroy me.
"Yes," I answer quietly.
I hear Axel breathe. He doesn't say anything.
"He could have killed you," he says through clenched teeth.
"But he didn't," I reply gently.
I can see that this is going to take some more time on his part.
"Look, I'm gonna come over in a bit, okay?"
"Yeah," he replies. "You're sure you're okay?"
"I'm sure."
"Alright," he's quiet. "I'll see you soon then. I love you."
"I love you too," I say.
When I hang up, Mom comes through the doorway.
"How'd that conversation go?" she asks, eyebrows raised.
"You first," I reply, as she climbs onto my bed and shuffles back to sit beside me, against the wall.
"Well, he's your daddy. What else can we expect?" she sighs. "I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't furious, too."
"Yeah," I nod. "Axel's pretty mad. He still blames himself. He thinks he should have known, or something."
"I suppose it's a Man thing. Protective instincts."
"Then what's your excuse?" I hide a grin.
"My excuse?" she raises an eyebrow. "Baby girl I don't need no excuses. You are my child and anyone who messes with you gets me to deal with. That ain't ever gonna change."
I smile, looking down at my phone as I fidget with it.
"I overheard a bit of what you said," she goes on, quietly. "You forgive him?"
I glance over at her and then take a deep breath, trying to sweep the heavy feeling that still permeates my chest.
"I think I do," I reply.
She smiles, small, and takes my hand in both of hers.
"Did you? Forgive...that other guy?"
"Yes," she replies, nodding. "Eventually. But he was also dyin' on a gurney in front of me, and your uncle Sam was about to do surgery on him."
"What?" I frown. I haven't heard this before.
"His girlfriend stabbed him, a few months after he attacked me. Came into Ambrose with a butcher knife in his chest. I walked into his exam room, looked down at him and told him that if he died, I wanted to be the last thing he ever saw. And then I told him that I forgave him. I added some other things, but it's not important."
"Other things?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Good lord, child, sometimes you look so much like me, it's scary," she grins.
I smile, looking down at her hands, holding mine.
"Point is, I forgave him. I decided there was no point in hatin' him. He was outta my life, he didn't take mine. He changed me, but he didn't ruin me."
I look up at her and smile. "I was thinking almost the exact same thing."
"Smart girl," she grins, tweaking my chin.
"Axel doesn't get it," I say after a moment.
"Well, neither does your daddy. Even now," Mom shrugs. "Just gotta let them deal with it in their own time."
I nod.
"I guess he was expectin' you some time ago?"
"Yeah," I sigh. "I'm gonna head over there, I think."
"Alright, sugar," she says.
After a minute, she says, "Hey."
I look up and she smiles.
"Have I told you lately how much I love you?"
"Yes, Rod Stewart," I grin.
She tickles my ribs until I shriek.
"Okay! Sorry!"
She wraps her arms around me tightly.
"I'm so proud of you. You're just...an amazing girl. Well...young woman, I guess," she releases me, looking at me.
"That sounds too weird," I wrinkle my nose.
"Well in my eyes you'll always be a child," she replies.
We move to get off the bed.
"You be sure and call if you need a ride," she gives me a Mom look.
"I will," I promise.
"Alright then," she sighs. "Have fun tonight."
"Thanks," I grin.
"I love you."
"I love you, too," I reply, and she squeezes my hand before leaving my room