Hate, Love, and Forbidden Affair

Bridgette's POV "I'm getting married Bridgette," my mother's words sent waves of shock through my body. "That's not possible, I mean — when? How?" I asked, my eyes twitching, refusing vehemently to accept her words. "I said I am getting married Bridgette!" She said again, and the wave of unpleasant memories came crashing into me again. "I thought we had gone past this, I've made my stance clear Mom, you are not getting married, you cannot get married to anyone, never! Again!" I yelled, my voice breaking, as my breaths hitched, and I could feel my throat clawing and closing in on themselves. "Why do you have to be so selfish Bridgette? Haven't I paid, have I not suffered enough to get my own happy ending," She retorted, her eyes brimming with tears as she walked closer to me? "How can you be fine when I'm not fine! You knew how everything happened or have you forgotten? Have you forgotten what happened last time..." "No I haven't Bridgette, it still claws at my mind every fuckin time I think about it darling," she said, holding her hands out to kill me closer. "No don't you touch me," I yelled, holding her back from touching me. "I—I love him, Bridgette," She mumbled, her voice croaking with tears. "That is impossible mom, you promised me, no more marriage..." "I was only married once Bridgette, do I have to suffer for my whole life because of this, I was also growing Bridgette, I didn't know better, and you know very well how much I fought for you when it happened." She said, walking closer. "No, you don't, you weren't the one who had to go through what he put me through..." "He made my life miserable as well Bridgette, he beat me, made me suffer emotionally, mentally..."" "I was a child mom!" "And It is my fuckin first life, Bridgette, I didn't come to life for you alone, I birthed you, but doesn't call for you to dictate my life because of what happened to us both, I have learned and I have seen love In the right person, why won't you let me take it," she added, wiping her tears off with the back of her hands. "I'm learning to live past my traumas Bridgette, and I want you to do that as well, let me be happy once Bridgette," My mother said, falling to the ground in exhaustion. "Happy?" I spat, glaring at her as though the very word was poison. "You think you can just chase happiness and forget everything that happened? That he did to me—to us?" She flinched, her face tightening, but she didn’t say anything, but only fueled the anger burning in my chest. "I can’t believe this," I continued, pacing the room as my hands trembled. "Do you know what it feels like to relive that nightmare every time I close my eyes? Do you even remember what he did to me? Or have you conveniently buried it so you can live your so called happy life again?" "Don’t you dare," she said sharply, standing now, her voice steadier than I expected. "Don’t you dare accuse me of forgetting, Bridgette. I was there too. I fought for you. I fought for us." "You didn’t fight hard enough!" I shouted, my voice cracking as tears welled in my eyes. "You didn’t stop him, You didn’t protect me! If you did, we wouldn't be here!" Her face crumpled, and for a moment, I thought she might collapse under the weight of my words. But then she straightened, wiping her tears with trembling hands. "I couldn’t protect you then," she said softly, her voice breaking. "I couldn’t protect myself. But I’ve spent every day since trying to make up for that. And I’ll never stop. Not for as long as I live." "Then why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you risking everything again? Do you know what it feels like to see you with someone else? To think that history might repeat itself?" She stepped closer, her gaze locking onto mine. "Because I can’t let fear control my life anymore. I deserve to be happy, Bridgette. We both do. But you... you won’t let yourself move on. You won’t even let yourself heal." "Because it still hurts," I snapped, tears streaming down my face. "Because every time I think about it, I feel like I’m back there again, trapped, helpless, broken. And I can’t let that happen again. Not to you. Not to me." Her lips trembled, and for a moment, she looked as though she might cry again. But instead, she reached for my hands, holding them tightly. "I know it hurts," she said softly. "I know it feels like you’ll never get past it. But we can’t keep living in the shadow of what he did. We deserve more than that. You deserve more than that." I pulled my hands away, stepping back as my chest heaved. "You don’t understand," I whispered. "You don’t know what it’s like to carry this... this thing inside you every day. To feel it eating away at you, even when you try to pretend it’s not there." "Then tell me," she said, her voice breaking. "Tell me what you’re carrying, Bridgette. Help me understand." But I couldn’t. The words were stuck in my throat, tangled with the memories I couldn’t bear to face. Instead, I turned away, wrapping my arms around myself as though I could hold the pieces of me together. "You’ll hate me if I go through with this," she said softly after a long pause. "I know you will. But Bridgette, I can’t keep punishing myself for what he did. And I can’t let you keep punishing yourself either." Her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, I thought about the way things used to be—before him, before everything fell apart. But those days felt like a lifetime ago, and the girl I was then didn’t exist anymore. "I need time," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can’t promise I’ll ever be okay with this. But I need time to figure out... how to live with it." She nodded, tears streaming down her face as she stepped closer. "Take all the time you need, Bridgette. Just promise me you’ll try." I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Instead, I walked away, leaving her standing there with tears in her eyes and hope in her voice. And for the first time in years, I let myself wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was a way to move forward without being consumed by the past.