“V, please, you need to come out of the room. I’m begging you,” Brenda pleaded, knocking softly on the door.
I stared at the door, too drained to even move. My body ached, and I had spent the entire night torturing myself with thoughts of what to do next. Where would I even begin? How would I tell Kelly that her father no longer wanted anything to do with me?
Brenda knocked again, more urgently this time. I forced myself up from the bed, each step feeling like a mountain to climb, and made my way to the door. As I opened it, Brenda rushed in, her eyes scanning me, then the room, as if she was expecting the worst, that I had hurt myself. But I hadn’t.
Not physically, at least.
Brenda’s face softened with relief, but her concern didn’t fade completely. She closed the door behind her and
