Second Chance

A girl thought

I felt like I was dying.

With every slap, every hurtful word, and every forced laugh.

Each time I pretended to be fine and smiled through the pain, I could feel myself drifting away.

Sometimes, I thought about whether I should have spoken up when they pushed me, at 18, to marry Oscar to make my mom happy.

Or maybe I should have fought back when he hit me the first time?

But it was always too late for those thoughts.

So, I just hid it behind a smile.

I smiled to convince everyone else I was okay.

Then I smiled to convince myself I was okay.

I didn’t realise back then that being 'late' didn’t mean I missed my chance.

Being late was actually a chance in itself...

To correct your mistakes.

Sitting on Mr Derson's porch, I suddenly felt the heaviness of my fake life pressing down on me. But honestly, why here?

Why in this totally random moment, with nothing to do with my past? Why now, after four long years? It was like everything just hit me all at once.

Then I felt a hand on my back, a gentle and kind touch. I looked up and saw the teenage girl looking at me, her face a mix of worry and confusion.

"Are you okay, Ma'am? Did you know him?" she asked, squeezing my hand softly.

'Him?' I thought, was she talking about Mr Derson?

"No," I replied. "I just realised that I didn't waste four years; I was actually working on becoming a new version of myself."

I chuckled a little at that, "Though honestly, I think I took my sweet time."

She looked puzzled, probably trying to figure out what was going on with me, but she didn’t leave or ask more questions.

Instead, she pulled me in for a hug.

"Don't worry about it, Madam," she said, tightening her grip a bit. "You didn’t do anything... You are..." Her voice wobbled as she stumbled over her words, tears suddenly streaming down her face.

Honestly, I should have asked her the same question she posed to me. A lot of folks would probably say that would’ve been the right move, but I didn’t.

I wrapped my arms around her.

"Please don’t stop," I urged. "Let’s just get it all out; that bottle’s full, you know?" She let out a mix of laughter and sobs, wiping her nose.

I was totally lost. Here we were, two strangers with no shared history, standing on a soaked floor. Yet, I couldn’t think of a better scenario.

Before long, we pulled away, both chuckling at the mess we were in. "Sorry!" we said simultaneously as we helped each other to our feet.

"What’s even happening right now?" I raised an eyebrow, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I just saw Mr Derson get taken away for something involving underage stuff.

“She sighed, saying, 'I lost something I never really had,' while looking at the guy in the black shirt, nervously tugging at her dress sleeves. 'I shouldn't have thought that way in the first place.'

'Thinking how?' I asked, trying to take it easy and not overwhelm her.

'Did he hurt a kid?' I asked, trying to clarify what I had heard.

The girl was about to share more, but then a woman who had been crying rushed in, pushing her aside a bit too forcefully but still gently.

'Let me tell you what happened! That guy ruined her, he ruined me, he ruined our whole family! There are so many other women, but he decided to go after... after my daughter—'

The man in the black shirt stepped in closer, pulling her away and cutting her off. 'Stop airing our dirty laundry!' he shouted, trying to drag her away.

She grabbed onto his collar and then his arm, pushing him against the wall. 'You better leave for good instead of telling me what to do, because I’m not putting up with that!'”

The man looked confused, no, bewildered. Like someone who had seen something they would have never deemed possible.

"Can someone fill me in a bit more? I could use some extra info, you know," I pleaded.

"Alright, tell me," the woman asked. "What’s your connection to Mr Derson?"

"I’m a client," I said. "He’s my lawyer."

The girl grinned along with the woman, who I figured was a family member since they looked so alike.

"I’ll share what I know."

"It was probably on a Sunday," Abigail began. We introduced ourselves by name as soon as we entered.

Their house was a vibrant splash of colours, with each room having its own vibe. The living room we were in had this cool mix of light and dark pinks everywhere.

"I met him at church, where he sang in the choir. He was really helpful," Abigail explained.

"And how did he help you?" I asked.

"I was captivated by those beautiful choir voices, and I really wanted to join in on that harmony...so he helped me out," she sighed. "In hindsight, I shouldn’t have said yes."

"Just take a deep breath," I said.

She let out a sigh and nodded at me. "You know, I'm such an i***t. We kept hanging out, and after some time, he confessed that he loved me.

"I really believed him, Kourtney. I took everything he said at face value, and honestly, I don’t get why I’d fall for that." She dropped her hands to her knees, and her head followed as the memory hit her hard.

I wasn’t sure how to respond. She didn’t need to get lost in her feelings; just reflecting was enough. So, I gave her the space she needed.

From what I heard, Mr Derson got arrested for minor s****l i*********e, which sort of clued me in that things escalated.

"I should’ve seen it coming," Mrs Cassie said slowly. Earlier, she told me she was Abigail’s mom.

"I should’ve realised when Abigail started getting home early for curfew. I should’ve caught on when she was doing the dishes, cleaning up, and taking care of the laundry without even being asked," she sighed again.

"She did everything to not be suspicious, that should've been my first signal, that something was wrong. I'm her mother. Why didn't I notice my baby acting differently? WHY!??" She fell to the floor, her legs raised with her back to the wall.

Abigail and I moved to her, trying everything and anything to comfort her. We held her tight, and Abigail ran her fingers through her hair.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I know now that I was dumb, I was an i***t. I've finally gotten it back together, Mom. Please...don't cry".

Cassie chuckled and hugged her daughter close, saying, "I won't cry, sorry about that!"

Their words really touched a part of me that believed I was the root of everyone's issues. Maybe that's why I went along with everything they suggested.

I was worn out from being seen as the problem.

But now, I'm over seeing myself that way.

Everyone craves love, which is why Abigail was convinced she loved Mr Derson; she held on to one simple truth.

He loved her.

Even if it wasn’t set in stone, she didn’t want that kind of thought messing with her head. She was eager to find out what it would be like; she was curious.

I emerged from Oscar's web hoping to find someone who could help me create my own, one we could enjoy together.

I had no idea I could actually build my own web.

I gently nudged Abigail, "I’m heading out now, I've got something important to handle."

She smiled and gave me her number along with her mother's... "Call me", she whispered.

I laughed as I proceeded to step out, remembering the little boy from Louis's mansion.

The next step was to contact his father.