It was a profound, catastrophic failure.
“Helen told me,” Audrey continued, her voice thinning out, “that if I persistently complained to you, you would eventually conclude that I was mentally unstable. Then, your mother began validating her. They would constantly tell me I was misremembering conversations. That I was prone to hysterical overreactions. That the pregnancy hormones were making me a dramatic burden. Sometimes, I would catch Sarah looking incredibly upset, but she never intervened. She just walked away.”
Hot, silent tears tracked rapidly down her pale cheeks, dripping onto the collar of my shirt. “After weeks of it, I genuinely started to believe I was becoming an intolerable burden. I thought maybe your exhaustion was entirely my fault. I thought maybe I smelled repulsive. Maybe my changing body looked grotesque. Helen would force me to bathe twice a day. Then three times. She repeatedly told me that pregnant women become utterly disgusting if they aren’t subjected to rigorous hygiene.”
I reached out with agonizing slowness and gently enclosed her trembling hands within mine.
She did not flinch this time.
“Did that monster ever strike you?” I asked, every muscle in my jaw locking tight.
Audrey hesitated. Her breath hitched.
Then, she gave a single, microscopic nod.
It was an infinitesimal movement. Barely a dip of the chin. But it was entirely sufficient to annihilate whatever fragile remnants of self-control I still possessed.
“Where?” I demanded.
“Never on my face,” she whispered, her tone saturated with a toxic, misplaced shame that did not belong to her. “My upper arms. The back of my thighs. Once, she struck me between the shoulder blades. She lectured me that bruises hidden beneath clothing didn’t officially count. She would maliciously pinch the soft skin under my arms if I moved too slowly. If I refused to make eye contact, she would grab my jaw and force my head up.”
I bowed my head, pressing my forehead against her knuckles, and allowed a wave of pure, homicidal rage to wash over my nervous system in absolute silence. Because if I opened my mouth right now, I would promise her violent retribution instead of the clinical safety she so desperately required. And safety was the only currency that mattered.
