Lesson of the Day: Reality is only what you perceive. Try to perceive what’s real.

Mikka

Larger than life—larger than this small town, at the very least—Jay dominated the first take the next week.

He’d promised me he would, swore up and down that he had this challenge in the bag, and even went so far as to tell anyone who would listen about how we were moving in together soon.

Lorraine was thrilled. She literally patted herself on the back and said she knew the iron headboard wasn’t banging around up there for no reason.

I could have shrunk away from embarrassment, but Lorraine didn’t respect anyone who couldn’t dish it right back.

I told her Ray had stopped by the day before and I’d let him know exactly what was in her box shipped from King Chang. She cackled all the way to her bedroom.

We were called to the set at 6:00 AM that morning. I was always astonished when I pulled up and saw what they’d done to make the location match the director’s vision.

Greenville Village and its shops had been transformed. Trailers lined the street around the corner, and lights had been placed strategically for camera angles near store fronts. I knew Delilah and Ray had given the crew permission to film inside and in front of their store.

It would be a good tourism boost if the movie did well. Jay knew it, which is why he’d requested that the last scenes be done right here.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and whispered that he was ready to finish this thing.

Then he disappeared with hair and makeup and I walked the street. I introduced myself to a few people who were outside, mostly techs working on the mics and lighting.

The director and Lela were still in their trailers. Most times on these sets, they wouldn’t come out until it was time to shoot. They avoided the audience forming down the street and talking with anyone they regarded as less significant.

I knew the drill. I wasn’t a part of the elite crowd here.

I camped out with Delilah and Ray instead. I wasn’t a celebrity, didn’t belong on the other side of the barrier, even if Jay wanted me to be there.

I watched from afar for the first few takes and had tears in my eyes when the first one wasn’t cut at all. The director let them play it out. Lela and Jay smiled at each other like they knew their onscreen chemistry was explosive.

I wanted to be happy for them; I wanted to support Jay the way I always had. But, as he stared into the beautiful actress’s eyes like he had mine, I felt a little bit of our world crumble away. He belonged there, with someone like her. The power she exuded, the attention she held—it was as powerful as the wrecking ball Jay claimed me to be. The first time he kissed her, I didn’t know how to handle the stabbing feeling in my heart. It mixed with the feeling of getting lost in them, of my heart melting for the love they portrayed so well.

Delilah squeezed my shoulder, and I sighed. “I’m going to go for a walk. I’ll be back later.”

I tapped out of the situation for a while, walked the streets of Greenville to take in the colder air. Winter approached with each morning frost but was held back by each warm autumn afternoon. Down the road, the birch trees faded to yellow plums and the grass dimmed from its vibrant green to a golden brown. The colors of nature listened closely to the weather, pulling back their brilliance to make sure the snow stood out when it fell.

I wondered if I would see it, if the first snowflakes would fall while I was here, if the town would give me the opportunity to see another layer of it.

My phone rang when I rounded the corner on Lorraine’s block. Mom popped up on the screen.

“Mom, I was going to call you this week.”

“Of course you were,” she agreed, which wasn’t like her. I smiled. Maybe she missed me; maybe she wanted to chat rather than bicker.

My melancholy mood warmed at the idea that I would be seeing her soon.

“I’ll be home next week. I’ll try to fly in to see you right away. Are Bryan and Anton still there?” My mother had taken Bryan under her wing when his parents had disowned him a long time ago. Now, him and his partner came to visit every now and then.

“No. They left. When Dougie called to say he was coming to visit, I figured he wanted privacy when he asked for your hand in marriage.”

“My…wait…what?” I halted in front of Lorraine’s, my stomach twisting in knots. “He’s there?”

“I’m making him supper. There’s only one reason a man comes to visit a woman’s parents without her, Mikka. I should have kept it to myself. I was going to because I don’t think I’ll say yes.”

“Mom…” I whispered, trying to gasp for air. I was trying and failing. The fear I’d forgotten descended on me like a hurricane, stronger than any other storm I’d ever had to weather. I could deal with Dougie. I was equipped to. I’d built up my storm doors, cemented myself against the physical and emotional abuse and been able to endure it.

But Dougie, alone with my mother—I hadn’t planned for that.

“Mikka, don’t sound so dejected. He’s not listening. He will listen tonight when I tell him your hand is worth a thousand of his. He thinks he can have you even though he doesn’t work. Yue Lao would be so displeased. I mean—”

“Mom!” I yelled, stalking toward the house. “I need you to let Dougie know I’m coming. I need you to be nice to him. I’ll be home soon. I’m taking the first flight I can get on.”

“Oh, now you want to come home because your boyfriend and mother might quibble?”

I took the stairs two at a time. “He’s not himself, Mom.” I mustered up the courage; I pushed out the words that stuck in my throat. “He’s dangerous.”

“Excuse me?” she whispered.

“Just…” I closed my eyes and fisted my hand, trying hard to keep my tears at bay. I wracked my brain for options. I’d never reported him. I’d done everyone an injustice, put lives at risk by keeping it a secret.

Even then I thought of his pain, of what he’d been through. I saw the way he looked at me right before he was about to hit me, like he’d lost the control he’d struggled to keep for so long. Turning him in, putting it on record, calling the cops to let them know our dirty secret felt like betrayal.

“Mikka, are you saying—”

“I’m going to call the non-emergency police line. I’m going to fly home now.” I threw everything into my bag. Then I ran to Jay’s room and grabbed my book bag too. “Be calm, Mom.”

“I’m not going to be—Dougie!”

I heard the phone rustling.

“Get your ass here, Mikka.”

My hand shook as his voice rasped into the phone.

“And don’t you dare think of calling someone. I deserve a private conversation with you. If I have to hold this knife to your mother until I get one, then so be it.”

My phone lit up, signaling that the line went dead. I called back once, twice, and again, but there was no answer. I tried his phone, and it went straight to voicemail.

Adrenaline kicked in. I had to save one of the only people I loved. My mind sharpened, and my instincts, my drive to overcome the impossible, took over.

Jay couldn’t help me with this—it would ruin his shoot and possibly his career—so I called Brady. He raced me to the airport without asking questions. I told him I had to leave; it was a matter way out of my control.

I wondered if everyone else on the flight to San Francisco thought the pilot took his time, that we should have arrived in half the time. Minutes passed by so painfully, they tore at my soul, sliver by sliver.

Was my mom safe? Would Dougie have the gall to harm another human? The worry magnified my guilt because I’d ignored the signs.

This was all my fault. I’d ignored the advice I read over and over to report abuse. I even ignored my own advice to friends who’d faced this situation before me. When I saw a woman being hit on TV shows, I’d scream at the screen for her to leave, to call the cops, to do something. And I’d done exactly the opposite.

Abuse was fickle like that. Wasn’t that the saddest thing ever? I hadn’t really loved myself, not the way I’d loved so many others, not enough to leave. When it was just me, I covered it up. I dealt with the abuse, the pain, the guilt, and the shame. If it had been someone I loved, I’d have fought to the death for them. But I hadn’t fought for myself.

We’d all succumbed to the idea of a good man, to the idea that a relationship could work if we just tried hard enough to fix it. But those men, the ones who turned violent and brutal, that continued to hurt the ones they loved, weren’t looking for someone to fix them. They were looking for a keeper of their secrets and demons. They were looking for a hollow vessel in which to dump all their fury and to keep it bottled up. Dougie had taken his time bleeding me dry so I was empty enough for him to abuse.

I let him. I bent my soul for him until it broke, and I would have stayed had I not had the support to pull me out.

That support showed me I was more than just a woman trying to be the best, though. I was a woman a whole town loved, a woman who could be good enough just by being herself.

I was the first person off that plane, and even when I saw the texts and missed calls from Jay coming in, I ignored them all to dial an Uber. I needed to get to my mother’s. I made a beeline from the terminals to the drive-up garage to catch my ride.

I couldn’t worry about Jay or what he would do if he thought I’d just left. It would look that way. There hadn’t been time to leave notes or explanations.

The shop’s lights were off, but my mother’s apartment above it glowed bright against the night sky. I waved off the Uber and grabbed my spare key.

Turning the locks and entering the shop felt like a horror film. I wasn’t sure where they were, what I would walk into when I climbed the stairs to her place or if I would be able to withstand the sight.

Still, adrenaline and love for my mother pushed me past the fear. I dropped my bag and suitcase in the doorway. Then I stretched my hand out as my eyes adjusted to the darkness and steered around a table. Stalking toward the glass counter and back door, I breathed in deep, trying to prepare myself. It was the only sound in the shop. San Francisco was eerily quiet tonight, and I heard no movement upstairs. I pictured my mother’s knife block. Had he grabbed a knife from there? Surely he wouldn’t hurt anyone besides me?

I had to believe I was his only outlet; I wished for it as my only wish ever.

As I was about to open the door to the back room, his voice echoed through the store. “I prefer you come take a seat at the table, Meek. This is where you and your mother used to interview all the perverts about what they really wanted, right?”

“Dougie, can I see my mom first?” I put my hands up like I didn’t want any problems, like I was willing to do what he wanted, and I was. I glanced at his hands and saw the knife, the largest one from my mother’s block glinting in the moonlight. “I just want to know that she’s alright.”

“You’re concerned about her wellbeing but not mine. That was made clear tonight.” He stood in the corner, hiding in the shadows, and waved the knife toward a chair. “Go sit the fuck down. Me and you are going to have a little interview of our own.”

I tried the voice of reason. “Come on, Dougie—”

“Get the fuck over there!”

I jumped at his bellow and instantly walked to the white plastic chairs. The day we got them, we sat in them for three hours to make sure they were comfortable and we didn’t get backaches. Mom used the time to talk me through a new product and then help me study for a quiz.

I tried not to cry over the memory; I tried to remain calm.

Dougie stalked toward the chair across from me and sat down. It was dwarfed by his large frame. A glare marred his soft face. “When did you decide you could walk away from us? Was it when you thought you could fuck the Hollywood heartthrob? He called and sounded oh-so-sad when I told him we were having dinner here tonight.”

My gut clenched. Jay didn’t need to know; he didn’t need to be a part of this. So much was unraveling and I wasn’t sure how to catch the thread. “Dougie, you’re being irrational. Think about what you’re doing. We can’t—”

He slammed his hand down on the glass, and the table rattled beneath it. “Don’t patronize me! God. You always were a fucking know-it-all bitch. I’m the one asking the questions. You answer them. Nothing else.”

I wrung my hands in front of me, thinking of what I could do. “Ok, ask away,” I said, completely monotone. I needed to replace my mother, I needed to get her to safety, and then I needed to call the cops. The look in Dougie’s eye told me he was so far gone, I wasn’t sure he’d ever come back to the man I once thought I loved.

Dougie shifted in his chair, his smile drunk with the power he thought he had. “Did you always have the whore in you? I tried to beat it out, baby. I tried to help you realize you and me are made for each other.”

His words had my stomach rolling. Bile rose as he stood and walked toward me. He had changed. Or we’d both changed. I wasn’t sure which. Maybe he’d always had this brutality in him and I’d rubbed him the wrong way one too many times. Maybe he’d warped into the monster before me all on his own.

It didn’t matter.

For once, I wasn’t the only one in danger. I could endure the pain, but when it was someone I loved, that changed everything.

The shaking stopped as he looked down at me, wedging himself between my legs by tapping the knife on the inside of my thigh, signaling for me to spread them. “You know we’re made for each other right?”

I stared up at him in the moonlight. He’d let his beard grow, along with his belly, and he pushed his length into my arm like he thought I would get turned on by it.

“Dougie, I can’t think with you holding that knife.”

He squinted like he wasn’t sure he could trust me but he wanted to, wanted us to get back to where we were.

Finally, he turned and set the knife down on the table. I shoved my chair back, remembering how light they were on the floor. I didn’t hesitate. I wasn’t that girl anymore.

I kicked him as hard as I could between the legs. He folded over, eyes popping out as he screamed, and I scrambled around him, lunging for the knife he’d placed out of reach.

I thought I’d make it. I thought I’d kicked him hard enough.

His meaty hand snarled into my hair and yanked me back. I flew into the air, but this time I fought back. I clawed his face, I dug my thumbs into his eyes, and I screamed like a banshee.

His other hand went around my neck as I hit the ground with a thud that knocked the wind out of me. I tried to gulp in air, but he’d blocked my airway.

“You don’t fucking listen.” He squeezed harder as he spat out the words. “Why. Don’t. You. Ever. Listen?” With each word, he pounded my skull into the ground.

I choked on my words as I scrambled and arched my body to shove him off but, Dougie was so much bigger than me. In a last ditch effort, I groped blindly for the knife. I swear a god or two was on my side because my hand landed right on its base. I grabbed the handle and drove it into his arm with every ounce of energy I had left.

He screeched in pain and flew off me, curling around his arm. Then he lunged for me, getting one good punch in at my mouth. I rolled away, realizing if I didn’t get out of here now, I’d be done. He had the weapon in his arm. He had the upper hand again.

He hobbled toward me as I got to my feet to run, and just when I thought it was do or die, a loud crash sounded behind me.

I turned to see him crumble to the floor and my mother standing over him with shattered glass all around.

“Well, my Yue Lao vase was good for something. I knew he didn’t want you marrying this abomination of a man.”

I choked back a sob. “Mom!”

“Mikka!” She mimicked my tone with a deadpan face and then stretched her arms out for me to run into them. “I called the cops. They should be here…” She trailed off as the red and blue lights pulled up.

“Are you okay?” I whispered as I hugged her.

“He tied me up in the worst knot known to man. You’d think he would have studied a good one before he tried this kidnapping. But I always knew he was a lazy bum.”

I laughed and then cried in her arms. When I glanced up at her, tears were streaming down her face too.

My mother held me up as the cops asked questions, and we promised we would be going to the station to file a report. They cuffed Dougie and led him away. He had the audacity to apologize.

My mother didn’t give me a chance to respond. “Get help. And don’t come around us again. I pay money to the mob and I’ll pay them to kill you.”

Dougie’s eyes widened, along with the cops’ that were holding his arm.

“What? This is a porn shop. Not a church. Don’t bother us.”

“Ma’am . . .” The cop hesitated as my mother stared him down, and then he shook his head and led Dougie away.

We stared out at the police car in silence. When I glanced at her, she still had tears in her eyes but they weren’t overflowing anymore.

My mother was strong. Weakness couldn’t replace a way in her. And maybe she’d raised me to be the same.

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