âAre you ready?â Eli asks me when we pull up in the driveway of my parentâs house. We went to school in his familyâs car this morning so I could get most of my stuff out of my old home already, considering I wonât need it there anymore. I mean, Iâm wearing Elijaâs shirt and underwear paired with my jeans from yesterday.
Not going to lie, his boxershorts are mad comfortable but thatâs beside the point.
Elija protested that there was no flower on me until I told him Iâm wearing my bra from yesterday. Then he grinned boyishly and told me how good I looked in his shirt.
But back to now.
We get out of the car and stop again at the front door. Iâm really doing this. Damn, am I really doing this? What if I didnât see this through? I havenât even started looking for jobs yet and how much of my trust fund will I have to use up for this?
Maybe I shouldnât be doing this.
A warm hand settles on the nape of my neck, massaging me slightly. âYouâre fine, Florence. I wonât let anyone hurt you,â Elija tells me.
âRight. Yeah, youâre right. Theyâre probably not home anyway. Itâs just the nerves, you know.â I chuckle, trying to shake everything off.
âTake your time,â my boyfriend tells me calmly.
âI love you,â I say, turning my neck to look at him. I canât believe how lucky I got.
Elija smiles. âI love you.â
With one deep breath, I unlock the door and push it open. Stepping inside, Iâm greeted by someone calling my name.
âFlorence? Oh, you finally made it home! Care to explain where youâve been?â my mother asks, rounding the corner so sheâs standing in front of me. Sheâs wearing the expression that used to scare the flip out of me as a child. The one where she looks at you like you did something wrong, like youâre something less than her. Now it only makes me angry.
Manipulative woman.
âOh, I should have guessed it would be you she ran off with,â she adds, only now noticing Eli.
I can feel him tense beneath my touch but he doesnât say anything and doesnât move a single muscle. Heâs here in case I need him, a silent reminder that Iâm not alone and that I can do this. That I donât need my parents and all the pain having them in my life includes.
âIâm here to get my things and leave. Please get out of my way,â I tell her, my polite façade in place. Iâm mocking her. Iâm mocking the tyrant that has been making me feel bad about myself all my life and it feels so damn nice.
That feeling quickly dies when my father joins us in the corridor. My façade slips and itâs all I can do not to back away.
Elija squeezes my shoulder encouragingly. I focus on that. On him and my goals. Mostly, I repeat to myself that Iâm safe and finally straighten my spine, meeting my fatherâs gaze defiantly. Iâm done cowering.
âLook whoâs back,â my dad says slowly, looking at Elija. âLeave, boy, I have some things to discuss with my daughter. Family things, you know. Very important.â
I hate the chill that settles over me at the sheer sound of his voice. So much power. He and my mother still have so much power over me and Iâm sick of it.
âHeâs not going anywhere and thereâs nothing to discuss. Like I already told your wife, Iâm only here to get my things,â I tell them.
âOh? And may I ask what you need your things for?â my mother asks.
âYou may. Itâs like this, Iâm moving out. Iâm done with you two taking your shit out on me like Iâm your personal punching bag. Iâm leaving and youâll be rid of me for good,â I say, my voice as strong as steel.
âWhat? Donât be silly, girl. You canât just leave. Where would you even go? To live with him? Please, Iâve seen the shoebox his family lives in. This is just the result of one of your moods, typical teenager,â my mother mutters.
Oh, but she doesnât realize that the last thing she wants to do is disrespect my boy around me. Not when thereâs a lifetime of anger towards her bottled up inside of me.
I take a step towards her, staring her down.
âWhere I go and what Iâll do is none of your business. Anywhere is better than here. And just to be very clear, Iâd sooner live under a bridge with Elija and his family than in a palace with you two. At least they know how to be decent human beings. More than decent, but thatâs why youâre so jealous, isnât it.â I take my time looking her down and back up once, disgusted by what I see. âYouâre dead to me,â I tell her, my voice venomous. Then I look at my dad. âBoth of you.â
My parents are stunned silent and I use the opportunity to push past them, ignoring the way my skin scorches where it touches my father. I go into my room and lock the door as soon as Elija is in. Then I release a breath and let my shoulders slump.
Elijaâs in front of me in a beat, wrapping his arms around me tightly. âYouâre okay. You can be so proud of yourself,â he mumbles against my skin.
Then we pack up my things and leave out the window. I donât care if it seems cowardly, I donât have anything more to say to my parents.
I mostly took my clothes, iPad, and some books I havenât read before with me along with some toiletries and other essentials. Leaving the rest behind felt like abandoning a part of myself but itâs just for now. I plan on getting everything else once the guys and I have our place. I just hope my parents wonât do anything about it in the meantime.
On our way to Elijaâs home, I cry silently. He doesnât say anything and neither do I. He simply keeps one hand on my thigh and offers his silent support.
I guess this is really happening. Now weâll just have to look for our new home, I have to find a job and finish school. Easy, right?