Less than Perfect by S. J. Evans (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

sorry. I can’t imagine what you must be going through right now, and I only wish I could do something more. I wish I could help you, sweetheart. What he did to you was unforgiveable. And I’m terribly sorry I let it happen.”
At her mother’s words, Skye trembled, gulping down her own sobs. Images of the Johnny were scattered throughout her mind, replaying the many different times he’d abused her, including little from the night before. She couldn’t help the stray tears that slid down her cheeks as little forms of her misery, nor could she bear the pain that pierced her heart when she thought of her mom blaming herself. No matter how much she did blame her mother for inviting Johnny into their lives, she couldn’t blame her for what Johnny had done to her. It wasn’t Leah’s fault, but Johnny’s. He was the one who stole away Skye’s freedom; no one else had. And she kept it from her mother to save her. She’d given Leah no reason not to trust Johnny, and neither had he—until the night before, that is.
Turning towards her mother, she let herself fall against the bed so that she lay beside Leah’s head, running her fingers through Leah’s dark hair. She hushed her, trying to cope herself with the dark feelings that burdened her heart. She hated seeing her mom grieving in pain. It ripped at her tainted soul until there was nothing left but grief.
“Don’t be sorry, Mom,” she whispered, too afraid to find her voice. “You couldn’t have known he was going to hurt me. No one ever gave you reason to believe he would do what he did. So, please, don’t blame yourself. You did nothing wrong. He did. It was all him.”
Leah looked up at Skye, frowning, as tears trickled down her face. “I should have known Skye. I’m your mother. I should have known that something was off between you two. Only, instead, I let my stupid feelings towards that man cloud my better judgment. And now you’re hurt, again. And I—I’m just so sorry, sweetie.” Sobs broke out again, her body shaking erratically against the bedding.
“You are my mother,” started Skye, grabbing Leah’s hand in hers, “but that doesn’t mean you should have known something was wrong. Mom, I know it must be hard for you, seeing as how you’re my mother and you care about my wellbeing, but you can’t blame yourself for all that’s happened. Johnny is a twisted, sick man. He’s a betraying, deceitful, liar, with low self-esteem. And it was he

who hurt me, he

who abused me and betrayed us both. You and I both know he

is the one responsible, neither of us. So there’s no need for either of us to blame ourselves. He did the wrong.”
The room went silent, Leah’s sobs subsiding as she must have been taking in Skye’s words. Skye could feel the pounding in her head, along with a tingly pain that pierced deep inside. Something took a tight grip on her heart, squeezing it like a juicer, and she felt a pang of utter strength beckon her away from Leah, back into a sitting position. She held her mother’s hand in hers tightly, not once letting it go, and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“Please, let this go, Mom,” she pleaded. She felt warmth spread throughout her body, like warm water rushing through her veins, and suddenly wanted to brave telling Leah everything. She needed not to hold anything back any longer; part of her was free from Johnny, she didn’t need to protect anyone anymore.
“It wasn’t your fault in any way, and you couldn’t have done anything to stop him. Truth is—as I’m sure you don’t know—Johnny has been abusing me since shortly after you married him. It started out small, whenever I did things he didn’t like he’d hit me or push me around, but as time carried on he got a little more aggressive. And this year, he grew much, much worse. He became more possessive of me, always telling me what was ‘best for me’, and started to tear me down, piece by piece. His aggression became worse with each passing day and, in the past couple of months, he’s hurt me more times than I can keep record. He was the reason I broke my ribs; he was the reason I went to the hospital three months ago with ‘stomach problems’; he was the reason for all the times I told you I was okay when in reality I was not; he is the reason I’m afraid.
He told me that everything he did to me had to be kept a secret or he would hurt all those that I loved, particularly you. He convinced me that it would be better to hide the secret and take the pain than to spill it and face far worse problems. Johnny knew how to control me, Mom. He’s been doing it for a long time now. So when he overheard me and Rachel talking about him a couple days ago, and walked in on my miserable attempt to tell you everything the next day, I guess it pushed him over the edge. And that’s why he…that’s why...”—she let out a long, deep breath—“That’s why he tried to rape me.”
“He said that I needed to be ‘punished’ for spilling our secret. And he saw forcing himself into me, making me ‘his’, as my punishment. He’d warned me before, but I didn’t want to believe it. I’d fought him, struggling with everything I had, while he told me he couldn’t stop himself because he ‘loved

’ me. I still don’t understand why he did it, everything, but something tells me that the main reason he abused me for so long was because he wanted to be sure he had power over me; he wanted to be in control of me, whether by my fear or weakness, so that he could one day steal me away from you. I think he thought that if I feared him enough I would willingly give myself away to him. But I couldn’t ever do that. And all I want now is for him and the memories to disappear, out of our lives for good, so that we can really be a family again, just you and me.”
After telling Leah their story—Johnny and hers—she collapsed on the bed, sinking against the mattress and pillow. Tears were streaming down her face, crystals of mixed emotions—sadness, fear, anger—just to name a few. Her head ached from stress. She couldn’t believe she’d actually told Leah the secret she’d tried so hard to keep hidden for so long. In one way she felt relieved to have told Leah, but in another, she was worried how her mother would take it all.
Giving a quick glance in her direction, she stifled a sob. Leah knelt beside the bed, with a stunned expression, completely speechless. She knew that look; it was Leah’s way of hiding all her emotions inside, afraid they would come out wrong and hurt someone else. She’d given it to her daughter many times before, whenever something went wrong and she didn’t know how to handle the situation.
“Mom?” Skye whispered, unsure of her own voice. It was then when she figured the information she’d given Leah was too much to handle all at once, and she regretted it. The healing process would be a lot harder than she’d thought—for both of them.
Looking at her daughter with sad eyes, Leah pushed Skye on the shoulder lightly and stood. She shivered, bitter sobs on the brink of her lips, and crawled into the bed beside Skye. They stayed there, in cold silence, for minutes that felt like hours.
Eventually, Leah gained enough courage to speak. “I’m sorry, Skye,” she said, slowly. Her voice was raspy and quiet, sobs caught in her throat. “I just can’t believe he did all that to you. I don’t know what to say, sweetie. I wish you would’ve told me. You didn’t deserve to go through any of that.”
“It’s okay, Mom, I know. I wish I would have done things differently, but the thing is, I didn’t. So now we have to move on, get over the past and survive the future. I don’t want you to feel any pain for what happened to me. I’ve suffered enough pain for the both of us already. There’s no need for more.”
“But Skye, I let this happen to you,” Leah whispered. “I should have taken better care of you. You’re my daughter. I’m responsible.”
“I don’t blame you, Mom,” Skye added quietly. “You have taken care of me just fine. You couldn’t have known I was in trouble because I never gave you reason to think I was. And there’s no possible way you’re responsible. Johnny is responsible. He

did everything to me. He

tricked you. He

made this happen. You had nothing to do with it.”
More silence filled the warm air, heavy and oppressive.
“I never really asked you about him,” Leah finally said. “I should have made sure you were alright. I mean, you hurt yourself Skye—that was a sign. I should’ve followed up to it better.”
“I hurt myself because of what Bryan

did to me,” Skye corrected. She turned herself so that she was looking at Leah, holding her gaze. Touching her face, she managed a small smile. “Mom, stop blaming yourself, please. I want you to trust me when I tell you that it wasn’t your fault. It never was your fault, alright? Please, just try to forget it ever happened? I want us to move on, no, I need

us to move on. It’s the only way we’ll ever forgive ourselves for what happened.”
“I’ll trust you Skye, I really will. But I want you to promise me, promise me

, that you’ll come to me if you’re ever in trouble. I don’t want you to get hurt like you’ve been ever, ever

again. And in return, I promise to be a better mother to you.”
“You’ve always been a good mother to me,” Skye told Leah in confidence. “And I’ll always love you the same way I always have: with all my heart. Don’t worry about me, Mom, I promise to come to you if