BENEATH THE SURFACE

Chapter Twenty-Nine

ISABELLA

7 Years Ago

"You look incredible," my mother whispered as she adjusted a few of my curls, a warm smile gracing her lips as we both admired the reflection in the mirror.

I returned the smile as Sofia entered my bedroom, holding my dress in one hand and a pair of silver sparkly high heels in the other.

"Father will be back soon," I tensed as his impending return was mentioned, well aware that he would likely disapprove of the entire situation.

Tonight marked my last school dance, the grand finale of my high school years: senior prom. I hadn't initially planned on attending, feeling like I had outgrown such school events. However, I agreed to go because my sister's friend had no one else to accompany him.

"It's okay, mija," she whispered, continuing to comb through my curls. I shook my head, fully aware that when he arrived, things would no longer be okay.

While my mother assisted me in putting on my dress, the sound of the front door opening suddenly startled me, causing me to stumble slightly in the long gown.

"I'll be back," she reassured me, leaving my sister and me alone in my bedroom, well aware of what was coming.

We sat beside each other, holding hands, patiently waiting. Suddenly, a loud smack echoed from the hallway, causing us both to jump.

Sofia placed her hands over my ears, attempting to shield me from the cries of my mother, but the haunting sounds would forever be etched in my mind.

Another smack, followed by another agonizing cry from my mother pierced the air. The sound of her suffering was unbearable.

"Make it stop," I whispered through tears, my anguish evident as droplets fell onto my dress. "We can't," Sofia whispered back, pulling me closer to her. "You know we can't."

Years of witnessing my father's drunken homecomings and the subsequent abuse he unleashed on my innocent mother had conditioned me to never trust a man.

The way he could physically assault her, delivering blows and slamming her to the ground, only to climb into bed with her the same night, seemingly unburdened by the horrible things he had been doing for so long, haunted my thoughts incessantly.

My mother deserved better. My sister and I deserved better than the torment we had endured for so long.

4 Months Ago

Returning home from dinner, I hastened to my room to try on the new necklace my mother had purchased for me. It was a petite crystal pendant suspended from a modest black rope, adorning my neck with elegance.

I placed my hand over it, feeling as though no matter where I went, my mother would be right there with me, and it was the most comforting sensation in the world.

"David, you're drunk," I heard my mother's voice echo down the hall, and I knew all too well what was about to happen.

Climbing into bed, I buried my head beneath my pillow and closed my eyes, seeking refuge in my imaginary happy place—a world where my mother no longer endured the suffering inflicted by my father's hand.

I felt useless in these situations. At twenty-four, I was still living with my parents, not because I wanted to, but because I was too afraid to leave my mother behind on her own, as my sister had done. I understood that Sofia did what was best for her, but I couldn't imagine abandoning my mother's side.

"Stop hurting her," I whispered into my pillow.

Another smack.

"Please stop," I pleaded as though my father could hear me.

Smack.

"Stop hurting her!" I suddenly rose from my bed, my voice ringing out loudly and clearly. The commotion outside my door came to a sudden halt as I swung it open, peering down the hallway.

Approaching my mother and father cautiously, I extended my hands to help my mother up from the ground. Swallowing hard, I spoke firmly, "I'm not a child anymore. I can't keep allowing you to put her through this."

Suddenly, a stinging sensation surged across my cheek, and as I instinctively placed my hand over it, the horrifying reality dawned on me. He had hit me.

My father, the man who was supposed to exemplify how a man should love and treat me, the one who was meant to protect and keep me safe from the world's hardships, had just hit me.

Present

My mother's eyes sparkled with delight as Sofia recounted the story of how I had caught her and Liam on my couch just the night before. Witnessing my mother without my father felt like seeing the sun emerge after a storm. She was the rainbow in his dark cloud, a rainbow he didn't deserve.

Asher sat beside me on the couch, his attention entirely absorbed by something on his phone. Even though I hadn't asked, it was evident that his entire demeanor had shifted since learning about the ball invitation.

Unable to contain my curiosity, I turned back to my mother and asked, "Who exactly invited us to the ball?" My hand fidgeted with the small pendant around my neck as I waited anxiously for her response.

"Cecilia," she replied, setting her glass of water on the table. Asher's attention immediately shifted from his phone to our conversation.

"My mother?" Asher sounded almost surprised that his mother had extended the invitation. I couldn't help but hope that his reaction wasn't due to any reluctance about us being there, especially me.

My mother leaned forward, her hand resting on top of Asher's. "I knew I saw the similarities," she said with a smile. "Your mother and I go way back. We were practically inseparable in our teen years, that is until I met my husband." Her gaze briefly flicked to me before returning to Asher.

"Well, I'm glad you guys are coming," Asher said with a brief smile before rising from the couch. "I have some business to attend to. Excuse me." He gave me a quick glance before heading to the door. "I'll call you," he assured me. I nodded, not wanting to detain him any further.