Uncovering You 9: Liberation Read Online Free PDF Page A

say softly. “Thank you for that, Jeremy.”
    He nods. “I heard him yelling right through these walls.” Jeremy motions upwards, at the ceiling. “Above this very room, from this study on the second floor. Then I heard a scream—my mother’s scream—and a loud crash.
    “I raced to her. I was not allowed in my father’s study. I burst through the doors anyway.
    “And there, I saw something that I’ve remembered my entire life. My mother was lying in a heap on the floor. One side of her face was badly swollen. The liquor cabinet had been upturned when she fell. That was the cause of the crash. A few bottles broke, soaking the rich carpet with wine as red as blood.
    “But that was not the thing that stood out. What did was the presence of my brothers. They both stood behind my father, snickering silently at the fallen woman on the floor. Laughing at their own mother.
    “They wouldn’t have dared it without my father’s permission, of course. And because he did not stop them, he gave it implicitly.
    “That was when I first felt the very real grip of true hate.
    “Seeing me run into the room, however, seemed to have restored my mother’s strength. Perhaps it was all a façade. Perhaps I was the witness the four of them needed to process what had been done.
    “My father turned away and with a curt jab of his hand sent my brothers from the room. He did not look at me or my mother. I ran straight to her. By the time I reached her side, she had already risen.
    “She took my hand and led me from the room, regal as any queen. She took me up to her loft—to the one place we shared in this house, the only place that was only hers, and by extension, partially mine. There, she told me that I mustn’t let what I saw affect my impression of my brothers or my father. She said that she’d slipped, that was all. Then, she kissed me and hugged me tight.
    “I was old enough to know that it wasn’t true. I cared enough, and was smart enough to appreciate what had really happened—as any boy who loved his mother would be.
    “But I didn’t question her. How could I? From that point on, it became our little fantasy. A lie we told each other to protect ourselves from facing the harshest truth.
    “That was not the first time my father had struck her. It certainly would not be the last. It happened again only days after, on the very same trip. I began to realize that when my mother stayed in her rooms and barred herself from us, claiming she had a migraine or wanted to spend time with her books, she was hiding the physical signs of my father’s abuse.
    “She was alone in the world. Her sons had abandoned her—those old enough to see what was going on, at least. Her husband was a monster. No.” Jeremy shakes his head. “No, that is wrong. Hugh never was a monster. I was a monster. I became a monster through my treatment of you. Hugh was simply…malicious.
    “Vernacular differences, Lilly. But ones that are quite important, I think. My father could not be a monster because he never possessed the physical traits to make him intimidating. Perhaps that was where all of his behavior began. Maybe that was the root of it. Maybe the things he did to my mother were his way of exerting his dominance.”
    Jeremy trails off. His eyes darken. “Maybe…” he says, “he and I are more alike than I ever considered before.”
    His hand tightens around the rim of the glass. I can see the muscles of his forearm strain.
    I don’t know what to say. Can I reassure him that he is not like his father? I cannot. It’s true: there are many parallels between the two men.
    But then I notice one stunning difference.
    “You loved your mother,” I say. “And she did you. I do not think the same applies to Hugh.”
    Jeremy looks surprised. Then the warmth flows back into him.
    “You’re right,” he says. “Yes, Lilly. You are absolutely right.” He smiles. “Thank you for reminding me.”
    “I think you’re more worthy of that