This chapter is dedicated to TheWriterD -- her many ideas not only shaped parts of this story but helped me to get to this point. Thanks for all your support over the years :)

16 – Moving On

With a sigh, I pull the car into a parking space directly in front of the office building where I have my appointment at ten am. Cutting the engine, I turn to Rena with a grimace. "And you are absolutely sure this is a good idea?"

"Yes. He's a good listener and you'll feel better afterward."

I crook my head to catch a better glimpse of the window on the fourth floor. As long as he doesn't file a report, it can do no harm.

I grimace again. "Okay, let's do this."

"I'll be in the coffee shop, waiting for you."

I nod, watching her dart across the street after she gets out of the car. At least she is doing better. It took a couple of weeks of probing before she broke down and admitted what had been wrong with her in the emergency room that night. Apparently, that asshole boyfriend had beaten her so badly one night that she had a miscarriage. They had taken her to the same hospital and that emergency room had flooded her with all those terrible memories.

Ironic that we both lost a child at the hands of our loved ones, an experience we can never tell anyone—or at least to most people. After she had confided in me, I spilled my guts about my abortion and we both cried on each other's shoulders for hours.

Another long sigh and I realize I'm just prolonging the inevitable. I get out of the car. My heart pounds heavily in my chest on the way up in the elevator and by the time I enter the office, my stomach is in knots.

The receptionist's smile manages to calm me down a little. "Can I help you?"

"My name is Patrice Forrester. I have an appointment with Doctor Sullivan at ten."

"Oh, yes, I got you right here." She checks my name off in her appointment book. "Please have a seat. Doctor Sullivan will be right with you."

The wait is nerve wrecking. Though I arrived only five minutes early to give me less of an opportunity to chicken out, the seconds dwindle down as if the longer hand on the clock has been glued on the eleven number. Finally, the door opens and a woman steps out. Her eyes are red and puffy and she turns quickly to the receptionist when she catches me starting. Fuck. Why am I doing this to myself? I should have never agreed to this appointment.

Dr. Sullivan's smile is a nuance colder than that of his receptionist, but for that more determined. "Hello, Patrice. Why don't we get started?"

My gaze flicks to the door. Last chance to get the hell out of here. I suck in a deep breath to fight the urge to run. I've avoided my problems for far too long as it is. It's time to face those inner demons.

I follow him into the office and take the same seat on the couch that I occupied during my earlier visits. The office hasn't changed much, just a newer picture of his kids has replaced the old screensaver on his computer screen. A boy and a girl—Rena said their names are Mitch and Sabrina. He is very light for a mixed child with rusty brown curls while she must have taken after her mom. Her complexion is almost as dark as mine.

"So, Patrice, I actually booked you in for a double since I feel we got a lot of ground to cover."

I tear my eyes of the photograph. "I'm not sure if I brought enough cash." Since Marcus isn't supposed to know, I can't use my credit card.

"Don't worry about money. You can pay me whenever."

"And all this is totally confidential, right?" The last thing I need is a call to my dad on my last day in Chicago.

"This isn't a court ordered appointment like before and you are over eighteen, so everything you tell me is fully covered under the doctor patient privilege. If I divulge anything to anyone, I'd lose my license."

"Okay." I purse my lips, uncertain where to start.

"Do you want me to ask you a few questions to get the ball rolling?"

I smile. "As long as it's not any of that believing in happy endings crap."

"Deal."

Afterward, I'm surprised how easy it is to just let it all out. My mouth keeps moving and with every breath, some of the pressure is taken off my chest. At some point, I start crying and he pushes a box of tissues my way. He lets me talk for the most part, only intervening when my words halt. I don't hold back—my heart and soul demanding to get rid of all this garbage and his willingness to listen is like a magnet for my words.

Silence falls over the room when I end with the fight between Kerry and Marcus.

"And since then, your dad hasn't touched you or your brother and sister?"

"No. He has even been nicer to my mom. I honestly think he's afraid of what Kerry might do. She has been stopping by my school twice a week like clockwork to check how things are going at home, and she promised me she will continue to check on Alyssa and Lamar after I'm gone off to college."

"And this summer?"

"My mom has rented a cottage up north to get out of the house. She'll take Lamar and Alyssa with her. Otherwise, I might not have gone to Purdue until September."

"And when are you leaving?"

"Tonight, right after graduation."

His face relaxes. "Good. Giving your dad some space might be good for him." He smiles, his eyes drilling. "Now, Patrice, why are you really here?"

I frown. "I just wanted to talk to someone."

"That's all?"

"Yeah." I mean, what else is there to do.

His smile turns crooked. "I know I promised I wouldn't ask you this, but what's your take now on happy endings?"

I almost roll my eyes at him. "Obviously, I don't believe in them."

"And why is that?"

"It's stupid."

"And why is it stupid?"

I need a second to sort out my scrambling thoughts. "Because true love doesn't exist. Sex is just a tool for men to feel better and satisfy their natural urges."

"You don't really believe that."

I can't hold his gaze when tears well in my eyes. "And what will happen if I meet a man like my dad? Someone who will beat the crap out of me."

"I won't lie to you, Patrice. Because you witnessed domestic violence for the majority of your life, there is a chance that you will be attracted to abusive men since we look subconsciously to our parents as role models when we choose our partner. That's why it will be especially important that you learn about the red flags."

"Like what?"

"Sudden anger, followed by long drown out apologies designed to justify his behavior, a need to control you, trying to isolate you from your friends and family, trying to manipulate you. For example, an abusive man might tell you early on what he would like you to wear and prohibits you from spending time with your friends, all under the pretext that this is what couples in love do. There are many red flags and I urge you to continue with counseling once you start Purdue. You have a lot of issue to work through and it's easier if you can find someone you trust and who knows what they are doing."

"I'll think about it."

"Do that. And before you go, I have one more question. Do you blame yourself?"

The tears choke me as I nod.

"And what are you blaming yourself for?"

"Everything." The truth is, the guilt has been persistently eating at me for a while now. It's my fault that my family is trapped in this hell. "For the first years, Marcus only stayed with my mom because of me. If I hadn't been there, my mom would have probably never married him."

"That's bullshit, Patrice, and you know it. It was your mother's choice to marry him and as far as I know, she has shown an equally poor judgment in previous relationships. The court file showed that she had several violent partners before Marcus."

"I guess."

"What else are you blaming yourself for?"

I play with my cuticle, unable to look him in the eyes. "I think I lead him on."

"And how did you do that?"

I shrug. "Flirt with him, I guess, and coming on to him."

"Is that what he told you?"

I nod. A few tears splatter on my hand and tickle as they roll down my arm.

"Blaming the victim is typical in that type of situation. It's not only designed to control you but to justify behavior."

"So you don't think it was my fault?"

"Of course not."

I'm not sure if I believe him.

"Patrice, look at me."

When I raise my head, his eyes are insistent. "You didn't do anything wrong. What your dad did was the worst you can do to a child. He used your trust and love for him and turned that against you. He took advantage of your fragile state and the control he had over your life. He knew damn well you had no place to go and was at his mercy."

"But I could have spoken up much earlier."

"You tried and your mom didn't believe you. That forced you into a corner. I mean, if your own mother doesn't believe you, who else will, right? Those confusing thoughts are only natural. Then Marcus took advantage of the situation by manipulating you. You said yourself, you felt you were pulled into all kinds of directions and just went with the flow because it was easier than to face your problems."

I nod, still not convinced.

"You were a child, Patrice. Parents are supposed to nurture you and build up your confidence and self-esteem. They are the ones who are supposed to be there for you no matter what. Marcus did the exact opposite. He crushed you in every possible way, so he could take advantage of you."

The tears fall again. "But then why does a part of me still love him? Why do I still feel he is my dad?"

"Because somewhere in your heart, there are memories of the good Marcus. It's one of the things you will have to come to terms with. People who love us and whom we love can also hurt us. It's a hard lesson to learn in life, but essential for a healthy relationship."

"So what should I do now?"

"To process this experience will require hard work and it will take time. In the end, you'll need to find a way to get closure and move forward. That's all you can do. What happened to you was terrible, but you can't allow it to define your future. If you do, you let him win."

I gaze at him through teary lashes. "And do you think I can do it?"

"Of course. You are like a phoenix, Patrice. Marcus burned you to ashes, but you are capable of rising above all this. Draw strength from this experience, so when the right guy comes along, you are ready to give him a chance."

I nod with a grimace. "Sounds like a plan."

"Then I guess we are done here." With an encouraging smile, he closes my file. "And feel free to call me anytime if you need to talk. You are not alone in this."

"I know. Rena said that, too."

"Rena is great."

"Yeah." Those last few months, she has turned into my best friend and I'm glad to have her in my life. As I rise, I can't resist asking him one more question. "Dr. Sullivan, do you believe in happy endings?"

"Yep. It's the only thing that keeps me going."

~~~~

Graduation turns into a forced affair with tons of photos in which both my mom and Marcus have their arms around my shoulders and beam into the camera as if it was their accomplishment that I got my diploma. I'm glad Rena is there for a genuine hug.

"Next year, it will be me."

With a big smile, I let go of her. "Yeah, and I'll make sure I'll be there for you."

"What are your parents' plans for the rest of the day?"

"A quick meal and then my mom will be off with Alyssa and Lamar to Lake Winneboga. I'll go home and pack the rest of my stuff, and then I'm off as well." Classes in Purdue start on Monday, which will give me the weekend to settle in. I can't wait to start college.

"Do you want me to come with, just in case?"

I glance at Marcus who is talking to my principle with his typical "hey, you could be a future voter" expression. "No, I'm good."

Rena's son Noah is going back to his grandparents in Virginia on Monday for a whole week's visit and I want her to spend as much time with him as possible before he leaves. No need for her to hold my hand.

"Okay. Text me once you get to Purdue."

"Will do."

Marcus drags us to dinner at Chuck E Cheese to appease Lamar who is whining that he doesn't want to go on a long car ride and after enduring an hour of singing waiters in animal costumes and crying toddlers, everyone is ready to go. My goodbyes with my mom are quick—she is eager to get on the road. On the way home, Marcus doesn't mutter a single word and only stares straight ahead into the traffic.

I had already packed and loaded most of my bags and boxes into my car after I got home from my counseling appointment, only my duffel with my stuff for the first night and my toiletries are missing. I'm just in the bathroom to get the final things when Marcus materializes behind me. My body stiffens when he wraps his arms around my waist.

"I'm really proud of you, Patrice. You might not have been valedictorian like you wanted but being in the top ten of your class is still really good."

"Thanks." When he makes no inclination to let go of me, I raise my eyebrows. "Would you mind?"

He starts to nibble my ear in response. "Why don't we go into the bedroom? Just once more, for old time's sake."

I wiggle in his arms to free myself. "No. Let go of me."

"Come on, Patrice. I need you right now. Everyone is against me because of you and things at work are shitty enough. You owe me this."

Doctor Sullivan's words ring in my ear like a warning. Marcus burned me already to ashes. I'm not going to let him stop me from rising again. "News flash, Dad. I don't owe you anything and if you don't let me go right this second, I'll call Kerry."

His arms drop. Man, he must really be worried about his balls. Deciding that I could buy a new toothbrush and toothpaste on the road, I escape from the bathroom. After I zip up my duffel, my eyes scan my room one final time. This should be everything.

Without bothering to say goodbye to the man who stole my childhood, I walk out the front door. Outside, my jaw clenches with determination. This is it. Tossing the duffel into the passenger seat, I get behind the wheel and start the car. As I roll down the driveway, I don't look back. This part of my life is over and I'm ready to start a new chapter. What I'll make of it will be totally up to me.

And then, for the first time since the night it happened, I breathe. 

Alrighty, we got to the end of the main book and I hope this last chapter was a good wrap-up. Sometime over the next two weeks, I will post a short Epilogue to bridge the gap between Patrice's Story and the end of Road to Recovery to merge the two time lines before heading into the conclusion of the series.

Thanks for all of you who have taken the time to read about Patrice's struggle, especially those who stuck with this story through the many delays. Your support, comments, and votes are very much appreciated and were the motivational fuel at times that kept me going. You guys are truly the best :)