Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
She paused to talk to Jane for a few minutes, then headed for the kitchen. Inside the large, homey-looking room, Cara found the person she’d come to see. Daniella was by herself preparing dinner.
“Hi,” Cara said, not wanting to startle her.
“Hi!” The younger woman’s sky-blue eyes lit up as she met Cara’s gaze. “You came!”
“I said I would.” Cara hopped up onto a stool near where Daniella was chopping peppers. “Where is everyone?” Cara knew the house had a few other women living there too.
“Lindsay’s throwing her wash into the dryer, and Darla had a headache, so she’s lying down. I hope I’m not taking you away from anything important,” Daniella said, as she always did when Cara came over. She glanced at Cara with a shy smile.
“Nope. No place else to be,” Cara said, and she picked up a knife and started helping Daniella by cleaning and cutting up carrots for the stir-fry she was obviously making.
For just this reason, Cara hadn’t changed into the dressier clothes she’d wear later to Joe’s. She wanted Daniella to believe she had no place better to be. And the truth was, Cara wasn’t in any rush. As long as Daniella wanted to talk or needed an ear.
“How have you been the last few days?” Cara asked as she sliced.
Daniella had been there for only a week, and she was very much a work in progress—someone who intuitively knew she had to get out of an abusive situation but had a hard time believing that the emotional and verbal harm her ex-boyfriend inflicted would escalate into physical violence. It was often hardest to convince women that words and emotional battering did as much damage as a fist, or more.
“Not bad. It’s hard being cut off from everyone back home, though.” Daniella glanced at Cara, her long brown hair obscuring the side of her face.
“You haven’t called anyone, have you?” Cara asked, aware of the catch in the other woman’s voice.
“No. But I’ve thought about it,” she admitted, dropping her knife to the counter.
Cara placed her hand over Daniella’s. “It’s hard in the beginning. All the women who’ve been here say the same thing, but once you make a plan, once you start looking forward to a healthy future, it’s going to be worth it.”
She blew out a shaky breath. “I hope so.”
“I know so. What are you thinking? Have you and Belinda talked about possibilities?” Cara asked.
Daniella nodded. “I still have my paralegal license, but I haven’t worked in two years.”
No, as Cara knew, she’d stayed home because her boyfriend wanted her at his beck and call, and at first things had been great. She’d felt needed and wanted. Then slowly he’d begun isolating her from not just old coworkers, but friends, then family. Once he was the sole person in her life, his anger at little things showed itself more often. Which was how Cara met her the first time, after the neighbors called about the noise next door. Ultimately, after her now-ex raised his hand and slapped her once, Cara persuaded her to leave. But Daniella wasn’t sure of her decision because she was so fragile and alone.
“All you need to do is brush up on your skills, maybe take a refresher course. Belinda has contacts everywhere. You can move out of state—”
“But my family is here,” she said, tears shimmering in her eyes.
Cara drew a deep breath, understanding the need to be around family and friends. “I was going to say, or you can take out the restraining order you haven’t wanted to get and look for a more local job. Nothing too close to your ex, but somewhere nearby.” She squeezed the other woman’s hand. “The good news is you don’t need to make any decisions right now.”
“I know. But I’m not smart enough to—”
“Hey! None of that,” Cara said, more harshly than she meant to. Nothing angered her more than the insidious way some men managed to invade a woman’s mind and mess with her self-esteem.
Was it personal for her? Yes. Her own father had done his share of that both to her and to Cara’s mother, using his drinking as an excuse. Cara had learned early how to stay out of the house for as long as possible, getting involved in sports and after-school activities. When she wasn’t doing school-related things, she’d hide out at her friend Melissa’s house. Luckily for her, Melissa’s mom didn’t mind. But Cara hated leaving her own mom at home, and as a teen she’d been overwhelmed with guilt for all the hours she spent out of the house. As an adult, Cara understood that her mother made her own decisions—but understanding and accepting were two different things. In other words, the guilt remained. Melissa, meanwhile, had moved out of state, but they’d stayed in touch.