Her parents were getting on her nerves. She was going to miss them when they were gone, but right now she could not wait till they were gone. Then she would have the place to herself.

The huge five-bedroom, six-bathroom, three-level home. She was planning on lots of renovations, to modernize the house that her parents had not touched much since they bought the place twenty-three years ago. The first thing was her father's man-cave. That had to go. She could be lame and make it to a she-cave, but she had bigger plans.

She was also redoing her parent's master bedroom to her liking and then she would take that room. They had the best closet space. Her mother had a separate walk-in closet the size of some people's bedroom. Her father's walk-in closest was smaller but still a nice sized closet. The master bathroom was going to get everything updated, tub, sink, floor, shower. Her parents would not recognize it.

She was only doing minor changes to the rest of the house unless she changed her mind. Right now she was focusing on helping her parents with the move.

"You know, we should have a big party to celebrate. Our going away...and your birthday," her mother said as they went through the outside shed to clear old remnants of her childhood. Bikes, dolls, dollhouses, and lots of board games. Her mother had not thrown out a thing.

"Mom, no, just no."

"Why not? We'll be all the way in Arizona and I won't get to see my friends maybe for months."

Her mother did have lots of friends, thanks to her large sorority.

"If you're going to have a party then, don't include my birthday in it. I don't want to do anything."

"But mope around the house like you have been the past few weeks?"

"He-ey! Look, mom, Shay's old sewing machine," she said, trying to change the subject. "You think she wants this? Maybe it still works and she wants to give it to Dahlia?"

"Little girl, you're not slick," her mother said. "And you girls should keep your things, it's memories."

"It's junk mom. Who plays board games anymore when there are phones and tablets?"

"You young people," her mother said. "We have to donate all these things to Goodwill then. You girls kept everything in good condition. Dolls like new."

She picked up a Black Barbie doll, looking like she was ready to hit the runway. That's what she made the dolls do. She would roll out tissue on the floor and make a runway and strut her dolls across it, complete with commentary. Then she would dress up in her mother's dresses, and strut down the hall like she was in a show, complete with little poses as if someone was taking pictures of her.

She rubbed the doll's hair and thought of Symone, always wanting her to play dolls with her and fix the doll's hair.

Why did she miss those girls as much as she missed him?

"You okay?" her mother asked her.

She brushed away a tear. "I know who would love these dolls. Symone."

Her mother smiled at her. "True. Why don't you call Hook and offer them to her."

"No mom, I'm not calling him."

"And why not? "

"He dumped me. He doesn't want me. What am I supposed to do? Go crying back to him. It'll just keep happening over and over again. I just need to be alone and focus on myself. That's it, that's all."

"Hmmm," her mother simply said and went back to going through boxes.

She did not know what that meant, but she was going to get over Hook. That's all there was to it. She did not want to immediately find someone new, she wanted to spend time alone, reflecting, healing, figuring out why she wrecked so many relationships. She knew she was to fault for Matthew, for Hook. With Russell, he was one of the men that fucked with her head, but she did not blame him.

She blamed whatever the hell happened to her that her parents did not want her to know about.

"Mom..." Was now a good time to ask the question she always wanted to ask? "When I was little, very little, something happened to me...but I don't remember."

"What do you mean?"

"Mom, come on, you guys put me in therapy since I can remember. I feel like there had to be something. That young."

"Well, I'm sure you can talk about it with your therapist. When's your next session?"

"I haven't been in months."

"Why Angel? There doesn't have to be something wrong with you to go speak to a professional. If you have any thoughts or issues-"

"Mom, I just want to know what happened! Something did! I'm not crazy. There was a man, but I don't remember anything else."

"Oh Jesus," her mother said, hand on her chest. "Angel, we are not going to talk about this. Are you done? I'm done. I'm going back in the house."

Her mother just stopped and walked away from her. Leaving her feeling anxious, confused, but more determined to find out more. Her parents were leaving soon and if she never got it out of them now, she never would.

She headed to the house and looked around for her mother. She found her crying in her bedroom. Obviously, their discussion got her riled up. She left her mother and headed downstairs to find her father.

Of course, he was in the man-cave, sitting in front of the television watching whatever sports, cheering loudly with no one else there.

"Hey, dad."

"Hey, Angelface. Coming to watch the game with your old man?"

"You know I could care less about whatever that is you're watching," she said but sat beside her father. "Can I just sit here with you?"

"You want something?"

"What? No," she said with a laugh. "Just hanging with my father who will be gone soon." She laid her head on her father's shoulder.

"Something is up, what is it?"

If she set her mother off to a cryfest, what would she do to her father by mentioning this childhood trauma? She felt like the only way for her to heal and move on from it was to know exactly what it is. If she was going to need more therapy after knowing, then she would get more therapy.

"Daddy, who is Perry?"

She felt her father stiffen at the name. He grabbed the remote and muted the TV.

"Why are you asking me that?"

"Because I remember him, but I don't remember what happened."

"And I'm thankful that you don't," he said. "Angel, all you need to know is something bad happened and that's that."

"But dad, who is he? What happened? Is that why I'm so...so...I don't know, easily fucked over by men."

"Honey!"

"I'm sorry dad. I didn't mean...I mean, I did mean it! My professor fucked with my head dad. I didn't think any man would love me, by the time I was in college. He saw that weakness in me and preyed on it. He controlled me, made me do things...he never let me go, even after I married Matthew. And then Matthew controlled me. But I thought it was okay because that's what I'm supposed to do."

"Honey, I showed you what a good man should be. How I treated your mother, you girls, with respect."

"Love from my father is not the same thing as love from a man. That's what I wanted. And I didn't know how that felt, until..."

"Hook."

"Well, yeah. He wasn't like the others. He opened my eyes to what a real man who loved me should be. Like you," she said. "But I messed things up with him."

"I'm sure it wasn't all you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean Hook's not perfect. I like him and all, but he's not perfect. His childhood, what he overcame, I think he's not over that. I'm no psychologist, just my opinion from getting to know him."

"Yes, he brings up what happened to his parents a lot," she said. "Least he remembers. Vividly. Why can't I?"

"I do...and I wish it could be erased from my memory."

"Daddy, please tell me," she said, holding his hands. "I will be okay. I think it will help me."

Her father shook his head. "You were so little, Angel. Three years old. I thought...I thought you would be...so messed up."

"What happened?'

"Perry is my brother. Was. He died five years ago, thank God."

She bit her lip. She thought her parents were only children. This was the first time hearing otherwise. Was he married? Did she have an aunt and cousins?

"What happened to him?"

"What he did to you...the reason I never spoke to him again."

"Wait, what? My uncle did something to me?"

"I walked into your bedroom. My brother...and my baby girl. He molested you...and I would do anything to take it back and protect you." Her father broke down in tears. She had never, ever seen her father cry. She wrapped her arms around her father and held him.

"Daddy, I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry I let that man into our lives. My own flesh and blood. I wanted to kill him."

She could not even cry. Even knowing, she felt nothing. She thankfully had no memories, and nothing her father said triggered anything. Maybe with more therapy or hypnosis, but she didn't want to see images. Knowing what had happened was enough.

"Thanks for telling me. I needed to know. However bad, it's a part of me, and look, I survived. I'm fine. I mean, fine-ish."

"Yes you are," he said, kissing the top of her head. "I'm still here to protect you, even miles away, you know that, right?"

"I know."

"I really thought Hook would be the man to take over protecting you."

"Dad!"

"What? I liked him. And I just don't feel right leaving you all alone in this house. Maybe move in with your sister and-"

"Dad! No! I really can take care of myself. There is an alarm system in the house. I'm getting my gun permit and taking lessons. I'm no weak little chick dad, you taught me better than that." She hugged her father. "I love you for being the best dad in the world."

"Then as the best dad in the world, I'll tell you this," Her father held her hands. "When you're ready, I want you to work things out with Hook. Whatever it is that happened between you two is fixable, with some work on both sides."

She let out a sigh. Was she ever going to get over that man?

A/N: I think Angel knowing what happened to her will help in some of her issues. But that takes time, it won't magically happen overnight.

XOXO
Kimberly