That's why at night I waited until after I helped her change into her pajamas, after I read her a bed time story, after I tucked her in and kissed her forehead, after I slowly closed her door and crept down the hall, and after I made my way outside to the patio, to sob uncontrollably into my hands.
Georgia had scars.
Lots of scars.
Some deeper than mine.
Scars from the bullet spray, scars from the multiple surgeries to remove what shrapnel they could. Scars resembling white and red paint splatter across her ribcage from armpit to waist on her left side.
I'd failed her, I'd failed my baby girl, and now she was going to have to live with the exact same fate I never wanted for her.
All this on top of Jake being arrested for Owen's murder, and I was again seeking solace in my old hoodie. I tried to call on the numbness but I couldn't reach the place where I couldn't exist anymore. Georgia and Jake had made it impossible for me to retreat completely, but I was trying, because thinking about Jake being locked a way for life or put to death for that bastard’s murder made my stomach twist. Because I'd encouraged him to do it.
It would have all been my fault.
"Baby, not again," Jake said, coming up from behind me, his hand on my shoulder. He knew my reaction every time I saw her scars and where I went to hide my reaction from her.
He'd noticed the change in me. I saw it in the way he was more carful around me, practically walking on egg shells, choosing his words more carefully.
I hated it. But I didn't know how to get back to how I was, and with all that was going on inside of me, I didn't know if I wanted to.
"I can't help it." I wiped the tears from under my eyes and sniffled. "I failed her Jake. She is going to look in the mirror every single day and remember that horrible moment for the rest of her life. She'll remember how scared she was. She'll remember how mommy couldn't stop it from happening to her."
"Bee, she's so young. She sees the head shrinker. He says she will be fine. She barely remembers anything at all, and he thinks that even with a fuck up like me as her father that she is going to be okay," Jake assured me, trying to make me laugh as always.
"Yeah, but what about later? What about when one day if she does remember everything? What then? I don't want her to relive that pain every single day of her life."
"Then we will deal with it, Bee. We make sure she knows how much she is loved and when and if she freaks the fuck out, we will again remind her of how much she is loved, and if it gets worse, we will love her even fucking harder. The only bad thing that is ever going to happen to Georgia again is that she might suffocate under all our love." Jake circled my chair and crouched down in front of me. "It's all we can do," he said softly, his hands on my knees. He tilted my chin up so we were eye to eye. "What's this really about, Bee?"
I sighed. "She deserves better than me as her mom."
"That’s a fucking cop out, and you know it. All parents are fucked up. We are just fucked up in a different kind of way. Now spill it, woman," he demanded. "Tell me what is going on in that beautiful red head of yours."
"I still see them." I blurted.
"Still see what?"
"I still see my scars. Every day. Even under all the tattoos, I still see right past the colors and right to the marks. Every single fucking day of my life, I'm reminded of what happened, what that bitch did, and even if it's just for a minute, I remember what it felt like." My eyes started to water, blurring my vision. "I remember the hurt. I feel it all over again. I don't want to feel it anymore."
Jake softly ran his fingertips across the largest scar that started on my shoulder and slowly traced it down to my elbow and back up again. His go-to way to way of comforting me. "I can't imagine how badly it hurt, Bee."
"Not there," I said.
"No?"
"No," I took his hand and placed it over my heart. "Here. It hurts here."
Jake scooped me up like I weighed nothing and sat back down in the chair, arranging me on his lap like an infant, cradling me in his arms and holding me tightly to his chest.
"I don't want your heart to hurt. Tell me what I can do to make it better," Jake said, his voice strained.
"It hurts me that Georgia might feel like this someday."
"Her scars are still healing, baby. We will do whatever it takes to make it so she doesn't hurt. But you can't be worried about what she will or won't feel. We have to take this day by day, or you're going to make yourself crazy."