Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 102708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
I needed to spill what was weighing on me—not just to anyone, but to her. My body shifted around as I abruptly looked deep into her eyes, searching for something I couldn’t place. The only thing I could see was a war raging in her stare. An internal battle took place over what was right and what was wrong. It was sitting directly in front of her this whole time.
Me.
Her serious expression captivated me in a way I had never experienced before, only adding to the plaguing feelings that were destroying our relationship.
I didn’t make her wait too long, divulging, “She left a note on the fridge that said be back in ten, Isla. That was her goodbye to us. Do you have any idea how long I waited for those ten minutes? A part of me is still waiting… and I hate that more than absolutely anything. She doesn’t deserve my forgiveness. She doesn’t even deserve my thoughts. She deserves nothing from me… and even that is too much to ask. Do you understand me? Do you understand the woman you want to bring back around? Where do you think she’s going to go? Here? In this house? The one you’ve made into a home, with us?”
She didn’t move.
She was barely breathing.
Not wanting to distract herself from what I was willingly sharing.
I didn’t let up, needing to get it all out. “You’re probably questioning everything I told you and everything I didn’t, and quite honestly, I don’t blame you. It’s a lot to unpack. It’s why I didn’t tell you to begin with. But it’s my heavy load, not yours. You have enough of your own shit without having to deal with mine too.” I paused, allowing her to catch up. “I could sit here and tell you story after story of the shit she put us through, but it’d be a waste of time… Nothing is going to change where we are today because of her choices, and I refuse to give her the benefit of the doubt. Not when I spent most of our lives raising myself and her son.”
For a moment, our life seemed still. Not filled with all these complicated indecisions of the future. I never thought I’d be living a life that appeared to be someone else’s—day in and day out.
With an intense stare, I left her speechless. Her gaze spoke volumes without having to say a word as she sat there. I welcomed the way she was gazing at me although it killed me inside. At least I felt like I was getting through to her on why we didn’t need the chaos that was our mom.
Breaking our trancelike state, I asked, “Do you understand where I’m coming from?”
She nodded. “I do.”
“So she can speak,” I teased, trying to break the tension a bit. “For a second, I thought you defaulted.”
Finally, she expressed, “I was left in a dumpster when I was a baby, Julius.”
My mouth parted, my chest caving in. Hearing her say that was salt to the wound.
“I’d like to think I was kidnapped, and my parents wouldn’t do that to me. I mean, what kind of people throw away their own kid?” Fresh tears brimmed her gaze as her bottom lip trembled. “My parents aren’t monsters, right? Only pure evil could do something like that.” She swallowed hard, and a lump formed in my throat.
“Or maybe, they got high and forgot where they left me…”
“Isla—”
“I go over and over it in my head sometimes. It’s why your music means so much to me. It’s able to quiet all that noise. You have the power to calm me. You both do…”
“What am I supposed to say to that?”
“You wanted honesty, right? I’m just trying to give it to you.”
“Isla—”
“There are so many scenarios I’ve made up throughout the years. Maybe they were secret spies and had to leave me behind… Maybe she was just a kid herself. Maybe he was too… Maybe they told her I was sick, and she thought she was doing what was best… maybe… maybe… maybe...” She peered deep into my eyes. “Do you want to live the rest of your life with maybes, Julius? Don’t you pray for closure? Not when you lay your head down at night, when you have nothing but your thoughts creeping in…” With confidence, she declared, “I know you do because we’re the same, just different font.”
“Isla—”
“I only found out a few years ago. I went snooping in my files, and you know, curiosity killed the cat.” She scoffed out a chuckle. “On the scale of cruelty, I’d say your mother tried until she couldn’t anymore, and maybe that’s why I ended up in a dumpster as well.”
I could see it in her eyes.
The doubt.
The insecurity.
The resentment.
It was there, staring right at me.