Chapter 143 OUR FAMILY.
\~~~RAINA.
“No, no. I refuse to believe this." I shook my head, watching my mother sink to the floor like her legs had given out.
She crumpled there, her back against the couch, knees drawn up to her chest. Her face was buried in her hands, and her shoulders were shaking with silent sobs. The room felt smaller, and the air thicker as if the walls were closing in on us both.
My cheek still stung from the slap earlier, but that pain was nothing compared to the ache ripping through my heart. My mother, the woman who'd bandaged my scraped knees, baked cookies for school events, and hugged me tight during thunderstorms, had just confessed to murder.
"Talk to me, Mother!" I hollered, my voice echoing off the walls. I stepped closer, but my feet felt heavy, like they were stuck in mud. Part of me wanted to run, to escape this nightmare, but another part needed answers.
How could this be real? How had my family hidden something so monstrous for twenty years?
She lifted her head slowly, her eyes red and swollen, mascara streaking down her cheeks like black rivers. She looked older in that moment and fragile as if the weight of her secrets had finally cracked her. "When I first learned of your father's infidelity," she started, her voice hoarse and broken, "I didn't confront him. I simply looked into the woman." She paused, drawing in a shaky breath, her fingers twisting the hem of her robe. "I hired someone discreetly. A private investigator. I needed to know who she was, and what she meant to him."
I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to hold myself together.
The living room around us looked so ordinary with the family photos on the mantel, the vase of fresh flowers on the coffee table, and the throw blanket draped over the armchair. But nothing felt normal anymore.
"And then what?" I pressed, my tone sharper than I intended.
"Then, I found her after weeks of searching." Her voice cracked, and she palmed her face, rubbing at her eyes as if she could erase the memory. "God, Raina... I didn't... I never planned for it to go that far. I just wanted to confront her, to make her stay away from our family." She rocked slightly, her body curled in on itself.
"But when I got there, to that little apartment she was hiding in, expecting for him to show up instead, the rage... it took over. She laughed at me, said Arthur, your father, loved her more, and that he was leaving us for her."
"So, you killed her?" The words came out flat, disbelieving. I could picture it in my mind's eye, the unbidden, dim light of some rundown place, and my mother with a knife while Elena begged or fought back. It made my stomach churn.
She nodded, tears spilling freely now. "I stabbed her to death. Over and over, until... until she stopped moving." Her hands trembled as she stared at them, as if seeing blood that wasn't there.
"Turns out your father had been following me. He came inside just in time after he heard the screams, burst through the door. He saw what I'd done, and instead of calling the police, he... he helped me clean it up..."
I backed up a step, my legs bumping into the coffee table. The story unfolded like a bad dream, each detail carving deeper into my soul.
"Did... did you ever know she was carrying his baby?" I whispered, the question burning in my throat.
Her eyes widened, and she stood up hurriedly, swaying a bit before steadying herself on the couch arm. "W... what?! No!" She shook her head violently, her hair whipping around her face. "He never told me that. If I'd known... oh God, Raina, if I had known she was pregnant..." She trailed off, pressing a hand to her mouth, gagging as if the thought made her sick.
The room spun around me. Luciano's mother died because of my parents. A child, his sibling, died too before it even had a chance. The guilt twisted like a knife in my gut. How could I face him now? How could I look at him knowing my blood was tied to her death? "And... what now?" I asked quietly, my voice trembling despite my efforts to keep it calm. "What happens now that I know this?"
Her voice broke again, softer this time. "Now... Now you understand. You know why I couldn't tell you. You know why your father couldn't..." She trailed off, her eyes filled with sorrow and guilt, pleading for something I wasn't sure I could give. "I couldn't help it. I was so angry, and so scared of losing everything."
"You killed a person, Mother!" I shouted, the words exploding out of me. Anger surged, hot and fierce, overriding the shock.
A person. A mother-to-be. Not some abstract enemy, but a real woman with dreams and fears.
"She deserved it, in my defense!" she fired back, her chin lifting defiantly even as tears streamed down. "How could she commit such adultery? Sneaking around with a married man, and destroying our home! She was married too!"
"Father betrayed you first, not her!" I countered, my hands balling into fists at my sides. "He was the one who cheated. She was just... just the other woman. You can't blame her for his choices!"
"Well, does it matter anymore?!" she yelled, throwing her arms out. Her face flushed red, a mix of rage and desperation. The argument hung between us, raw and ugly, exposing the fractures in our family that had been there all along.
I looked at her, really looked, and shook my head. The woman before me wasn't the mother I'd idolized. "Mum?"
"Yes," she whispered, her defiance crumbling. "And I... I hope you can forgive me someday. I... I never wanted it to be like this. I only wanted to protect you, our family..."
I shook my head slowly, barely able to contain the mix of disbelief, anger, and sorrow swirling inside me. "And now this is about protecting me and the family? Are you insane?!" The hypocrisy burned.
All those years of lectures on right and wrong, of teaching me to be honest and strong, and here she was, justifying murder for the sake of 'family.'
"I wanted to keep our family together," she insisted, her voice pleading now, and reaching out a hand toward me.