Chapter 59 Chapter 59
Chapter 59 Chapter 59
Paris
I stood outside my house in a nervous mess. I tried to move forward, but my feet wouldn’t go. It was almost one in the afternoon when Fabian brought me home, and I checked for the umpteenth time to ensure he was still there. But he always was—just sitting in the car and staring at me.
“You can do this, Paris,” I mumbled, trying to give myself a push. Still, I felt stuck. With a deep breath, I grabbed my phone and dialled Cynthia’s number. She picked up on the third ring.
“Paris? Where are you?” she asked, sounding distressed.
I sighed. “I’m outside. Can you—um—can you meet me by the porch?”
“Sure. I’m on my way.”
On a typical day, she would’ve teased me for being a baby. But she, more than anyone, understood the intensity of the situation and our feelings. As she appeared before me, my guilt resurfaced full folds. Her eyes were red and puffy, and the evident dark circles under them told me we shared a similar night of little sleep. I left her to suffer here on her own. It killed me.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled as I pulled her in a hug. She pushed back a little to look at me. “For what?” she asked with her eyebrows pulled together.
“I left you here,” I said. “I had Fabian to cheer me up, and I left you alone.”
She sighed before pulling me to her chest again. “Hey, it’s okay. We were both upset and hurt. I’m not mad at you. In fact, I’m happy you weren’t here.”
“Why?” I asked, cocking my head sideways.
She shrugged and dropped her gaze, a hint of pink spreading across her cheeks. “I cried, Paris. That shit is embarrassing for me.”
We both chuckled at that. As always, Cynthia will be Cynthia. Still, I vowed I’d be there for her. She was only fifteen. Although she was old enough to understand her emotions and what was happening around her, she still needed a little more guidance. Come to think of it, she only started to revolt when things changed at home. How did I not notice?
I always assumed that the influence of high school changed her. Mom and dad only ever agreed on decisions and punishment regarding Cynthia and me. Could it be that Cynthia became a ‘rebel kid’ to regain normalcy in our family? She’s a smart girl. I should’ve known. I was too consumed by my own feelings to notice. But not anymore.
“From now on, we have each other’s backs, okay? Things won’t be easy for us hereafter. You know that, right?”
“Yes,” she said with a nod. “Let’s do that.”
I felt better knowing that we were doing this together. We were siblings, after all.
“Are you ready to go inside?” she asked. “They have been waiting for you.”
With a deep breath and another glance in Fabian’s direction, I held onto Cynthia’s hand and moved to face our future.
My parents were seated on the couch in the living room as if this was an interrogation or sentencing for the rest of our lives. My mother jumped to her feet as she saw me, and my dad followed suit with a serious yet determined expression, and I knew this couldn’t be good.
“Paris,” my mom whispered as she took a shaky step towards me. “What you saw last night was unacceptable. I’m so sorry. Could—”
“Paris, my dear, have a seat, please. You too, Cynthia,” my dad said, cutting off Mom.
I shared a look with Cynthia before sitting in the chair across from them. My mom nodded to herself as if accepting something before sitting down also. My parents sat at least five feet apart. It was evident that there was no love between them.
They were only coexisting. Silence sat among us, as if no one knew where or how to start. They both held similar looks of fatigue in and around their eyes, and I noticed a folded blanket on the couch. It made me wonder if they even spoke last night. Maybe they did. Perhaps they discussed what they’d tell us.
“So, you guys must be wondering… how long this has been happening,” my mom said as our focus shifted to her.
“Yes?” Cynthia replied, her voice monotone and void of all emotions.
Mom cleared her throat with her gaze on the ground. “Our marriage died years ago,” she admitted softly. “We weren’t attracted to each other emotionally or… physically.” She met our gazes as she said that, as if we wouldn’t understand what she meant.
“I found out about your mother’s affair around two years ago,” my dad interjected.
“Two years?” Cynthia and I cried in unison. I thought it went on for about two months, not two years! Something happened two years ago in their marriage, but I only assumed that was when they started getting bored of each other. I didn’t suspect the affair had anything to do with it.
“Yes,” came his simple reply. He didn’t appear or sound hurt, even though it seemed he was trying hard to keep up the act, from the way his hands and feet twitched. In fact, the only thing I believed he regretted was getting us—his kids—in the mix.
“So why didn’t you guys just get a divorce?” Cynthia asked with her voice dripping in annoyance. She believed that if they were honest from the beginning, things would be easier. I agreed and disagreed at the same time. A divorce between parents with kids can take a significant toll on our lives, especially teenagers figuring out life and understanding love and relationships.
I didn’t believe they should’ve lied to us, but they should have at least tried to work on their marriage.
They gave up without even attempting to mend their love. There must’ve been something that attracted them to one another, right? And there are many things they could’ve turned to for help. Couples’ counselling, therapy and even holidays! They could’ve at least tried.
Then and only then, if it didn’t work, I would’ve accepted that they were just not meant to be. Now, it was far too late. They repelled each other.