Chapter 60 Chapter 60
Chapter 60 Chapter 60
Paris
“We were thinking of you guys,” my mom said, which I expected. As parents, they would be concerned about us. “We thought separation while you were 13 and Paris was 15 wouldn’t have been the best. It would’ve crushed you.”
“Well, news flash.” I leaned back with my face now stoic. “We figured it out without you telling us. Didn’t you think we would’ve noticed the change?”
“We knew,” they said simultaneously. Mom gave dad a look as if giving him the go-ahead to continue, and he did.
“We knew it was obvious, but your mother and I spoke about it and decided that it would be best for our children if we waited until you both leave for university.”
“Would we be too busy with our lives at university to pay attention to our parents’ divorce?” Cynthia drawled sarcastically.
“Cynthia,” My mother scolded. “Take that tone out of your voice. We were thinking about what’s best for the both of you!”
“Guess what, mama?” I had the urge to cry, and I couldn’t stop the pools from overflowing. “Whether or not you intended to, it affected us either way. I suffered from panic attacks for months.” Their surprised expressions confirmed they didn’t know. “Cynthia only started rebelling when you two stopped loving each other. So congratulations on that!”
I couldn’t do it. I jumped to my feet as my chest tightened. I don’t know why I thought I’d be able to do this. Obviously, I wasn’t strong enough. But as I moved to run away, a firm hand gripped my shoulder, and I spun to see my dad. For the first time in my entire life, his eyes were glossy. His features showed actual emotion, and he didn’t appear like the impassive, serious person I’ve known.
Then, he did something I never expected. He hugged me.
For a while, I stood frozen in my spot. Was my dad… hugging me? His shoulder shook once, and I raised my arms to wrap around his back as sudden remorse swamped my nerves. This wasn’t only hard for Cynthia and me. It must’ve been hell for him too. To call a woman in love with another man your wife for two years, sharing a bed with no comfort and still being strong for his kids, couldn’t have been easy. Of course, there were a zillion things they both could’ve done differently. But some things just slip away before your eyes. We are mere humans, after all.
“I’m so sorry, Paris,” he sobbed as he slid to his knees before me, keeping his head buried in my stomach. My tears fell as I watched the strongest man I know break in front of me. “I failed you. I failed my daughters.”
Cynthia ran towards us and joined our hug as her blue eyes leaked too. It left me with nothing else to do but fall to my knees, too, as I hugged them both. We were all vulnerable and broken. No matter how our lives had been for the past two years, we still had one thing in common: we’re family.
“You didn’t fail me, dad.” This came from Cynthia as Dad peered between us. “I’m sorry for being such a difficult child. You guys love me, and I appreciate that. I just… I was just scared to lose you.”
“You can never lose me.” The sincerity behind his voice caused my heart to plummet. “You were never a bad child, Cynthia.” He pressed long, sweet kisses to our foreheads—a foreign act for him, yet it felt like home. “From now on, I promise to be open and honest with you guys. I hate myself for causing harm to you—my angels—and the only reason I press on.”
Things, for me, took a drastic turn. When I woke up this morning, I never imagined this happening. We stayed like that for a while. It was peaceful. My house felt like home for the first time in two years. I was drifting away when Cynthia finally pulled away and ventured over to mom. I hadn’t even realised she was still sitting on the couch, silently crying.
My heart hurt at the sight. There was still a sliver of grudge in my heart for her. In my mind, she was the one who broke their marriage.
But I didn’t know for sure. I had no clue if it was a mutual situation. Perhaps she was the one who moved on first. It didn’t mean it was her fault. And though she hurt dad and us, the fact still remained that she was our mother.
They made a flawed decision by hiding the truth from us, but it was still out of love. So, it was out of love, too, that I hugged her. I forgave her. I understood her situation to some degree, and if she found happiness elsewhere, I didn’t want to be the one to keep her in a marriage where she wasn’t happy.
Cynthia and I were old enough to manage, and from what I witnessed today, Cynthia was more mature than I gave her credit for. Stronger too.
“File the divorce,” I mumbled as I pulled away. Dad was standing a few feet away, observing us. “You guys no longer have to stay unhappy to keep us happy.”