Thirty six
'Without you, this is me tonight. There's no more games and no more lies.'
-AJ Rafael-
***
He was still in there, lying in the cradle with the heavenly song God sang for good people like him—lying with the beautiful memories that are brought but cannot be forgotten. People say God calls the best people to return to Him rather than dealing too long with a world of greedy people. So, am I one of those greedy people? Always expecting from Him a big desire to live happily, and then He gets bored of hearing my complaints?
Underneath the trail of orange with the gentle breeze blowing through my hair and caressing my skin, I placed two bouquets of red roses in front of the tombstone that read George R. Khan with tears in my eyes. Maybe you will be tired of counting how many tears I have cried, but... this is the only thing I can do to express the longing that has been pent up for years since he left. Mother hugged and stroked my left arm while whispering that George - our beloved husband and father - would be sad if we were both still crying over his passing.
"I miss you," I said bitterly. "There's not a day in my life that I can forget Dad. I... am so tired of all the problems that happen non-stop. Sometimes..."
My words just stopped with the rustle of the wind that came again as pieces of last night's dream came back. George's sweet smile turned into a worried look on his handsome face when I screamed and complained like a child who had fallen off a bicycle. I looked up, laughing out loud, when my mother also mumbled about how painful it was for her to lose the best man in the world even though she had William.
"Life won't always be on top, Lizzie," Mother said, wiping away the trail of clear crystals with her hands. "There are times when we have to feel pain to numbness before we get great happiness."
I turned with a frown to look at my mother's disapproving face. Where is the happiness? Why is it so hard to get? Until I feel numb? Not everyone will endure trials that hit them mentally and physically simultaneously. Ah, maybe she can't feel what I think as a victim of rape and physical violence by her second ex-husband. She didn't know that her daughter had never lived peacefully for many years, and my feelings of anxiety mixed with fear became even more overwhelming when Billy came sneaking into town.
"Sorry, I don't know what you've been feeling all this time," she continued, looking at my face. A feeling of guilt and most profound regret is implied in the eyes that are getting swallowed by age. "I just want you to be happy, Lizzie, nothing more. I want you to live the life you dream of, find a man who loves you, and--"
"Don't talk about love, Mom; I no longer believe it!" I snapped in a high voice.
If it wasn't in front of George's grave, I might have shouted at him for mentioning something that had opened a wound in my heart. Maybe the wound will heal again with time, but trust? Just saying that word reminds me of Andre, who once boasted about building trust for me. He was nothing more than a sweet-mouthed braggart.
We were silent for a long time, lost in our thoughts until a ringing cell phone finally interrupted us. My mother hurriedly took the box out of her tote bag, looked at me for a moment, then walked away while answering the call.
I turned my head to observe my mother's back with millions of questions; why did she have to whisper like there was a big secret the woman was hiding? After a few minutes, he came back and said,
"We have to go home."
"Go home; I still want to be here, Mom," I said without looking at her.
"It's getting dark, Lizzie; we've been here long enough," said Mother a little forcefully.
"Not compared to Dad being in the ground! Falling asleep without knowing who killed him, Mom!" I growled, pointing at George's tombstone.
The mother's thin body froze, her mouth gaping wide at the words that came from my lips. Suddenly, my thin face turned pale as if I had done the same thing as Andre. Forcibly open the dry wound and sprinkle it with salt.
It is still apparent in memory that George did not come home for almost a week until someone found his body in an empty warehouse quite far from his office. Even though my mother had reported him as a missing person, the police were unable to see my father alive. I can't forget how the car George was driving suddenly caught fire while his body was intact in a large drum filled with rubbish and sand, except for the head. I can't explain it because it's too scary. I looked away and walked away from my mother towards the car without saying goodbye to George, who might have seen our little fight. Instead of continuing to interact with my mother, I'd better stay in the room like before.
###
The engine of the car we were driving was getting slower, but not with the sudden pounding of my chest when I caught the tall figure standing in front of his luxury car. In a suit that was so chaotic, he met my gaze that, without realizing it, I stopped breathing. Why did he get here? Why did he come after what he did to me a while ago?
The touch of my mother's hand made me stand on tiptoe in surprise, but she grabbed my left hand again and said, "Actually, William called earlier that someone was coming to the house to see you."
"That's why Mother told me to go home earlier?"
"We have to resolve what happened between you two, Lizzie," he asked, seeming commanding.
"Nothing needs to be done; nothing needs to be fixed. If Mom forces me, I'd better go," I threatened.
Actually, whose side are Mother and William on? Don't they know that this man has made Elizabeth Khan crazy? Don't they know that Andre is the person who almost made me end my life?
"It's not like that, Lizzie, I--"
I got out of the car and walked quickly into the house without paying attention to Andre's slightly hoarse call. Emotions suddenly took over me when he managed to withdraw my left arm; just as a reflex, a brutal slap landed on his cheek until his palm felt hot.
My chest was heaving erratically; it seemed like the oxygen here had suddenly been absorbed by a magical force until my mind was confused. He was about to approach with a pitiful face, but I moved away to protect myself that there was nothing we needed to finish.
It's all over.
I left at the same time as my mother's voice called Andre 'Mr. Johnson'. In the next second, there was the sound of a slap and a harsh curse uttered by my mother. I didn't want to look at him; instead, I closed the door and returned to the room.
A slap wouldn't be enough to pay for all his mistakes.
"He--"
"Don't talk to me, Will!" I snapped as William stood up from the sofa. "You don't know anything."
"I just want to intervene as your father, Elizabeth," he said, trying not to get emotional.
"You? Don't call yourself my father!" I walked quickly up the stairs to the room and stopped when William shouted.
"You are my daughter, and I don't want our relationship to be further complicated by your problems!"
"I don't fucking care!" I shouted, not wanting to lose. "You guys are the same!"
###
"How long will he be there?" I muttered, standing behind the bedroom window watching him standing in front of the house.
I turned around and saw the clock ticking, which showed eleven o'clock at night. For almost seven hours, he acted like Romeo, who wanted to win Juliet's heart. He wouldn't be able to fight the hot weather here, even though there was a tree above him to shade Andre.
A moment later, he looked up at my room with eyes filled with disappointment. The street lights that illuminated him couldn't beat how gloomy Andre's face was. He shifted his body, showing a piece of paper with a saying representing his heart after what happened that night.
I bit my lower lip, put my arm around him, and rubbed it gently. Then I saw the bandage covering my right hand, then I shook my head slowly. Saying sorry is easy, but healing the wounds he has already scratched in my heart and mind will not be easy. As long as I live, I will never forgive Andre, even if he bends his knees and begs for forgiveness.
My gaze narrowed as he wrote something more on the paper, and then he showed me with a lip movement I couldn't decipher. But I'm sure his thin lips pronounce what he engraved with a black marker there.
Forgive me for hurting you.