Chapter Thirty-Two

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 by the time Fabian dropped me off, and I looked back for the umpteenth time to ensure that he was still there. Just like every time I checked, he was sitting in the car under the neighbour’s tree, 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 made fun of me for being a baby. But she, more than anyone, understood the intensity of the situation and our feelings.

As she appeared in front of me, I felt my guilt resurface full folds. Her eyes were red and puffy, and the evident dark circles under her eyes told me we shared a similar night of little to no 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 regard me with confusion evident on her face.

“For what?” she questioned with her straight eyebrows now pulled together.

“I left you here,” I told her. “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 to the side.

She shrugged and dropped her gaze, with a hint of pink taking over her cheeks. “I cried, Paris. That shit is embarrassing for me.”

We both chuckled a bit at that. As always, Cynthia will be Cynthia. Still, I vowed that I would be there for her from now on. She is only fifteen. Though she is definitely old enough to understand her emotions and what was going on around her, she still needed a little more guidance.

Come to think of it, it was only when things changed at home that she started rebelling. How did I not notice? I always felt that it was the influence of high school that changed her. I wasn’t the only one who noticed how different our parents were. Mom and dad only ever agreed on decisions and punishment when it came to Cynthia and me. Could it be that Cynthia became a ‘rebel kid’ to get some sort of normalcy in our family again?

She’s a smart kid. 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 henceforth. You know that, right?”

“I know,” 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 look in Fabian’s direction, I held onto Cynthia’s hand and moved to face our future.

My parents were sitting 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 in suit with a serious yet determined look on his face, 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, and I am so sorry, could—”

“Paris, my dear, have a seat, please. You too, Cynthia,” my dad said as he cut 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. I noticed how far away from each other they stayed. It was evident that there was no love between them. They were only coexisting.

Silence sat among us for a while, 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 that a blanket was folded 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, I know you guys must be wondering… how long this has been going on,” my mom started as our focus shifted to her.

“Yes?” Cynthia replied, making her voice monotone and void of all emotions.

Mom cleared her throat with her eyes down-casted before responding. “Our marriage died years ago,” she admitted softly. “We weren’t attracted to each other emotionally or…physically.” She looked up to meet 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, and it definitely took me by surprise.

“Two years?” Cynthia and I said in unison.

I thought it was going on for about two months, not two years! I knew that something happened two years ago in their marriage, but I only thought that was when they started getting bored of each other. I didn’t suspect it was longer.

“Yes,” came his simple reply. He didn’t look or sound hurt, even though it seemed as if he was trying hard to keep up the act, from the way his hands and feet twitched every now and then. In fact, the only thing I believed he regretted was getting us, his kids, in the trouble of it all.

“So why didn’t you guys just get a divorce?” Cynthia asked with her voice dripping in annoyance. I knew she believed that coming out with the truth back then would’ve made things 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 at least try and 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 they’re numerous things they could’ve turned to for help. Couples’ counselling, therapy, vacations! 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 obviously repelled each other.

“We were thinking of you guys,” my mom said, which I expected. As I said, as parents, they would naturally be concerned about us. “We thought that separation while you were 13 and Paris was 15 wouldn’t have been the best. It would’ve crushed you.”

“Well, news flash.” I leant back with my face now stoic. “We figured it out without you telling us. Didn’t you think that we would’ve noticed the change?”

“We knew,” they said at the same time. Mom gave dad a look as if giving him the go-ahead to continue, and that he did.

“We knew that 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 college.”

“Then we would be too caught up in our lives to care whether or not our parents are divorcing?” 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 suddenly felt the urge to cry, and I couldn’t stop the pools from overflowing. “Whether you intended to or not, it affected us either way. I suffered from panic attacks for months.” Their surprised expressions confirmed that they didn’t know. “Cynthia only started rebelling when you two decided to stop loving each other. So congratulations on that!”

I couldn’t do it. I jumped to my feet as my chest started tightening. I don’t know why I thought I’d be able to do this. It was obvious that I wasn’t strong enough.

But as I moved to run away again, a firm hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I spun to see my dad. For the first time in my entire life, his eyes were glossy. There was actual emotion in his features, and he didn’t appear as the emotionless, serious person I knew him as.

Then, he did something I never expected. He hugged me.

For a while, I was frozen in my spot. My dad was… hugging me? His shoulder shook once, and I slowly 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 who was in love with another man your wife for two years, sharing a bed that had no comfort and still had to be strong for his kids, couldn’t have been easy.

Of course, there were a zillion things they both could’ve done differently, but just like Fabian and that girl who died, some things just happen to slip away right before your eyes.

We are mere humans, after all.

“I’m so sorry, Paris,” he sobbed as he slid down to his knees before me, keeping his head buried in my stomach. My tears fell involuntarily 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 in on 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, mundane and broken. No matter how our living had been for the past two years, we all still had one thing in common: we’re family.

“You didn’t fail me, dad.” This came from Cynthia as Dad raised his head to look at both of us. “I’m sorry for being such a difficult child. I know you guys love me. 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. None of you was.” He pressed long, sweet kisses to both 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 why I push on.”

Things, for me, took a drastic turn. When I woke up this morning, I never imagined that this would’ve happened.

We stayed like that for a while, and it felt so peaceful. In two whole years, my house felt like home. I found myself drifting away when Cynthia finally pulled away and ventured over to mom. I hadn’t even realized that 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 that for sure. I didn’t know if it was a mutual thing or not. Perhaps she was the one who made a move to move on first. It didn’t mean it was her fault.

And though she hurt dad and inevitably hurt us, the fact still remained that she was our mother. Yes, whatever decision they made on our behalf was flawed, but it was still out of love.

So, it was out of love, too, that I followed Cynthia over to her and hugged her as well. This was to show that I forgave her. I understood to some degree her situation, 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.

I knew that 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.” I shifted my gaze to Cynthia to ensure she was on the same page with me, and she gave me a slight nod of agreement.

My dad was already staring at mom, and when she lifted her head to look at him, I saw a silent agreement that I may not ever understand. They spoke to each other, breaking the marriage once and for all with no words.

My dad was the first to break their stare, and the slight rise and fall in his shoulder depicted a sigh. I felt for him. No matter how ‘dead’ their marriage has been, she was still his wife. This must’ve been a nostalgic moment for both of them.

I left mom’s side to engulf my father in a hug again. It felt like heaven when he hugged me back. He squeezed me to his chest, and I knew, just knew that we would be okay.

Mom decided that she would be the one to leave.

It didn’t take her too long to pack a suitcase, as I assumed wherever she was going had necessities that she already needed. My dad watched her all the way, every move as she folded her clothes, to the very revolution of the zipper when she closed the suitcase.

She cried all the way. I could hear her silent sniffles now and then as she grabbed whatever she needed. Cynthia stayed in her room, and I stayed with dad. It was so ironic. After everything that I’ve been through, after all the anger and pain that this has caused, I found myself being strong for all three of them when I thought I’d be the one to suffer the most.

I guess I could get used to it. Now that mom was leaving, I’d basically be the woman of the house. It was a weird thought for me to grasp, but I was somewhat ready to at least try.

Cynthia hugged mom when she stopped by her room. They didn’t share any words, not out loud at least. It all seemed like it moved in slow motion. Dad and I followed behind her slowly to the front door as she wiped her tears and pulled the bag on wheels behind her. Dad reached out to open the door for her, and she spun on her heels to look at us both.

At first, I was unsure what to say or do. Is this goodbye? Will we still have dinner together on Christmas? Maybe.

This is the part where we figure out how to move forward and adapt to the change. Maybe we weren’t ready. Perhaps we were. But the only way to know for sure was to try.

Dad hugged her. It was short and swift, but it was something. I assumed they would discuss the terms of their divorce when everyone wasn’t so emotional. I could see neighbours pulling their blinds to look, but I didn’t care.

It was my time to hug her, and she ran her hand through my hair before finally pulling me flush to her body. I closed my eyes as I squeezed the living daylight out of her. Again, there was little to no words exchanged, yet it felt like the perfect farewell.

I opened my eyes as she pulled away, and across the road, I could still see Fabian, watching me with sympathy and regret, probably for not being here with me. But I offered a small smile of reassurance and silently communicated with him that I was fine and I’d spend the rest of the day with my family.  He seemed reluctant at first but soon pulled away. I made a mental promise to call him later if he didn’t call me first. But I knew he’d always be there. So, for now, I had to be with my family.

With a deep breath, I watched as my mother descended the steps and walked towards the cab that I called for her, deciding that driving while she was so emotional wasn’t the smartest thing to do. She paused at the door for a minute, looking back at us as we stood on the porch. Her eyes drifted above us as I assumed where Cynthia was watching from. Then, with one final nod as if accepting this new reality, she ducked inside the cab. And just like that, she was gone.

I closed my eyes and blew out a breath as dad’s arms went around my shoulder. We reentered the house, and oddly, it felt lighter and freer. That damn elephant finally left, and I didn’t mean mom. The tension that sat in our home had finally lifted, and it felt great.

My dad left to go to the kitchen, probably for a drink, as I simply stood at the door and gazed at everything. Each wall held emblems of memories growing up and that happiness we once had. As I shifted my gaze from furniture to furniture, flashbacks of moments we’d had as kids would resurface to my mind.

A smile teased on my lips as I walked further inside. I ran my hand over the couch, remembering how we had countless movie nights right here and would always fall asleep before we were even halfway through.

I trailed my finger over the wall where my and Cynthia’s heights were marked, remembering how mine stayed at the same height for four years straight. I chuckled at the memory. I’m such a short-cake.

Finally, I stood at the entrance of our dining room. This was where we shared every meal together, even when we weren’t that much of a family anymore. I rested my head against the wall as I found the will to smile.

This house held both good and bad memories, but most of it was good. Things don’t always go the way we want them to. That’s just how life works. We might have to live in a single-parent home from now on, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make new memories.

Colton used to tell me something that he always thought cheered me up, but instead, it only sounded corny. He always told me to make lemonade anytime life gives me lemons. I always laughed, only because he sounded like an uncle from an old movie. But he was right.

Life as we know it can change any day. We can either wallow in it or rise from it. I, for one, wasn’t in the mood for wallowing. This is and will always be my home, and no matter what memory I make, whether good or bad, I’ll always hold onto them. Because one day, when I am miles away, it is those same memories that will make me find my way back home.

With that final thought, I pushed away from the wall and headed upstairs. I found Cynthia’s room and gently knocked. I didn’t wait for an answer as I went through.

She was lying on her bed facing up, and I plopped down beside her with a sigh. We didn’t talk for a while. I assumed we were still letting it all sink in.

“What’s up?” she finally whispered, keeping her eyes on her white roof.

I smiled a bit before answering. “Nothing. You?”

“Same,” she mumbled, and silence fell between us again. “Is your boyfriend gone?” she added after a while.

“Yup.”

I caught her movement from the corner of my eyes as she turned her head to look at me. “You have a nice boyfriend.”

I couldn’t help but smile at this. “Yes, he is, isn’t he?” Pride swelled in my chest for him. He really is the best. “Colton and I are friends again, too,” I told her eagerly.

“That’s awesome. Now he’ll come around more often again, and I can finally date him.” We both laughed as I playfully nudged her.

“As if.”

Another series of silence sat between us as we simply let the entire day soak in.

“So, what now?” she asked in a small voice, and I knew she was no longer talking about boys.

If I was honest, I didn’t quite know the answer myself. But I told her the only thought that came to my mind, knowing that there wasn’t anything else we could do but this.

“Now we live, baby sister. Now we live.”

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This chapter was very emotional for me, I dont know why but it was.

One more chapter to go guys! Just one!

Hopefully tomorrow because I have a new book to start for October.

I love y'all for staying so long! <3

Come back for my rant tomorrow lol.