𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

➻Chapter 25- Echoes Of The Past.

Thank you for the immense support! We shot from 3k to 5.11k in just 5 days which is insane honestly!!!!! Thank you soooo much for the love!❤️

Please note: This is Tyler's pov from when they return home:

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TYLER'S POV:

Dropping Adele, I paced back towards my car with a long exhalation and hopped in the driver's seat. My mind was a roller coaster of emotions right now and I couldn't even think straight. Like for real, what the hell was happening to me?

I definitely needed to loosen up and just cease all of this thinking, because I would go crazed otherwise.

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Tired, I pulled my car into the parking lot and shut the engine. With a quiet sigh escaping my mouth, my eyes wandered onto my dad's car parked towards my left.

My hands clutched tighter onto the steering wheel instantly with exasperation.

So they're home?

My jaw clamped and I snorted bitterly. People out here really think my parents are wondrous as parents, and I am very content with them. Right?

Wrong! Just because I never let it show on my face and smile while I am with them does not necessarily mean it's all good.

The last time I truly felt I had a family was on Isabelle's birthday.

Yes exactly.

Shutting my eyes, I evoked every turmoil I've been in just because my parents couldn't care less about their son. The emotions that I don't let on my face ever, the memories that I dug deep inside somewhere but which never failed to flash in front of my eyes whenever I see my parents, particularly my father.

Why was I speaking this way and about my parents you wonder? The grievous childhood memories have left a permanent scar on me and no matter what happens I cannot forget the detachment and the isolation my parents put me through when I was just a little one. Just a child. I could never forget that. Especially when my parents finally remember they have kids and come home to visit them.

My father has always been selfish. I know it doesn't seem like it, but all he cared about was money no matter what happened. All of this lavish and expensive shit is what my dad absolutely adores and expects his children to do the same. My family isn't even fit enough to be called a home whatsoever. They've never felt homely to me, or must I say they never tried making me feel so.

Resting my head back, I squeezed my eyes shut painfully. There were nights I lay in my bed waiting for my parents to return and at least embrace their little child. But they never did.

On stormy nights, when the thunder roared through the window, I pushed my face into the soft bear toy and wrapped my two-year-old body around it. Nobody that I could call a family was around me to make me feel better even as a child. I would clutch onto my Spider-Man PJs when my body quivered with fear. Only a hand would run through my hair when I needed someone, and that was no one but a nanny in this huge house of ours.

Times when I truly needed my parents, they weren't there. Except for Stacy, the nanny—who would tiredly fall asleep beside my bed while I tried as hard as I could to sleep but to no avail.

Why the situation? Well...

When I was born, my parents were clearly not ready to be 'parents'. I was often left alone in the house with a nanny while my parents were busy out there making money and living their lives, completely forgetting they had a child waiting for them at home. I grew up just wanting to spend some time with my parents and get what the other children have with their parents. But I never did. I was frequently dropped alone to exist with expensive toys, candies, and a nanny taking care of me. Little did they know, money does not raise a child, there's more to it than just materialistic happiness!