Despite the hat casting shadows across my features, the heat barrels down onto my profile. It's such a contrast to Cardill's weather which is currently becoming gloomy and cold, preparing for the winter that's a few weeks away.
"Your mom left you for hours, sometimes days at a time."
Now that I finally have the answers I've been searching for, I don't know if I want them anymore. It contradicts every little thing I thought I knew. My whole life feels like a lie. Like I've been submerged underwater, dying to take a breath, and now I've finally broken through the surface. The relief that accompanies the first breath of air, followed by the sting and burn of my lungs from prolonging that breath, is how I feel right now.
I didn't want to believe him.
I mean, why should I? He's lied to me for years, refused to talk to me, and took me away from the only proper home I thought I knew. I shouldn't want to believe him.
But as he revealed the truth, pulling back the layers and layers of my mother's lies and deceit, I felt like the floor would crumble beneath me.
And with his words, memories that I once believed to be lost to me came swirling back.
I suddenly recalled the nights I spent hungry, the stabbing pain in my stomach, my throat raw from crying and screaming for my mum.
It was why my dad was adamant about taking me back with him. But I must have buried the memories because, before yesterday, I had no recollection of them.
"I tried to reach out to your mom when I found out she had been kicked out. I pleaded with her to move with me or at least let me help her financially, but she refused for some reason. Even to this day, I don't know why."
He's tried, always tried. But my mum's words twist and mangle in my mind, suddenly fighting and grappling with the memories and Dad's truth.
I can't trust my own mind with what is true.
But I have to believe what I just heard. My recent phone call with Mum solidifies what Dad claimed.
The buzz of my phone startles me out of my trance as I glance down at it and notice that it's my mum calling me. Again. I should answer it, demand to get a clear answer, know if what Dad said was true, and pray that he lied about some things.
But I don't know what to say to her. It's not that late in London, still early into the evening; she's probably just leaving work now.
I draw in deep breaths, filling my lungs as my chest expands. I grasp my head in my hands, ducking between my shaking knees.
It was easy when Dad was the reason why my life fell apart. It was easier to blame him. I didn't love him like I did Mum. This hurt and betrayal feel a lot worse. My chest feels like it's going to tear itself apart.
I hear the click of a machine as I lift my head in time to see Carsen Blake running across the field as the passing machine spits out the football high in the air. Blake, only wearing his compressors under his low-hanging shorts, turns just before the goal line and catches the ball, tucking it into the crook of his elbow.
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Worth the Desire
RomanceBook III of UNC Series While it's known that there are five stages of grief, did you know that there are also five stages of love? Bailey Nicholson dreamed of finishing her Master's degree and settling in Boston while working alongside her boyfriend...