Attention What If

Chapter 39

POV: Darleen

"I'm going to go run a few errands, will you be okay here by yourself?" I ask Skylar.

"Yeah," She yawns. "I'll be fine."

I smile softly at her.

The movers just left after dropping off all my stuff. Thanks to them I finally have a bed in a room, which I quickly tucked Skylar into after giving her more pain medication. I also wrapped ice packs around her hands to help the swelling go down.

"Okay, I shouldn't be gone long." I peck her on the lips.

"K..." she closes her eyes and quickly drifts back to sleep.

With that, I grab my car keys and walk out the door.

I have this sick nauseous feeling in my stomach, the same feeling I always get when I have to meet with Matilda alone. I just don't like addressing the fact that she's my birth mother. It makes me feel all weird and messed up inside. I try to avoid even thinking about it.

Part of me wants Matilda in my life, I mean the woman did give birth to me. She should have a right. The other part of me wishes I never found out she is my birth mother. Wishes I could just forget about her altogether and have her never bother me again.

I never told my parents this, but after I found out Matilda gave birth to me, it really messed me up. It was actually one of the reasons I started acting out as a teen. I had all these thoughts and unresolved emotions about it. Like what would my life have been like if she raised me? Who is my real dad? How would the rest of the family treat me if they knew the truth? Do they know the truth? Have they all been secretly lying to me my whole life?

Just so much junk running through my head constantly. Then I met Skylar and I was able to get distracted from it all for a moment. But then after we broke up and I was single for a short period of time, it all just got worse. Would I be like Matilda? Would I grow up to be hateful and bitter and lonely?

Finding out my aunt was my birth mother was a very hard pill to swallow. And though I told myself I accepted it and that it's fine, I'm fine. I know deep down that can't be farther from the truth. Deep down I've never dealt with this trauma, this life-changing news. I still don't know how to handle it or what to do. It's just a part of myself I try to avoid at all costs. Which isn't healthy.

I parked the car in the driveway of the vacation home Skylar and I stayed at just weeks before. Matilda and I both agreed that what we have to say to each other should be said in private and not be made into a public spectacle. I clench the steering wheel and take a steady breath. I haven't even walked inside and I already just want to leave.

I get out of the car and walk up to the door, unlocking it with the key I have. The house has been professionally cleaned recently. I can tell by that sanitized smell in the air. The wood looks polished, the carpet has those neat vacuum lines, not a spec of dust or dirt in sight. She must have had it deep cleaned after Skylar and I left.

"In here," She calls from the living room.

I shut the door behind me and lock it before walking over to join her.

She has tea out and some type of cream cheese spread with crackers. I grab the mostly decorative chair in the corner of the room and drag it to be on the other side of the coffee table, opposite her. Then I sit down and interlock my finger into a fist, resting my elbows on my knees.

For a moment we lock eyes, and though I don't want to, I can see the resemblance between us. I always could. Family members used to always poke fun at me when I was younger, saying I looked like Matilda when she was younger, saying I was her clone. Sitting across from her like this, I can see how she is my mother. The look in her eyes, the size of her nose, the way she carries herself. We are alike. No matter how much I deny it.