On The Other Side

Chapter 23 - The Truth

CLAY
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I sit George on the couch as Nick and Oma make their way to the kitchen, giving us some privacy. I then crouch down between his legs.

"Your dad..." he stutters and I respond with a nod, tenderly cupping his face.

"I've been looking for you, attempting to get in touch, to let you know," I explain slowly, ensuring he absorbs every word. "But we were so young, and I couldn't remember your last name. Whenever I asked my parents about you, they acted like I didn't know who I was talking about."

"Wh-why?"

My heart breaks as I use my thumb to wipe away his tears. I take a deep, shaky breath and then look into his eyes.

"You probably don't remember, but your mom and my dad had an affair," I explain and he nods. "She started taking drugs because she didn't know any other escape, but drugs aren't what killed her. My dad was also very in love with her, but he couldn't leave me and mom behind, because we knew too much about his business and he was scared we would rat him out."

He just hugs me and I can feel his heart breaking a little with each word that comes out of my mouth.

"He thought that the best solution was killing her," I whisper softly and George breaks down, his tears pouring like an unstoppable flood.

I feel my shirt getting damp from his tears, so I just hug him tighter and start rubbing his back.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper once more, letting go of him briefly to sit down beside him. Then, I wrap my arms around him once again, hoping he doesn't feel alone.

We continue hugging until George's sobs gradually quiet, and then I let go. His eyes are swollen and red, and he looks like he lost all hope.

"She wasn't really a great mum, but I just feel bad for blaming her for dying." he manages to say in between hiccups, his voice heavy with a mix of emotions.

I hold his hands gently. "I know we can't bring your mom back," I say softly, and he shakes his head, unable to find words. "But my dad will pay for the damage he's done," I reassure him, and then add firmly, "And Pablo will, too. I can promise you that."

"No, Clay." he sniffles "I don't want you or anyone else interacting with Damian or Pablo. We barely escaped."

"Georgie, I can't let Pablo do that to you, and just move on like nothing happened," I whisper, gently cupping his face. "I can't let that happen."

"Let's go eat," he says, changing the topic. Standing up, he tugs at my hand.

I know he isn't comfortable talking about this, but I want him to know that he can talk to me about anything.

Standing up, I quietly trail behind him as we make our way to the kitchen. Nick and Oma have already finished eating, the room now a silent observer of our unspoken griefs.

George takes his place at the table, and I sit down across from him. As we begin our meal, a heavy silence envelops us, and we eat in silence.

After we finish, George begins cleaning up, but I walk over and try to stop him. Though he avoids my gaze, I tenderly lift his chin, guiding his eyes to meet mine. His eyes are full of tears, so I pull him into a tight embrace.

"I can't believe you're Dream," he murmurs, his voice barely audible through the fabric of my shirt.

"It explains why we clicked in an instant," I chuckle softly, and he responds by squeezing our hug even tighter, finding solace in our shared understanding.

"I want to go to our spot one day." he keeps whispering and I nod.

"We could definitely do that," I smile, gently pulling him out of the hug. "But for now, why don't you go take a shower, and I'll handle cleaning up the kitchen?" I suggest, and he nods before heading off.

I finish cleaning the kitchen, so I make my way to my bedroom, checking to see if George is done. Hearing the shower still running, I decide to go find Oma.

I walk into the living room and then onto the balcony, where I find Oma sitting on a bench, gazing at her backyard. When she notices me, a warm smile graces her face, and she shifts to the left, inviting me to join her.

I settle onto the bench beside her, and she rests her head on my shoulder, releasing a sigh. "I'm sorry for—" she starts to say, but I interrupt her before she can continue.

"Oma, you have nothing to be sorry about. Thank you for telling us, because we wouldn't have known if it wasn't for you." I reassure her, and she takes my hand in both of hers, a gesture of appreciation and connection.

After a moment of silence, she breaks the silence. "Nick's sleeping in the guest bedroom," she says, and I nod.

"Yeah, I figured."

"Clay," she lifts her head from my shoulder, fixing her gaze on me. "I'm going to give you some money, and I won't accept 'no' for an answer," she declares with determination.

I start to shake my head and open my mouth to decline her offer, but she swiftly interrupts me before I can speak.

"Nick told me everything." she begins, her voice soft but resolute. "You're currently relying on his finances, and I don't think he has much left." A light chuckle escapes her lips. "I'm an old woman with more money than I know what to do with, spending it mainly on groceries and my garden. I have no use for most of it, and you do."

As I peer into her eyes, she nods slightly, letting me know she's sure about it. Filled with appreciation, I embrace her tightly. "Thank you, Oma,"

She releases me from the hug, playfully scrunches her nose, and smiles. "Go shower now, you smell,"

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