All The Lies We Told

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Alyssa clears her throat and nudges me with her bony shoulder. She asks, "Ready?"  in her soft, consoling voice that she strictly reserves for the unexpected. Of all the years I've known her, I've only heard it a few times, like after getting bad news or learning of a death. I think maybe my situation constitutes both.

I got bad, bad news, and now, I'm dead inside. Check and check.

Tucker usually isn't one for confrontation or getting involved in highly personal things, either. So the fact that he's here right now means the world to me, even if he looks like he's about to crap himself. The warmth of his body as he wraps his arm around me reminds me that I'm not alone; no matter how alone I might feel at this point in my life, I have Tucker and Alyssa. And for that, I'm grateful. I don't know if I could have survived these past few days without them. Big thanks to Tucker for letting me stay over and listening to me cry myself to sleep.

I slowly draw in a breath so deep and hold it until I can't anymore. My eyes roll as I exhale, yet I still manage to maintain the same glazed-over look as when I first got here. "As ready as I'll ever be."

The lights flicker on in the entryway, and I spot a silhouette of someone rummaging around behind Mom's beloved sheer curtains that her mom left for her in her will. She said that at first, she hated them like every other Nash had before her. It wasn't until she bought this house—which she appointed as her forever home—that she fell in love with it and saw its beauty. Oh, and the comical part of all they come with a very specific set of care instructions Mom likes to refer to as the "Nash Family Secret".
Well, move over cryptic, sheer curtain-washing instructions! There's a new "Nash Family Secret" in town. Here's to the end of the Nash family line. Aubrey's on the outs; I've made up my mind.

My heart is thumping, and my arms have this weird, tingly feeling that extends all the way down to the tips of my fingers. No matter what I do, I can't shake it off. Knowing what I'm about to walk into and have to endure makes a mess of my nerves, and I can't bring myself to enter. I knew as soon as I reached the porch that someone would come to the door, only I was hoping it would be anyone other than her.

Aubrey stands in the opening of the doorway and flashes a dejected smile. She looks all cleaned up and, most of all, sober. Her face is fresh with makeup, and she's rocking her half-up, half-down hairdo she's always loved. If these past couple of days hadn't happened, I'd be running up to her and excitedly hugging her right now because she looks like the cool and composed Aubrey I remember. The one I loved so dearly—a cousin so close, she was basically my sister.

"Looks like you made yourself right at home." I cross my arms and give her the biggest death stare I have ever given anyone. I repeat Alyssa's wise words in my head:

Everyone deserves a break. She's hurting, too, you know.
Everyone deserves a break. She's hurting, too, you know.
Everyone deserves a break. She's hurting, too, you know.

"Declan?" Mom runs down the stairs, and Dad follows—their faces brim with worry and sorrow. Mom throws herself at me and hugs me tightly while repeatedly telling me how sorry she is, and then Dad wraps us both in his arms. My lips tremble as I fight back tears, and I notice Aubrey still standing in the doorway. The steeliness in her guise has dissipated, and she's now glaring at me in—what looks like—envy.

"I'm sorry, too," Aubrey says with a bated breath. "To all of you." She's snivelling through her apology and wipes her premature tears with her sleeve. "I— I'm especially sorry to you, Dec. I really didn't mean for any of this to turn out like this."

Alyssa's enlightening mantra disappears from my mind entirely. Rage, hurt, and resentment pour out of me in its place, "Aubrey!" A single snicker escapes my mouth. "You don't get to drop all these bombshells on me in the most demented ways possible and then apologise for it." I bow out of Mom's hug and stand face-to-face with Aubrey. "I don't care what you were going through. None of it will ever excuse what you've done."

Even though they're idly standing by, Alyssa and Tucker's presence is giving me the strength I need to get through this. I wonder how awkward this is for them. Maybe I shouldn't have brought them here, but I really needed the moral support. "Show me my birth certificate." My eyes seesaw between Mom and Dad. I wait for one of them to budge, and by this time—probably in a different situation—Dad would've caved by now because of how deeply afraid he is of me hating him. Though, neither of them so much as flinch.

"Your birth certificate doesn't matter; you're our son."
"I said, show me! You call me your son, but you have never made the effort to have a relationship with me. You constantly berate me and say so many cruel things when you think I can't hear you. I'm not your son. You know it, and I know it now, too."

Tears form in his eyes, and even though my adrenaline is sky-high, I can recognise the tribulation my words cause him. I've never seen him shed a tear, but here he is, crying not only in front of me but in front of my friends and my sister.

"Give him a break. None of this is his fault. Your relationship with him has nothin—"
"Enough!" Mom interrupts Aubrey's suspicious attempt at defending Dad. "Tucker, Alyssa, please go home. This is a family affair, and you're not needed here. You two," she points at Aubrey and me. "Inside. Now!"

Alyssa and Tucker nod at Mom, and Alyssa quietly asks me to text her later as they both hug me before fleeing the scene.

When we get inside, Mom sits at the head of the table in the dining room and gestures for us to sit down. I purposely let Aubrey sit first so I have the chance to sit as far away from her as possible. As I slide into my chair, Dad places his hand on my shoulder, tells me he loves me and adds, "No matter what," like it will make a difference. If he thinks since this secret they've been hiding my entire life was brought to light, that it would change my view of our relationship, he's wrong.

"You two are siblings, yes." Mom exhumes from a box secreted in the deepest part of her mind. She tucks her hands between her hamstrings and stares at the centrepiece decor. "But you guys were never supposed to know."

Mom's getting into all the nitty-gritty details of where and how our story began. It was Aunt Emma's second year of University. The whole summer after her first year, all she could talk about was transferring and finally applying for FIT. She wanted nothing more than a fresh start and to follow her calling. But then she got knocked up by some guy—our dad—at a rager in the woods.

"At first, she was thrilled to have two kids, fraternal twins at that. A boy and a girl, which was always her dream. She gave up her dreams of FIT and dropped out of college as soon as she found out she was pregnant, got a job and worked all the way up until you guys were born. She struggled a lot during the first couple of months. Emma was so neurotic and wound up all the time. I thought maybe it was lack of sleep, so I offered to take you guys off of her hands for a night. Well, one night turned into three and next you know, you guys were with me for a month, and Emma was nowhere to be found. Finally, she reappeared, all drugged up in my house, screaming for you guys." Mom pauses and sighs heavily. "You guys went home that day, and she dropped Declan off again that night, claiming Declan won't shut up. She couldn't get you to stop crying," She looks at me with teary eyes. "but as soon as Emma handed you over to me, you stopped and snuggled your tiny little head into my chest. A week later, Emma asked me if I would take you off her hands. She said being a single parent to two children was too much for her. I couldn't say no. Because, in that moment, it felt right. I felt like you chose me to be your mother the night she dropped you off. How could I have denied you of that?"