All The Lies We Told

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

The voice in my head is screaming at me over the sound of the car's engine revving at every green light, there's so much going on I can't process any of it. I have butterflies in my stomach from the speed and my arms and legs are all stretched out, grasping hold just in case. There's my anxiety for you. Truth is, in this very moment, minus my body's reaction to the chaotic driving, I don't know if I'd be entirely disappointed if we crashed. I need a damn break from these fucking thoughts.
From the voices of everyone around me.
From life.

Mom's voice is somehow louder than the one in my head. I guess Mom and Dad were listening to us when they went upstairs and weren't happy with how I acted toward Aubrey. Dad doesn't accuse me of anything, only agrees with Mom, which makes it worse. Grow a pair, Dad. Tell me how you really feel for once.

"We raised you better than that, Dec! You need to be kinder to her. Do you even know half the things she's gone through?"

Chuckling to myself I'm grinning uncontrollably and Mom's eyeing me from the rearview mirror. I'm laughing in my head because yes, I do know and still, I don't see how what she's been through or me being raised better than that makes anything she did okay but my actions are in question? I didn't even do anything but react. It's bullshit.

"What if you were in her position?"

I stay silent for the remainder of the car ride, glaring out the window wishing Mom would shut up and only drive because I don't want to hear it anymore. I have nothing to say to her. The only excuse I have for giving Aubrey the cold shoulder is the same excuse Aubrey gave for doing what she did to me.

I was hurt.
I'm still hurt.

But I know them too well, Mom would say acting on my emotions is never the answer, and if it were before my sexuality made things weird, Dad would mention something about self-reflection and control and its importance.. They'd never take my being hurt as an excuse, especially if it meant hurting someone else in the process. They did raise me better, but it's fuck-sakingly exhausting having to be their perfect well-rounded son all the time. I'm tired of crying behind closed doors and pretending like I'm all fine and dandy when I'm not. I'm tired of living by their crazy expectations and living in fear of what others might think or do when they really dig deep. I'm tired of Mom's profound chats. I wanna mope around and be sad, watch Netflix and eat entire tubs of ice cream. I want to wake up in Reese's wrappers.

If I were in her position, I wouldn't have had my boyfriend catfish her, that's for damn sure. I'm not being mean or unkind. If anything, I haven't been mean enough.
I've been in standby mode my whole life, watching everyone, including Mother Nature, change on me over time but I stayed the same. It's been all about pleasing Mom and Dad, playing soccer, getting good grades, and getting into a good college.

A life that wasn't mine.

We rush into the hospital all wound up and anxious for the news. This can go either way, but I have a feeling it's bad. It's always bad. With the way my life has been going, I can't see it going any other way. The way mom was speeding only meant one of two things: she either woke up from her coma or died.

Aubrey is dragging her feet, unable to bring herself to take the lead when we reach the front desk. Marisa, the receptionist whose name tag is covered in stickers, points us to the waiting room and asks us to have a seat while she notifies Aunt Emma's care team of our arrival. I hear her whisper on the phone as we walk away. She's trying to be quiet and chill about it but the girl needs to find a new job because she sucks at concealing her emotions. Aunt Emma is dead. It's written all over Marisa's face and is hidden in every undertone of her voice.

"Family of Emma Nash?" a doctor screams out of the double doors.

Mom is the first to stand up and approach the Doctor. The apathetic look on her face gives me no inkling of what she's got for us, but again, I have a feeling it's bad and Marisa kinda already spilt the beans anyway. If it were good, there would be a little hint of sparkle in her eyes when she greeted us or asked us to have a seat. But nope, her eyes were as dark as a black hole. Just like this doctor's is.

"What do you got for us?" Mom jumps straight to the point.

"She's awake." The three of us sigh in relief and Aubrey catches her breath. I'd love to say that I expected a different reaction from her but I'm not surprised her reaction is.... Indifferent, to say the least. It's Aubrey for fucks sake, she doesn't know how to be happy for others.

"It doesn't end there." the doctor says, a dark shadow casts over her like the messenger of death. "She's responsive. However, with her past medical history, the cardiogenic shock has done a number on her body. The next twenty-four hours are critical. We're aggressively monitoring her but only time will tell if her body can jump-start where it left off."

Shit. It's bad bad.

My gaze finds Aubrey and I swear I watch relief wash over her, maybe because I feel it too. I hate admitting it but I'm glad we don't have to see Aunt Emma right now. I'm still trying to accept Aubrey and me being siblings. I always felt like we were, but now it's real. I have a sister. And I don't know where to begin. You know, given our history and everything.

Aubrey's eyes meet mine and God fuck, I feel so bad for her. I think maybe, just maybe I understand her a little more now. I nod and ask permission to hug her. She throws her arms around me too.

I can't run anymore. She's my sister.

As mad as I am, I can't bring myself to flee on Aubrey. I've barely said a word to her since we left the hospital. We're all huddled around the coffee table, cosily drinking tea but no one's talking. We're all staring down into our cups and sniffling through the news.

As a family.

"Aubrey?"

She looks up at me, her eyes are watery and filled with worry. I hope not because of everything that led up to this but I doubt that is at the forefront of her mind right now. She's probably terrified of what life looks like for her now. Like what her plans are for herself now, what life looks like for her. Now I do have to be nice. She's hurting.

"I love you," I say.

Aubrey clenches her jaw, and her eyes well with tears like she's holding back from completely breaking down. I find my way to the other side of the table and offer a hug. When she leans in, she also lets out all of her pent-up grief and cries into my shoulder.

Mom and Dad hug us both.

This is everything she's ever wanted. A supportive family. I knew as a kid that she was envious of my parents and it weighed on her heavily that she didn't have a Dad, so letting her bond with mine was fine with me. Aubrey's always been a part of the family. The sister I never had,

The sister I always had, apparently.

"Do you guys mind if I spend the night?" Aubrey asks through her sobbing.

"Of course not honey, stay as long as you need."

Aubrey grabs a hold of my shoulders with both of her hands. "Are you okay with that?"

"Of course." I smile and throw all of my issues with her out the window. "You're family."