Rekindled Flames | ONC 2024

Chapter 2: A Craving for Peace and Serenity

My rage grew inside of me to mask my heartache, my sadness, and my bewilderment. My fists tightened. The sight of my journals burning only seemed to add fuel to my fire. I couldn’t breathe right. I couldn’t think right. All I knew was that a person I had put all of my trust in and who knew just how important those journals were to me had done the unthinkable. 

I opened my mouth to speak or scream — I wasn’t sure which — but the words evaporated before I could huff out a breath. Eyes made of stone stared daggers at me, auburn hair glowing red in the hue of the flames that lit up the pitch black yard. She tapped the match book on her palm and then reached for another one as if the fire wasn’t big enough for her liking. I watched with wide eyes, but I knew the damage was already done. I was not salvaging any piece of those journals as much as that fact hurt.

She swiped the match across the rough part. We watched it ignite with fury. Then it dropped and that unbearable heartache was back, but it was accompanied with something else that time. 

Hatred.

- - - - -

“How was the end of school? Did everything go smoothly?” I asked Millie after we sat down for dinner at the resort’s restaurant. She had ordered penne rigate and I had ordered a simple chicken sandwich. We really did contrast each other. 

“Yeah, school was fine. I think my marks were good,” she answered with a nonchalant shrug. “I’m just glad it’s over because it’s always a long wait for summer.”

I smiled. “I bet the break will be nice.”

Her eyes dashed up to mine, the hand clutching her fork freezing mid-air. “Mama, three or four day visits for halloween, christmas, and my birthday make me crave summer so much more.”

My smile faltered and I tilted my head to the side, her honest and vulnerable words catching my full attention. 

“If I… I guess if I saw you nearly every day then I wouldn’t be begging for summer to come. I like school, but not being separated from you,” she said. A thirteen year old shouldn’t have to say those words, but she did. Declan and I had done this to her, but we couldn’t stay together. Sometimes, I found myself wondering why I hadn’t moved to Italy with them.

Work. Family. Friends.

“I’m sorry, hun.” I put my sandwich down, my gaze drifting around the booth. The chipped wooden table top became the most interesting thing to look at as I articulated an appropriate response. What was I supposed to say to that? “I’ll make it up to you this summer. I promise.”

Millie’s eyebrows knitted together, but she took the answer with a nod, going back to her pasta. I couldn’t help wondering if we were thinking the same thing. Was it really something I could make up for?

Before touching my sandwich, the twisting in my gut made me try again. “I know that may not be the answer you’re looking for… but we’re going to have a great time on this trip and a great time for the rest of the summer. Let’s just be in the present, okay?”

I added a smile afterwards.

Great. Cauterizing it will work just fine.

Still, she nodded, her features relaxing a little. “Okay. I guess you’re right.”

We continued to eat and I ignored the nagging feeling that I had just poorly patched up a wound that was going to grow bigger overtime. I would talk to Declan about it and we would figure out a way to make these circumstances easier on Millie. There wasn’t much we could do that we weren’t already doing, but clearly Millie needed something more.