my professor, my obsession || cillian murphy

chapter twenty nine

"Clementine, what's going on?"

"I've been lying to you," I began, my voice wavering with apprehension. His silence probed me to continue. "I didn't want you to worry, but it's gotten to a point where I can't keep it bottled up any longer." Taking a deep breath, I confessed, "Things are worse than you think."

"How much worse?" he inquired, his voice edged with a mixture of concern and anticipation.

Feeling the weight of my burden lifting with each uttered word, I resolved to divulge the truth. "My mom," I began, my tone stark and unfiltered, "she's an addict, I guess..." As the confession hung heavy in the air, a sense of relief washed over me. "I haven't even confided in David, and now he's furious with me. And my dad... Well, he's not too pleased with me either for forcing him to tell David. And as for my mom..." My voice trailed off, choked with emotion. "She hasn't reached out, not even once. I'm starting to wonder if she's even alive," I confessed, each word laden with the weight of my anguish and uncertainty.

Cillian's prolonged silence stretched on, sending tendrils of anxiety creeping up my spine. I desperately hoped that my lies hadn't damaged our relationship.

"Why keep this from me?" His voice broke the silence, its calmness only amplifying my anxiety. "You never needed to hide anything from me, Clementine. I'm always here for you, no matter what," he reassured.

But despite his comforting words, uncertainty gnawed at me. Did he truly mean it? The fear of losing him loomed large in my mind, overshadowing any semblance of rational thought.

Honestly, I couldn't be certain. The thought of losing him terrified me beyond measure. Selfishly, I wanted to go back to school and be with him. Those fleeting weeks we shared before all this family chaos felt like a distant dream now. If only things could have been different, if only I could turn back time.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion, "I just... I didn't want to burden you with my problems."

"Clementine, listen to me," Cillian interjected, his tone firm yet gentle. "You are anything but a burden. Please don't speak of yourself in such a negative way."

His words, though comforting, only served to deepen the ache in my chest. Tears welled up, threatening to spill over as I struggled to contain my emotions. "David... he said I was just like them," I confessed, the weight of his accusation heavy on my heart.

"Just like your parents?" Cillian's voice held a hint of disbelief, his shock palpable in the air between us. The mere mention of my parents, of their struggles and failures, felt like reopening wounds that had never truly healed.

"Yep," I spat out bitterly, my voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and sorrow. "I kept it from him, this whole mess with my mom's hidden drug addiction. And I only found out about it myself less than a month ago!" Tears of anger and sadness streamed down my cheeks, betraying the storm of emotions raging within me. As I poured out my frustrations and tears over the phone, I could almost sense Cillian's empathy through the line. There was a brief pause, followed by a gentle sigh on his end.

"Clementine," his voice came through the receiver, soft and steady, "I wish I could be there with you right now." His words carried a warmth that miraculously eased the pain. "You shouldn't have to shoulder this alone."

"You could be here," I mumbled wistfully, recalling the conversation we'd had not too long ago about the possibility of him visiting. "Remember what we talked about? You visiting? That could actually happen! New Year's Eve is just a few days away!"

The silence that followed on the other end of the line was deafening, and I felt a sinking sensation in my chest. Had I overstepped? Was I asking for too much?