Five Years Ago | MILKCIIZE

Unopened Letters

Milk

"I don't believe this," Milk said, holding the unopened, five-year-old envelope. But she did. Damn it, she did. Standing in Ciize's old bedroom in the Peranza family house, she half expected one of her siblings to barge in. And right now, she couldn't even say she'd blame them.

They'd left Ciya back at the Inn. The owner's sixteen-year-old daughter was happy to babysit for 500 pesos. This was something she and Ciize had to deal with alone.

For years, she'd told herself that she and Ciya had been lucky to escape Ciize. Ciize had divorced her and given their child away. She hadn't wanted either of them in her life. And she'd made peace with that long ago. Now she was forced to face the idea that all of it had been a lie. That her own mother had orchestrated everything from behind the scenes. "Damn her."

"Huh? Damn who?" Ciize's voice was insistent, cracking as if she were about to snap. All that was holding her together were the tight bands of anger Milk could practically see.

Milk's hand tightened on the sealed envelope, and her gaze fixed on the familiar handwriting. "My mother."

It cost her to admit this. To acknowledge that Myrna Anderson would go to such lengths to get her daughter away from a woman she'd always considered unsuitable. Rage swept through Milk like a wildfire, burning hotter and hotter with no way to stop it.

"Your—" Ciize stared at her for a moment before stomping toward the window that overlooked the front lawn. A tall Narra tree stood in the yard, its thick branches forming a canopy of leaves that danced in the wind. Below, the soft music of a wind chime played in the breeze.

While Ciize stared out the window, Milk watched her. Five years and she looked even better than she remembered. She tried not to think about Ciize, but with Ciya looking so much like her mom, it was hard not to.

Those few weeks of their marriage were the only time in her life that she'd let go. At twenty-three, she discovered passion and the freedom of being herself with Ciize.

Ciize had literally knocked her over the first time they met, trying to catch a football. When Ciize helped her up, Milk looked into her pale brown eyes and fell in love all over again.

Unfortunately, they were so excited that they didn't see the problems ahead.

Now, the past was coming back to make things worse.

She felt like she was in a tough spot as she looked around. She had only been in this room—Ciize's room—once before, when they told her parents about their marriage.

The room hadn't changed much. The walls were still dark green, the bookshelves were a lighter green, and her bed had a quilt that looked homemade. Posters of her favorite girl groups were still on the walls. She remembered teasing her about those posters, but Ciize had said they were her way of dreaming about happy places.

But Ciize had been her biggest dream, and look where that had led them.

She clenched her teeth and said, "You sent me a letter, and my mom sent it back to you with the divorce papers." Saying it out loud didn't make it any easier. "When you signed and sent them back, my mom sent them to me—with your signature." She ran her hand through her hair, feeling helpless. "I thought you wanted the divorce."

She laughed roughly, and it hurt. "Perfect."

Milk walked up behind her, close enough to touch, but she didn't. "She tricked us both."

"And Ciya?" Her voice was full of emotions. She kept staring at the leaves outside, unable to look at Milk. Her hands were clenching and unclenching, as if she was looking for something to hold onto but couldn't find it.