heartstrings

Chapter 37

Evangeline
February 26th 2018

Matt texted me earlier today with the news I'd been waiting for: Nic went to school again, he's been doing so good, he's been putting in so much effort lately.

After days of not seeing him, this was exactly the kind of news I needed, he's still going to school, this didn't mean that he's doing better, but he's trying and that's what I need right now.

As soon as I got home from school, I was practically vibrating with excitement.

I ran upstairs to my room, quickly rifling through my closet to find a sweater and sweatpants to wear. I wanted to wear something comfortable, but still nice, not like my jeans and tight long sleeve I wore for school.

Once I was dressed, I could barely contain my eagerness to leave.

I headed downstairs, ready to rush out the door and head over to his house. But just as I reached for the door handle, Mum's voice stopped me.

"Eve, wait a minute! We need to talk to you for a second, come to the living room." she said, her tone unusually serious.

I felt a wave of frustration.
I was so close to finally being able to see Nic again, and now this.

But I knew better than to ignore her. With a sigh, I followed her and Dad to the living room.
The air felt heavy with unspoken tension, and I could tell that this wasn't going to be a quick chat.

Mum sat down and started talking almost immediately, her expression a mix of concern and disapproval.

"We don't know Nic well enough, so I'm not going to judge his choices, but from what we've observed, he doesn't seem to be putting much effort into your relationship. It worries me that you're investing so much into someone who isn't fully committed to you. You deserve someone who genuinely cares about you and is willing to put in the effort."

Her words were like a slap in the face. It felt like she was dismissing everything that Nic and I had together.

They didn't see the late-night talks, the amount of times he carried me out of parties passed out drunk, the way he listened to me, or the moments we shared that made me feel understood and valued.

To them, it probably looked like just another teenage relationship, but for me, it was much more, I love Nic.

I took a deep breath, trying to contain my anger. "That's right, you don't know him, and you are in no position to judge him. He's hurt, and he needs someone, so don't you dare dismiss him like that, unless you know what it feels like.

Dad, sitting next to Mum, added with a tone that was almost annoyed, "We know enough."

"No dad, you don't know! I love him! And you can't change that."

That was it. I felt a rush of anger and frustration that I couldn't hold back any longer.

They didn't understand the depth of what Nic and I had.
They only saw the surface and were quick to judge, and no amount of fighting could change that.

I wanted to shout and tell them how wrong they were, but I knew they wouldn't understand.

They never will, especially dad.

I grabbed my bag, feeling tears well up in my eyes.

My chest was tight with a mixture of anger and sadness. I tried to keep my voice steady, but it was hard.

My parents stood there, their expressions hard, lacking compassion.

I mumbled something incoherent, turned on my heel, and stormed out of the house. Each step felt heavy, like I was dragging the weight of their disapproval with me.

I grabbed my bag and walked out, I didn't look around.

This could be a problem for later.