Kate Fleur's Love Soup

3. Why?

I stood there, frozen like a deer in headlights, as Henry and Zane engaged in a silent standoff. Henry's expression was pure confusion, like he was trying to solve a math problem that just didn't add up.

Just as things were getting awkward, Sancha jumped out of nowhere and grabbed Henry's arm. "Henry, I need your help. It's urgent" she said, pulling him away.

Henry looked at me, then back at sancha, clearly unsure what was going on. "Uh, sure" he said, following sanch down the hall.

As they disappeared around the corner, I let out a sign of relief. Crisis averted. For now

Zane turned to me and raised an eyebrow "You're not getting in?" He asked, nodding towards my room.

I nodded. Zane opened the door and gestured for me to enter. I did. I was Anxious and didn't know what to do next with him.

I quickly turned around, wincing in pain as my head spun. But I didn't care, I just wanted to face Zane and try to explain...something. Anything.

But before I could even open my mouth, Zane spoke up. "I know you don't remember me, nor the past 6 years," he said, his voice gentle. "You don't have to worry about explaining things, Kate. I know. I know everything."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, mixed with a healthy dose of confusion. He knows? What did he know?

Zane smiled softly. "See me as your friend, Kate. If you need anything, call me. I'll be here."

And with that, he turned and left, leaving me standing alone in my room, feeling like I'd just been punched in the gut.

I sank down onto the bed, trying to process what had just happened. Zane know everything? Like everything? Really?

I watched Zane leave. He was weird, but kind. And I felt...something. It was too complicated to put into words.

Just then, my mind shifted gears. "My phone," I muttered to myself. "Where's my phone? I must have had a phone."

I searched every nook and cranny, tossing things around, but my phone was nowhere to be found. I was getting more and more frustrated by the minute. Where could it be?

As I rummaged through my room, I didn't notice the mess I was making. That was until Sancha walked in and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Kate, what are you doing? Why is the room such a mess?" she asked, taking in the scattered clothes and books.

I looked around, finally noticing the chaos I had created. I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me.

"Hey , do you know where my phone is?" I asked, feeling a sense of desperation creeping in.

Sancha hesitated, "Well, we can look for it tomorrow, okay?"

But I was insistent, "No, I want it now. Right now."

Sancha's expression turned firm, "Kate, you're too tired. Let's call it a day, you need rest. Go sleep."

But I could sense she was hiding something. Her evasive tone, her avoiding eye contact...it all screamed secrecy.

I felt my frustration boil over, "See, Sancha, I don't know what's going on, but I'm too tired, too angry, and too confused. I feel like crying. Please, just tell me. I can see you're trying to hide something. Just be honest with me."

Sancha's expression faltered, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of guilt. But then, her mask slipped back into place, and she said, "Kate, really, there's nothing to tell. You're just stressed. Go sleep, we'll talk in the morning."

But I knew she was lying. And that realization only added fuel to my growing desperation. "Can't you just understand what I'm asking? You're hiding too much. You haven't even said anything about Mom, even when I've asked you several times. You're so different...I'm trying to cope with things, and you...?"

Sancha's expression changed, her voice rising in a rare show of emotion. "Do you think it's only hard for you?" she asked, her words laced with hurt. "It's all too weird for me too...my only sister, who abandoned me and our parents for 5 years, suddenly shows up and is concerned about them? It's frustrating me too."

Her voice cracked, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears. "I feel uncomfortable being here with you, talking to you...you feel like a stranger to me, more than a sister."

I felt like I'd been stabbed in the heart, a searing ache that left me breathless. "W-what?" I stammered, my mind reeling. "What are you saying?"

I swayed, my vision blurring, and sat down on the bed, trying to process Sancha's words. But they were like a jumbled puzzle, impossible to decipher.

Sancha's voice was laced with anger and sadness, "You've forgotten, but we haven't. It's been more than 5 years, Kate. Mom still talks about you, cries about you...Dad's sadness has turned to anger, and no one's allowed to mention your name in the house. I told them about your accident, but Dad just asked, 'Who's Kate?'"

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut, my memories - or lack thereof - a constant reminder of my failure. I didn't remember leaving, didn't remember my family's pain. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I whispered, "I...I don't remember."

Sancha's expression softened, but her voice remained laced with hurt, "I know, Kate. But we do. And it's hard to see you, to talk to you, when you don't remember anything."

Sancha's voice cracked as she continued, "I tried to stay in touch with you, Kate. I used to come see you every day, even though you treated me like a stranger. I didn't care, I just wanted to stay connected to you in whatever way possible."

She took a deep breath, her eyes welling up with tears, "But then I met your boyfriends, one after another. I thought they were the reason you left us, that they had changed you somehow. So I stopped coming to see you. I felt like you had completely changed, like you were no longer my sister."

Sancha's voice dropped to a whisper, "But then Margaret told me about your accident, and...and I had to come. I had to see you, to make sure you were okay."

I felt trapped in myself, like I wanted to burst out crying but couldn't. I hated myself.

Sancha continued, "And your phone, your phone and belongings, they're in the locker Margaret gave me before she left for Germany. I couldn't take it home because Dad would obviously see it, so I kept them in the locker. Don't worry, I'll bring it to you."

And with that, Sancha left, leaving me alone with my thoughts and emotions. I felt numb, like I was drowning in a sea of uncertainty. I didn't know what to think or feel, or how to process everything Sancha had told me. But my mind was consumed by a single question: Why?