Her Awakening

Chapter 13: Slipping through my fingers

The house felt unusually quiet without the twins. Melissa stood by the kitchen window, watching the empty backyard where Melody and Markie would normally be running around. The weekend had a strange stillness to it. Joshua's parents, who rarely had time for visits due to their restaurant business, had finally cleared their schedules to take the twins for a few days. They owned a cozy but busy African restaurant, a family legacy they'd built from the ground up. It kept them away from their grandchildren more often than Melissa liked, but this weekend they were free. The twins had squealed in delight when she dropped them off, already planning what treats they'd get from the restaurant.

Now, back at home, Melissa couldn't help but notice the emptiness. The silence was oddly oppressive. She sat down at the kitchen table, laptop in front of her, and opened her email. Another wave of feedback for her latest book flooded her inbox. She skimmed through the reviews, her heart sinking as she read them.

"Lacks the spark of her previous work."

"Where's the romance? The connection between the characters feels flat this time."

Melissa sighed, her finger hovering over the mouse. This book was supposed to be her best yet. She had poured herself into it, even during the chaos of motherhood and her strained relationship with Joshua. But it seemed like her readers could sense the change in her. That missing spark they were talking about—it mirrored her own life.

She leaned back in her chair, staring at the screen but not really seeing it. Things with Joshua were... different. They were still talking, still going through the motions of marriage, but the connection wasn't there. After the argument in the car, they had fallen into a comfortable but distant routine. Joshua went to work, came home at a reasonable hour, and spent time with the family. But Melissa knew better. He was still visiting Emma.

Despite his efforts to maintain boundaries, the weight of Emma's presence in their marriage lingered. It wasn't just about the visits anymore; it was the fact that Joshua hadn't fully moved on from her influence. Melissa tried not to let it get to her, but it gnawed at her, especially when he'd come home with a casual "Emma said this" or "Emma did that," slipping her name into conversation like it was nothing.

With a frustrated sigh, she closed her laptop and picked up her phone. Without really thinking, she opened her texts and scrolled to the last conversation with Jalal. He had become her lifeline lately, someone she could vent to about her writing frustrations without judgement. She needed his advice now more than ever.

Melissa: Hey, have you seen the reviews for voices of the forgotten? I should've listened to you.

She hit send and stared at the phone, waiting for the little typing dots to appear. A minute later, they did.

Jalal: there was more positive reviews than negative ones Princess why are you so focused on the negative?

Melissa frowned at the screen. Jalal had a way of seeing through her.

Melissa: Things have been... complicated. I don't think that's it, though.

Jalal: Writers can't help but pour their lives into their work. Maybe there's something missing in your life that's coming through in your writing.

Melissa sighed. Jalal always knew how to cut to the core of things. He was right, of course. She just didn't want to admit it.

While she mulled over his words, the house remained quiet, except for the occasional creak of floorboards. Without the twins, without their joyful energy filling the rooms, the silence felt heavier, more pointed.

Later in the afternoon, Melissa's parents came by. They were visiting to help plan the twins' upcoming fifth birthday . The twins were excited about the party, and her parents—particularly her mother—were determined to give them the most extravagant event imaginable.

"We must celebrate my baby's well oh" her mother said, standing in the living room with a notepad in hand. "They want a mix of Frozen and Paw Patrol. We can have a real ice sculpture of Elsa for Ama, and a Paw Patrol one for Kwame". Her mum suggested using the children's Ghanaian names.

"Mum, that's too much," Melissa protested gently, trying to hide her exasperation. "They're turning five, not eighteen. We don't need an ice sculpture."

"Nonsense," her mother waved her off. "They're my grand babies they can have it."

Her father, sitting on the couch, chimed in. "I have already called the bakery. They're going to make separate cakes for each theme. It's going to be fantastic."

Melissa smiled at her parents' enthusiasm but knew she had to draw the line somewhere. "I appreciate it, really, but we don't need to go overboard. The twins just want a fun party with their friends. Let's keep it simple."

Her mother reluctantly agreed, though Melissa could tell she was already plotting something bigger behind the scenes.

By the time her parents left, the house felt even quieter. She flopped down on the couch, trying to focus on a book, but her mind kept wandering back to Joshua, Emma, and the void in her writing that her readers had noticed.

Then, her phone buzzed.

She glanced down at it, expecting another email or a text from her parents letting her know they got home safely but instead, it was Jalal.

Jalal: You free?

Melissa blinked at the message. It was mid-afternoon. What could he want?

Melissa: Yeah, I'm free. What's up?

The next message came quickly.

Jalal: Come outside.

Melissa's heart skipped a beat. She put down her book and walked to the front door, peeking through the window. Sure enough, there was Jalal's car parked across the street, waiting for her.