𝐁eyond the Lens - b.e

32 -

Ellie remained silent for a moment, staring at the ground in front of her, gently kicking a small stone with the tip of her shoe. Billie's question had surprised her, and not in a good way. She felt her heart weigh heavily at the thought of talking about her mother, about her family. This subject was like a scar she carefully avoided brushing against, even though the pain lingered, tucked away in a corner of her mind.

Billie, realizing she might have crossed a line, raised her hand gently, looking apologetic.

"Hey... I'm sorry, Ellie. If you don't want to talk about it, that's totally okay, really. I shouldn't have asked the question like that, I'm so stupid," she said in a soft, almost hesitant voice.

Ellie shook her head, trying to dispel the awkwardness that had settled in.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong," she replied. "It's just... complicated."

Billie said nothing, giving Ellie the space to decide if she wanted to continue. Ellie took a deep breath before letting out, almost in a whisper,

"My mom died a few years ago."

The weight of her words hung in the air, heavy and intense, before she continued.

"She left when I was still pretty young. It was cancer, quick, brutal. She didn't even have time to really fight it, you know? And since then, I've been living with this absence. It's like a constant void, a part of me that went with her."

Billie listened intently, her eyes shining with compassion. She wasn't trying to fill the silence, aware that this kind of confession didn't need an immediate response, just a listening ear.

"My dad," Ellie continued, crossing her arms over her chest as if to protect herself, "he's... let's say he's a distant man. Since my mom died, he's never really been there. Physically, yes, he sent me money every month like that could replace love or attention... But emotionally? He's nonexistent. We don't talk. He doesn't even try to get to know me. I could be a stranger, it wouldn't make a difference to him."

Ellie paused for a moment, staring at an invisible point in front of her, as if she was getting lost in her thoughts. Billie watched her, her brows slightly furrowed in sadness for her friend. The fact that Ellie had gone through this, almost alone, made Billie even more admiring of the strength she exuded every day.

"And then there's Livaï," Ellie said, her voice softening a bit, but tinged with melancholy. "He was my mom's dog, you know? He's all I have left of her. Every day, I tell myself that as long as he's here, it's like she hasn't totally left. He reminds me of everything she was, her gentleness, her love. So I hold onto him, because I don't know what I'll do the day he leaves me too."

Billie took a deep breath, her eyes glistening with sadness for Ellie. She now understood why Livaï was so important to her, why Ellie always spoke of him with such affection. He was more than just a dog, he was the last tangible connection to her mother.

"I'm really sorry, Ellie. For your mom, for your dad... it's hard to imagine what you've had to go through," Billie said softly. "But know that you're not alone. You can count on me now."

Ellie finally turned to her, her gaze a little softer, and she managed a fragile smile.

"Thank you, that really means a lot. I know I don't talk about this stuff often, but... it feels good to talk about it, in a way."

Billie gently placed her hand on Ellie's, a silent way of telling her she was there, that she understood, even if she hadn't experienced the same thing.

"And you know what? Livaï is still here, and he's happy because he has you. You're strong, Ellie, way stronger than you think," Billie added with an encouraging smile.

Ellie nodded, taking a deep breath to try to release some of the tension she had built up talking about this painful subject.

"It's just... complicated," Ellie continued. "Sometimes, I wish my dad showed a little more interest. Not for the money, but... for me, as a person. I feel like he erased me from his life as easily as wiping a chalkboard clean. And it hurts."

Billie frowned, her expression becoming more serious.

"No one should treat you like that. No matter the circumstances. You're an amazing person, and if your dad doesn't see that, he's the one missing out, not you."

Ellie let out a slight laugh, more nervous than joyful.

"That's nice of you to say, but sometimes I have a hard time believing it. I tell myself that if even my own dad doesn't care about me, maybe I'm not worth it."

Billie sat up abruptly, as if those words had hit her directly.

"No, don't say that crap," she said with unexpected conviction. "It's not you that's the problem, Ellie. It's him. He failed to be a father. Never think that you're not worth it. Because, trust me, you're worth so much more."

Ellie smiled shyly, touched by the intensity of Billie's reaction. It was strange, but somehow, this conversation was freeing her a little, as if she was leaving behind a piece of the weight she had carried for all these years.

"Thank you," she murmured.

The two girls fell back into silence, this time more peaceful, while Livaï and Shark continued to play in the park. Ellie felt grateful for this friendship with Billie, for being able to confide without being judged, for having someone who understood her.

Finally, after a few minutes, Billie changed the subject, wanting to lighten the mood.

"I think Livaï and Shark really found each other, some dogs are lucky," she said, laughing softly.

Ellie watched the two dogs, a smile slowly returning to her face.

"Yeah, they're going to be inconsolable when you leave," she replied.

The two girls stayed there for a while, enjoying the present moment, savoring the bond that was growing between them. It was one of those moments when, despite the pains of the past, everything felt a little lighter, a little more bearable. And for Ellie, that was all she needed.