Finding Us (Interracial Romance)

A Glimpse of Hope

Jeremy

The sun dips lower in the sky, casting a warm, amber glow over the yard. I watch through the living room window as Athena runs around with Annaliese, her laughter clear even from inside. Annaliese's giggles are a perfect harmony, a melody of pure joy. My chest tightens at the sight. The two of them, free of whatever burdens the rest of us carry, look like happiness in motion.

Mom steps out onto the patio, a wide smile stretching across her face as she calls out, "Careful, Annaliese! Don't let your mother trick you into running laps!" Athena shoots her a playful glare, and I can't help the smirk that tugs at my lips. It's moments like this that I wish I could join them. But I stay rooted to the spot, watching from a distance.

"You know, if you stare long enough, you might develop x-ray vision," Dad's voice rumbles behind me. I jump a bit, surprised he's snuck up on me. He chuckles as he steps into my line of sight and nudges my shoulder. "Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead." I gesture to the couch, and he sinks into it, the leather creaking under his weight.

For a moment, neither of us says anything. We just watch the scene outside. Mom has joined the chase, her laughter mixing with Annaliese's. I let out a quiet sigh.

"Athena's and your birthday's coming up," Dad starts, breaking the silence. He's always had a way of easing into conversations like this, testing the waters.

"Yeah. Thirty-one," I reply, trying to sound casual, but there's a heaviness to the number that I can't ignore. Thirty-one, and here I am, a spectator in my own family.

Dad nods slowly. "Hard to believe. You know, when you two were little, we could barely tell where you ended and Athena began. Both of you were always together, always scheming." A grin spreads across his face as he recalls the past. "Like the time you both decided the dog needed a makeover and painted his fur blue."

I chuckle despite myself. "Athena said it was artistic expression. I said it was her idea."

"And your mom nearly lost her mind," Dad adds and we both laugh. The memory feels warm and distant, like a fireplace on a cold night.

But the laughter fades and there's a familiar ache that follows. I shift uncomfortably. "Things were easier back then," I say, staring out at Athena, who now has Annaliese hoisted over her shoulder, spinning her around.

Dad's eyes narrow slightly as he studies me. "What's going on, Jeremy?"

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. It's easier to keep my gaze fixed outside than to meet his eyes. "I've tried, Dad. I really have. I've apologized more times than I can count, but she's still angry. She can't forgive me for believing Hannah's lies."

Dad leans back, the couch creaking again and folds his arms. "That was a rough time, for everyone. But Jeremy, holding on to guilt won't get you anywhere. You know, you and Athena were like two peas in a pod. Just because there's distance now, it doesn't mean that the bond is gone."

"I know," I say, voice tight. "But she's stubborn. I messed up and she's not going to let it go."

"She's stubborn, alright," Dad agrees, a twinkle in his eye. "But she's also your sister. That bond isn't just erased because of one mistake. Have you thought about giving her more time, and meanwhile, focusing on your own peace?"

I raise an eyebrow. "My peace?"

"Yeah. You know, turning things over to God. Letting Him work in both of you. When's the last time you did that? Prayed, read your Bible?"

I look down, a wave of guilt crashing over me. "It's been a while."

"Figured as much," Dad says, not unkindly. He reaches over and pats my shoulder. "Jeremy, sometimes fixing things with others starts with fixing things within yourself. Remember what Matthew 6:14-15 says? 'For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.'"