Ungullible

Chapter 16: Relinquished Hate

I've often wondered about the first thing I ever hated. Maybe it was a person, or a situation, a moment where something inside me snapped and I decided that I didn't like it, didn't want anything to do with it. But then, as I grew older, I realized that hate is more complicated than that. Sometimes, the things we despise can shift into something we cherish, and the things we love can twist into something we loathe. It's a strange thing, hate. It's not a permanent fixture; it's a feeling, a momentary storm that swirls up inside you and demands to be acknowledged.

But today, hate didn't feel like something I was grappling with. Today, it was fear. The fear of the unknown. Fear of meeting my half-sister, Bianca. I hadn't felt this anxious in a long time, not since the days when my father's presence felt like a heavy shadow looming over me. It was the kind of anxiety that made your chest tighten and your breath come in shallow gasps. The thought of confronting the truth about my mother; the truth I had been avoiding for years, as enough to twist my stomach into knots.

I didn't know if I was ready. But I had to know. The torment of wondering whether my mother had abandoned me for another life, whether she'd chosen someone else over me, was unbearable. Yet, at the same time, a small voice in the back of my mind whispered that maybe the truth wouldn't be kind. What if it wasn't the kind of story I could accept?

I sat at the café, my nerves wrapped around me like a second skin. Jason was beside me, his quiet presence offering a semblance of comfort, but nothing could calm the fluttering panic inside me. Abbie, on my other side, was absorbed in her phone, tapping away without a care. I glanced out the window, watching people move past, each of them living lives that weren't mine, their faces serene, while mine was tangled in knots.

Bianca had told me I wasn't her only sibling. There were two more; Frank, who was eighteen, and Benson, seventeen. Meeting them felt like another weight on my shoulders, another unknown to confront. The more I learned, the more tangled the story became.

Then, my phone buzzed. I looked down and saw Bianca's name on the screen. My heart skipped a beat. I looked at Jason, mouthing, It's her. He nodded, a soft reassurance that didn't do much to quell my nerves, but I appreciated the effort.

I answered the phone, my voice trembling despite  my attempt to steady it. "Hello?"

"Hi, Novia, it's me. We're here. Where are you sitting?" Bianca's voice was warm, but the undertone of nervousness I could hear mirrored my own.

I turned around, my eyes searching the café. Through the glass shield of the entrance, I saw her; Bianca, standing there, tall and confident, with two tall figures behind her. They were shrouded in the silhouette of the sunlight coming through the door, and for a moment, all I could do was stare.

"I'm waving at you," I said, lifting my hand, my heart pounding as our eyes met. Bianca smiled, her expression full of warmth that somehow made the tension in my chest loosen, just a little.

I turned back to Jason, the nervous energy coursing through me. I couldn't help but take a shaky breath.

"It's going to be okay," Jason said softly, his hand slipping into mine, both of his hands encircling mine. His smile, though small, was steady. "They'll love you, just like we all do. Whatever the truth is, we'll get through it together."

I nodded, the words settling into my heart like a quiet promise. Jason was right. We would face it together.

Bianca and the boys approached, and I stood up, my legs unsteady, betraying my nerves. Bianca's smile was wide, and her presence, even from the moment she stepped through the door, felt familiar; like I should have known her all my life. The boys followed behind her, their faces serious, unreadable.