Secret Desires

✧ 28: The Damage Done

✧ December 25th

        Slowly I rise from the bed. I feel as if the world is slipping from under me. I'm standing here and yet, I am falling.

        Everything I have known has been a lie.

        I sway as I bump into the dresser, trying to put distance between me and my mother. My mother. I can't even look at her. I don't know the woman sitting on the bed. My mind is reeling at her confession.

        My father never intended to leave me behind. He never intended to sell fentanyl. He never abandoned us without a word. He was never the bad guy. My mother wasn't trying to protect me. She lied. She lied about everything. She has lied to me my whole life.

        "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry." I hold a hand up as I turn away from her. There is no room for her apologies. They are meaningless and far too late. I lean on the dresser for support, my eyes on the door. I feel like I'm being suffocated right now. The air in the room is thin and toxic. I'm not sure how much longer I can take being in the same space as her. One of us needs to go. I inch toward the door and I hear her move.

        "Stay away from me," I snap at her. My voice is near guttural as I try to compose myself. It's impossible though. I glare at her over my shoulder, my legs nearly giving out under me. All my weight seems to be on this dresser ledge. She's standing a few steps away from me, her hand reaching. It drops back to her side when I narrow my eyes at it.

        "Tell me how to make this right," she begs. I hear the plea and devastation in her voice, but it does not affect me.

        "Did you know she was in Velthorne this whole time?" I'm surprised I have some control over my voice. I adjust my hold on the dresser when my arm shakes. I'm struggling to hold myself up. My mother starts to fidget with a loose strand on the hem of her shirt. I ignore her pregnant belly, trying to forget about the baby but of course, it's impossible. Her bottom lip quivers as she nods.

        "A few years after your dad was arrested," she struggles to say. She closes her eyes as if it'll make any of this easier. I see a tear slip but I do not feel sorry for her. "I had been working in Velthorne and came across an article in the newspaper. The title caught my attention. It was her name in big bold letters. Marina Alverez. Mari... She had once been a local so... It was her obituary."

        "She died?" I blurt out in disbelief. She nods with shame, her eyes opening to plead in my direction.

        "I looked more into what happened and... When your dad was sent to Pennsylvania, Mari fell into a depression back in Chicago. She started using again and became unfit to care for her daughter. She sent Ava to live with Mari's sister back home in Velthorne. And soon after... She overdosed."

        I cover my mouth with a shaky hand as tears well. I barely hear the small whimper that escapes me. My mother takes another step toward me but I push away from the dresser.

        "No!" I yell at her. I'm against the wall, sliding to the floor as I point a finger at her. I don't want her anywhere near me. If I had the strength I would have bolted from this room already. But my legs are weak. Every word she has said has practically paralyzed me. She takes a few steps back, her hands flat on her stomach as she starts to cry.

        "I have lived with this regret since the day I made that phone call." I drop my hand as I look away from her to the door. I can't look at her anymore. It hurts. Everything she says hurts. Nothing she says will erase the damage done. "I wish I could take it all back, but I can't. I'm so sorry, Blair. Please. I'm sorry." I still don't look at her. Instead, I pull my phone out and fumble with making a call.