Untitled Project

11. Grow from here

"Your parents loved you, Cian," Walter repeated.

Cian was feeling impatient. "I know," he said tersely.

"I need you to know that, and really know it, before you hear what I am about to tell you." Walter gave Cian a long, appraising look. "You and Bryn were the lights of their lives. I dearly hope they're alive, but I'm forced to assume they are not. I do not want to sully their memories... I do not want you to doubt the love you felt all your life. But, I aim to arm you with knowledge, starting with the truth about your parents."

"I'm ready, Walter." Cian tried not to let his impatience show this time. "I'm ready to hear whatever the truth is." He met Walter's eyes and hoped he looked braver than he felt.

"Okay." Walter looked puzzled, as if trying to decide where to begin. He cleared his throat. "Your mother was a brave, wise woman. She saw in your father all the qualities she wanted in a husband. He was kind, loyal, patient, and above all else, he was good. We were quite close, your mother and I. You already knew that. I know she told you that she spent a lot of time with me as a child, that I was her father's best friend. She even lived with me for a brief time, right before she met your father – did she ever tell you that?"

Cian's brow furrowed. "No..."

"She came to me, much like you did today. Looking for safety, for a place to hide. Seeking my advice."

"Why? Why did she need safety?" Cian pictured his mother standing on Walter's doorstep, scared and hurt.

"The same reason you do. Thorold." Walter grimaced just saying the name.

"My mother didn't know him... did she?" Cian's head reeled. She had never mentioned knowing him. Not when Cian ran away, not when he came home, and not at any other time in his memory. She had shuddered at the mention of him, and was mostly silent on the topic. Thorold had never mentioned knowing her, either. Cian repeated himself, voicing only one of the many questions in his head. "Did she?"

Walter nodded. "Yes. Quite well."

"What does 'quite well' mean exactly?"

"They were briefly engaged. Before Eleanor met your father, she was with Thorold." Walter looked nervous as he watched Cian's reaction.

"No..." Cian had no words to say besides the one. "No."

No! Aloud, the word was barely louder than a whisper, but in his head it was a bellowing scream. His mother and father had, in his mind, been together since, well, forever. He had never pictured either of them with anyone else. The thought felt wrong, like trying to imagine the impossible. Imagining his mother with Thorold was like trying to set fire to water. It just felt... wrong.

"Unfortunately, yes. He met her, and really entranced her. Her parents warned her, as did I, of his less-than-pleasant reputation. She was rebellious at that age, eager for adventure. Thorold promised her the world, and she accepted his proposal. Their engagement did not last long, but by the time she broke things off with him, she was fully aware of the extent of his darkness... and..." Walter hesitated, looking torn. "She was pregnant."

Cian did not need to voice his confusion. It was all over his face, flooding out of his eyes, screaming from his silent mouth.

"When Eleanor showed up on my doorstep, it was September, and she was six months pregnant." Walter met Cian's gaze, and nodded his head only slightly. "I took her in. She was afraid to go to her parents, afraid of their disapproval. She knew Thorold was searching for her, and trusted no one else. Three months later, as December began, you were born."