Trust Me. I'm Lying - (SLOWLY EDITING)

One That Broke Too Much: Chapter 31

"It's all about love. We are either in love, dreaming about love, wishing for it, recovering from it, or reflecting for it."

—Michael Buble.

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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE:

One That Broke Too Much.

In my head, I was counting.

Counting back days, weeks, months, and years. Counting back excuses and being home alone and doors opening in the night. I was trying to recall listening to chatter over a whispered conversation in the dead of night. Counting. Again and again and again. Trying to make sense of something I made myself not think about in its entirety. Something I knew would happen the moment I had realized what was happening.

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Mom extend her left hand for Mia to see. A ring goes in that specific finger of the left hand because it is only there in the whole body where there is a vein that connects directly to the heart. Mia had probably realized the same instant I did, upon seeing the ring she hadn't been waiting for but had hoped for anyway. My sister squealed with happiness.

But I wasn't paying attention to her. I was just looking at Mr. Langley, who was wearing an expression I had seen and knew all too well. Studying me up, trying to read me. Trying to figure out what I was thinking. It was bound to be rather hard, though. Even I didn't know what I was thinking.

In my head, I was screaming.

Mia was never made to go to a session with Mr. Langley. She hadn't been made to go to his office every day for a whole year. She never noticed the way his eyes wrinkled at the edges when he smiled. She never noticed that, after a while, he had stopped taking notes. She never noticed who spotless his office really was, or how much he did seem to care for that small collection of cacti lining his window seal. She had never realized he never failed to ask how Mom was.

But I had.

"Why didn't you two say anything?"

The words were out before I had even remotely noticed I opened my mouth. I tore my gaze from nothing in particular and looked at the only two adults who meant something for me. Breathe. I knew from the look on Mom's face this was not going to end well, whether I had spoken or not. I knew her too well.

I didn't express the same reaction as Mia. I was not happy. I should be happy. I should never question her. Because that was in truth how you lived. Head down, and don't question things that should be explained to you. And my tone of the question had not been okay for the present situation.

There was no pounding heart, not accelerated breathing, no shaking hands, no biting lips. A numbness had settled over me, and the phrase listening to the sound of silence came to my head. Perhaps that was why I wasn't crying yet. Perhaps that was why an anxiety attack had not begun. I couldn't hear anything. I couldn't feel anything but numbness.

And I just stared at Mom.

"Excuse me?" Mom's voice was as soft and lethal as one could be. Erick used to be terrified of that voice. Used to? He probably still was. He had always kept his head down. My hands balled into fists.

The train of thought directed towards by older brother starting accelerating. Did he know? But then I thought of something else. I had told him what I saw. He'd known. Of course, Erick would have told me if Mom had told him beforehand. Because we don't keep things from one another, my Erick and I.