Won't - Mark Tuan Fanfic (Sequel to Can't)

27 - Mark! Don't Even Think About It!

My head is pounding, a sharp odor stings my nose, a sour taste in my tongue. I hear someone sniffling beside me and a cold and damp towel wiping my face then my neck. 

"I'm really sorry honey." My mom is crying as she gently rubs me with the towel. 

I keep my eyes closed. "Mom. Stop crying, please." I say, feeling bad as I remember my outburst last night. I bet she hasn't slept yet. I reach for her hand on my face and hold on to it. I put a hand over my eyes as I open them, to block the light from shining straight to my eyes. I turn to my side, to her, and bite my lip as I see her face. I feel like the worst child ever, letting my mom cry like this. "I'm sorry." I touch her cheek and wipe the tears there. "I was just .... drunk last night. I didn't mean to..."

"No." She says, the corner of her lips turning up a bit. "It's my fault. I'm sorry."

Though the room spins when I sit up, I manage to hug her. "I love you, mom."

"And I love you more, honey." She embraces me tight and kisses the top of my head. "We're gonna get through this. I know we will."

"No more lies, mom." I sob. 

"No more lies. I promise, honey." She cries, too. "I was scared. You went missing and the next thing I know you were shot. I didn't know what to do. When the doctor told me you had amnesia, I grabbed the chance. I didn't want you to feel that pain again, honey. It was wrong of me. I made it worse."

I continue crying. Now that I'm sober and fearing for our lives, I rue the time I even thought of hating. It was very childish of me, and I regret that. 

I pull away from the embrace. "How's dad?" 

"He's fine." She smiles weakly, brushing my now damp hair away from my face and tucking it behind my ear. 

"But, it's not over, is it?"

"No." She inhales, "no, it's not."

"I'm really sorry, mom," I say again. 

She nods, smiling. "It's ok, honey." She rubs her hands on my shoulders, "Let's go have breakfast, shall we?"

"Wait." I grab her hand, letting her sit back down. "Can we trust them?" 

"I don't know." She shakes her head. "But, we don't have a choice. Let's just trust your dad, ok?"

I nod. 

We go down to the dining room where almost everyone is gathered except my dad and Mark. 

"Where's dad?" I whisper to my mom as we take our seats around the table with the others. 

"They're up there," she points towards the stairs, "they're talking."

"With Mark?"

She nods.

After breakfast, and they're still not down, I make my way upstairs. I creep towards the door where soft voices are coming from. I furrow my brows as I plant my ears on the wood. There's another person in there with them. Not just one, but two. Is that Uncle Ed? 

Then it becomes silent. 

I jump when the door suddenly opens, taking me by surprise and I almost stumble inside the room. 

"Cristina?!?" Mark catches me just in time. 

I grin up at him then at the three other people in the room, feeling my cheeks reddening, being caught eavesdropping. The other man catches my attention. It's Mark's dad. Uncle Ed's face doesn't escape me either. What happened to him?