Message in a Bottle

Rejected (38)

Chapter 38

*Ciara's POV*

I can already spot my mother's lanky appearance. Her and my father stand by the front door, both gazing at me with their icy eyes. My mom looks stressed out, it seems as if she's lost a lot of weight since the last time I've seen her, which had to be over two years ago. My mother has always been on the chubby side, but now it almost looks as if she's anorexic.

My father's appearance has remained the same. His grey hair could be spotted from a mile away. They look so old and scrawny together, and miserable.

I stand there awkwardly, my hand placed on the countertop. I couldn't help but stare at how horrible they looked, when I was younger they were always so formal and well dressed. They look like rag dolls.

"Ciara, we've missed you," my mom says lightly. She takes a few steps towards me until she was directly in front of me, her arms wrap around me in an awkward hug. I don't do anything except stand there, I didn't want to hug her back. One thing that's the same about her is that damn perfume, the lemony aroma that makes me sick hasn't seem to of changed yet.

My arms hang at my sides, I shut my eyes and count the long seconds until the gesture was over. When she pulls away, I count a full five Mississippi's, and see hurt is written all over her wrinkled face. But what was I to do about it? It's not my fault I don't love her the way a child should love her mother.

"Ciara," my father hisses. "You're not going to give your mother, the woman who gave birth to you, a proper welcome?"

My mouth drops open, I can't believe he was already going to start snapping at me for the things I was doing. Or, technically, not doing. "Are you kidding me right now?" I say, taken back. How could they possibly expect me to be happy to see them? This was the last thing I felt like doing.

"Does it look like I'm kidding?" He sneers, his mouth clenched.

I laugh. "Seems like you haven't changed a bit." I roll my eyes and cross my arms, taking a clear step back away from the two. "How's the business, Nathan? Has it taken off yet like you have always hoped for?" When I was younger, my father was always so tied up in his business, he rarely ever had time for my mother and I. Which has always confused me, because the business was never a hit to the public. It was some type of Insurance company, and he's been trying to make it popular for longer than I can remember. Which clearly has never been a success.

Actually sometimes, when I'm wondering about my parents or something, I search my father's business on the internet. When I see how poorly he's doing, I sort of feel bad. But then I think about the pain he's inflicted on me and figure that this is his punishment for that.

"Not exactly. Your mother and I have been caught up in other things." He clears his throat. "And I would like it if you don't call me Nathan, because after all, I am your father."

"Well sorry Nathan, but I don't exactly feel comfortable calling you that. You're more of a stranger than a father." I admit and my mother only speaks up to diminish the conversation.

"Please, can we not fight." My mother attempts a smile, but only flashes her yellow stained teeth. What ever these two have gone through must have been a tragedy, but knowing them they're probably making a huge deal out of the electric bill or mortgage. "What is this young man's name?" Her voice wobbles and I can't look away from her. She looks so broken and fragile, I can't believe it's actually my mother.

As a child, I always preferred my mother over my father. She had the tendency to be there for me more than my dad had, but it still was never enough. She was always a pushover towards him, which annoyed me horribly. I never knew why she wouldn't just stand up to him and leave with me, but who knew I would end up following in her footsteps and last with somebody for 4 years who treated me the exact same way?