Tough Love

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

            By the time I got home, the sun was just setting. Dom had sensed my upset and down mood so we had went out for ice cream and coffee, a signature combination between us. There, as I calmed down and had a grasp on my out of control emotions, I told Dom everything that had happened in Brandon’s house. He listened quietly, and after I was done talking, my chest felt lighter, and my mind at ease from everything going on.  

 After he finished telling me “I told you so”, fuming and saying some very bad curse words and even worse things he wanted to do to Brandon, he drove me home. Dom slowed down to a stop in front of my house and I sighed, feeling so much calmer, and a little happier than I did hours ago. “Thank you, Dom,” I said gratefully. “I’d be a wreck right now if it wasn’t for you,”

“No problem. That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right.” I confirmed, grinning. I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out.

“Oh, and Emily, if you feel like calling me, to talk about anything really, just call me.” He winked and smiled a small smile, before giving two honks of the horn and driving away.  

                “Emily?”  My mom called out when I shut the door, just when I tried to make a beeline to my room. I sighed, stopping midstep up the stairs, and turned.

“Yeah?”

“Dinners almost ready, I expect you to be down in 10,”

I sighed. “Okay, alright.”

I jogged upstairs and closed the door to my room. I felt mentally exhausted, my body yearning for a long and full eight hours sleep. I felt like curling up into a small ball when I sat on my bed. I wanted to skip dinner and I wanted to just go to sleep and have today’s eventful day over with. I knew a part of me was gone. A part of my heart was missing, and that part couldn't be replaced. A part of me couldn’t be healed. A part of me was going to stay numb forever. I rubbed my forehead, trying to seize my continuous thoughts.

My mom always told me to not stress about things too much, and that it’s not good for my body. She gave me amazing advice with all the right answers, and I've never doubted if she was wrong, or made any error in the advice she gave me.

But now I knew what she hadn’t told me. She hadn’t told me how I should get rid of this stress. This stress that kept building up onto my shoulders, not taking time to stop. Sooner or later I would collapse with all this weight. It was getting too much to handle.

Too much.

Maybe everything would be alright. Maybe I’d find my mate, my true love, my other half. Maybe he’d help me get through this.

 Deep down I knew I was probably imagining a fantasy. If I even did find my mate, why would he want a blind girl like me? A girl that was a wreck, with a broken heart, with no eyesight.

I changed into clothes more comfortable, washed my face, and put my hair into a messy bun, before sluggishly trudging back down the stairs.

“What’s for tonight?” I called out to my mom as I seated myself at the dining room table. The plates were already set, and dad was fiddling with his phone.

“See for yourself,” Mom said, smiling timidly as she poured three bowls of soup, and then brought over a dish with meat and veggies, with some rice and a large bowl of fancy salad. Dinner tonight was divine indeed, and my suspicions arose as Mom nor had Dad asked where I had been.

“What’s up with the big dinner? Are we having guests?” I asked turning to the door.

“I was in the mood of a big dinner, what’s wrong with that?” Mom said nonchalantly.

As we started eating, Mom and Dad did the regular questionings they always did at dinner.

“How was school?”, “Did you get any homework?”, or “What’d you get on the math test,”.

I was convinced everything was normal; feeling foolish for thinking something suspicious was going on. After we finished the main course, Dad and I helped Mom bring the dirty dishes to the sink, storing the leftovers in plastic containers.

When we were finished, my head was pounding and I desperately needed some sleep. My mind was constantly spinning.

Blind, Brandon, Blind, Blind, Brandon

“Not so fast kiddo,” My dad said as I turned to leave the kitchen.

“Huh?” I murmured confusedly. I just wanted sleep. My mind was protesting to shut down, and the dizziness of my vision wasn’t helping either.

“Dessert. And your mom and I need to talk to you,”

Double ice cream in one day? I thought as I ate my ice cream sundae, my tired eyes glued to the TV.

My parents came in and sat down, backs straight, hands in their laps, shoulders stiff, and eyes concentrated on the TV. Thick tension radiated in the room and I coughed.

“So. What did we need to talk about again?” Their faces were worried now, their happy and normal façade at dinner dropping. Though the worried lines etched in my mother’s face, she gave a rough attempt to smile.

I exhaled shakily. My heart was racing. What could this be about? We couldn’t afford the blindness treatment at the hospital? I had eaten up all their savings for this illness? Someone in the family died? My heart was beating furiously in my chest now, my palms suddenly sweaty and tingling.  

“Your mom and I, we-“Dad looked at my mom, trying to figure out how to work what he was about to say. “We know the treatment for your blindness here helps, in a way, but we feel as though it’s only postponing what has yet to come…”

“What? We don’t have money left for the treatment? We don’t have to do the treatment then, it’s pointless, really-“ I started.

“Honey, no, it’s nothing about money. Money is irrelevant right now. What we care about is your health, nothing more.” My mom insisted.

“Your mom and I have found a really great treatment center and they are the first werewolf hospital to find and test cures for blindness. It is a new treatment but it has been successful.”  My father rambled on.

“That’s great, Dad, that’s great.” I cut in sincerely, exhaustion and tension lifted off my mind as I thought of this new possibility. No blindness? No more doctor appointments? No more sadness? I laughed. “Dad, I thought you guys were going to give me a death sentence or something! This is great. Where is it? When do we start the treatment?” So many questions started coming up in my head, so many possibilities.

My parents looked at each other. “Well…” My mom began. “It’s in Boston, and the treatment sessions are stretched over a long period of time. So your Dad and I were thinking of moving the business into Boston. It’s a nice, booming city and we think it’ll help our family a lot financially. We’ll also be really close to your sister, Anne. It is perfect, really,” She said, smiling now.

Trying to convince me everything would be perfect.

My breath hitched in my throat when I processed what Mom had said. “Boston? All the way up north to- Boston?”

“Yes… Boston.” My dad said, studying me.

“You’re Dad and I have already talked to one of the packs in Boston. Their called The Webster Pack.”

“That’s the strongest pack in North America! Why- we’re going there? Moving, there?” I swallowed, my head actually beating frantically, spinning.

Dad slipped his hand over mine. “We think it’ll be very, very beneficial. I’ve never been so sure about this in my whole life. You sleep on it, alright? I know you’ll love it there,” Dad convinced.

As I sat there, stunned, three words were being pounded into my head, over and over.

Brandon, Boston, Blind, Boston, Boston, Boston, Boston…