Saving Grace

Chapter 11: Decisions

No. No no no no no.

I'm sitting in front of my mom, speechless, my mind reeling.

John is back? He remembers me? He wants to meet me?

I don't want to meet him.

"What?" Mom asks.

Did I say that out loud?

"I don't want to meet him." I repeat.

"I understand that he came back after years, and you might be feeling awkward about meeting him,"Mom placates me, "but Grace, at least meet him once. He deserves at least that."

"You don't understand, Mom." I slam my hands onto the table, frustrated.

Mom reels back in shock at my reaction. "Then make me understand, hon." She quietly says, recovering.

I sigh.

I am a very private person. I used to share everything with Dad, but after his death, I guess I just retreated back into my shell. I hardened it to being impenetrable, only showing glimpses of my real self, that too to a selective few. Actually, only Halsey.

It's not that I'm not close to Mom. I am. More so than anyone. But I can only share as much with her. Her office work, handling the house, cooking dinner, paying the bills, all of that burden on her, I just didn't want to add more to it with my constant nagging and ranting.

So I opted for the other way. I bottled everything up. I know it's not healthy and it's probably going to come bite me in the ass someday, but the other option was to lay it bare to my mother.

Also, Mom would never quite understand. I know she'll try her best, but she still won't be able to get me. That is why I was close to Mom, but I always used to share my problems with Dad, when he was alive. He and I had a more similar mindset than Mom and me.

The anxiety, the depression, the loneliness, the utter grief over the loss of my sister and my father. No matter how many years may pass, it's one of those things that never really leaves your mind. You never could get over death.

I never could get over their deaths.

But I knew, even when I was in the hospital recovering from the coma, that I couldn't carry on with this. I couldn't put my mother through this. I knew she was equally aggrieved, but that didn't mean I should add to it. I did take my time recovering, physically as well as mentally.

But how could you ever recover from something like that?

The answer is, you couldn't. You grieve, and you show it for a while. But then you stop showing it. Just to free the others you bind with yourself while doing so. You stop showing.

But you never stop grieving.

So I put on a mask, perfected my poker face, practiced fake smiles in front of the mirror, and played my role. I acted like I was sad, but recovering. Then I stopped acting sad altogether. Instead, I started acting like I've moved on, like I'm finally happy.

Truth is, I'm not happy.

I'm nowhere near happy. I am still that depressed, lonely and sad Grace that I was right after I got the news of my sister and father's death. I am still hurting. So deeply it's like a volcano inside me. Dormant, but there. Building up a lava of raw emotions, this close to going active and erupting.

I'm just trying to delay it as long as I could. And so far, I've succeeded.

And I won't let a face from the painful past bring back all those memories and suffering to the surface. Not after trying so hard to look fine in front of everyone. Not after succeeding in hiding how broken I am from the inside.

Not after two years of building up walls, fortifying them, strengthening them till I could see no way in or out.

Not after I'm finally starting to believe I can pull through.

And John would just ruin everything I've built. Not that I harbor any ill feelings towards him, it's just that he would bring back every emotion I've tried so hard to suppress. I wouldn't be able to stop the past from coming back to haunt me.

And I can't afford to lose myself right now.

"I just don't want to meet him. He was Helen's boyfriend, not mine. And they were together in highschool, I'm sure he has had plenty of time to move on. I don't see what he benefits from meeting me. We weren't even close. I didn't even remember him before you mentioned him." I reply, every word slicing like a knife in my throat.

I am good at acting. I am also a good liar.

Mom believes me.

"Okay, hon," she pats my hand, "I'll tell him your answer."

I smile at her. "You shouldn't worry about it either. He was just someone in the past. Let him stay there."

She sighs, and as if she wanted to hear just that, her shoulders lift in a deep breath, shedding her worry and sadness.

"You're right." She says, nodding. She gets up from her seat and exits the kitchen, mumbling about her ruined outfit.

I sit there, watching her retreating back, still lost in thought.

Did I make the right decision?

Shaking my head, I decide what's done is done and I should stop second guessing every decision I make.

With that, I get up and head upstairs to change out of the dress into my comfy pyjamas, thinking of spending the rest of the day in bed, reading.

I don't want to over think myself into changing my decision. I need a time out.

I guess it's going to be a long day.

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Sorry, guys, I think this was a shorter chapter than the rest of them but I wanted it short.

I'm not so happy with how it turned out, but oh well. I tried.

And that's saying something since I'm apparently going through a writer's block. (never thought I'd ever get to say that)

So bear with me and keep reading!

Also, it would make me so happy if you'd comment. I'd know that people are actually reading what I'm writing and their insight about the story.

Anyway, happy reading!