Greetings Trilogy: Book Two
Originally Known As: Rosalynna
Can be read alone but still makes references to the first book.
Updates: Every Sunday at 11:00 p.m.
Life always comes in full circle, you have babies, those babies have babies and so on and...
"Now I'm cryin' while I'm drivin' with your smile in my head
You just sent a paragraph and I left you on read"
Second Chances // Kiana Lede
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Walking into the house made me nervous. I hadn't been there for a while, and the silence that wrapped around the familiar space just felt off. I had been staying with my sister after a blow-up with Ricardo, and now, standing at the doorway, I felt the weight of unresolved issues hanging in the air.
Pushing the door open, I was hit with a scene that shook me to my core. The living room, a place where we once shared laughter and family moments, now looked like a battleground. Veronica, her face messed up and bleeding was at the center of it all. The air crackled with tension, the opposite of the homecoming I had in mind.
Any plans to patch things up with Ricardo took a backseat as I rushed to Veronica's side. "What the hell happened?" I asked a mix of concern and disbelief in my voice.
Veronica, clearly wounded and angry, shot a furious look toward Weston, who seemed unapologetic and disheveled. The room felt heavy with unspoken tensions, the aftermath of a confrontation that had gone way too far.
"I need to know what's going on, spill it," I demanded, the urgency in my voice pushing them to spill the beans. As they shared their sides of the story, it became painfully clear that the family discord had reached a breaking point in my absence.
Veronica, still visibly upset, added, "I just wanted to talk, to get some closure. But she doesn't care. She's been doing whatever she wants, consequences be damned."
Weston scoffed, crossing her arms defensively. "She came in here, started throwing punches, and I defended myself. I'm not taking any crap from her."
"Defended yourself? What the hell, Weston?" I finally interjected, my frustration bubbling to the surface. Weston's response was a nonchalant shrug, "This isn't some game. Look at her!" I gestured towards Veronica, her tear-streaked face the complete opposite of Weston's.
The door opened behind me, Ricardo walked in with Ansel who looked like he was already stressed. He shot a questioning glance at me, as if he didn't expect to see me. Ricardo hadn't even looked at me he looked at Valentina and Enrique, "What the hell happened?" Ricardo's voice cut through the tension, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation.
"Veronica wanted to talk, and Weston attacked her," I explained, he looked at me as if he had not asked me for my interpretation.
Veronica, still nursing her injuries, nodded vigorously. "I just wanted to sort things out with Enrique, but she went berserk on me."
Weston rolled her eyes, a defiant smirk playing on her lips. "She barged in here, started throwing punches, and I defended myself. Simple as that."
Ricardo's stern voice cut through the room, the tension escalating with each passing moment. "You," he pointed at Veronica, "I think you should go and don't contact my son ever again."
Veronica and I shared a bewildered look, the shock was evident in our expressions.
"She just said Weston put her hands on her for no reason," I interjected as Veronica stepped closer.
"I believe Weston, simple. Weston wouldn't do that," Ricardo pointed towards Veronica, "for no reason."
"But she did, Ricardo," I insisted.
"Please don't start," Valentina pleaded.
"Ma, she did come in and try to attack Weston," I added.
"See," Ricardo nodded, "So exit, Veronica."
"You are never on my side," I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Get her some ice, Valentina." Valentina shook her head, a silent refusal, earning a threatening warning from me. "Shake your head at me again, and I will knock your head off your shoulders."
"Is that even necessary? Why do you have to speak to them like they're some fucking toy," Ricardo criticized. "Don't get her ice; I told her to leave."
As the room simmered I looked at Ricardo. "Marriage is a team, but last time I checked, I've been doing this by myself." I could feel everyone looking at me, "Nothing to say, huh? Maybe we need a break," I said.
"We don't need a break; we need a divorce," he declared, "you walk around all high and mighty like this marriage has just been your doing. You got into that publishing company and neglected the very people who got you there. Don't sit here and disrespect our kids talking about you're going to knock her head off when you stopped being her parent a long ass time ago."
I looked at my kids – Ansel, Enrique, and Valentina. Their faces said it all – disappointment, frustration, exhaustion. It hit me hard; they believed Ricardo's words. When did things get so messed up?
"I think I should go." I mutter looking away and walking out of the front door.
Our family used to be solid, but now it felt like shattered glass on the floor. Ansel was barely keeping it together. Enrique was stuck in the middle of our messed-up relationship. Valentina was watching everything fall apart. I used to be the one who kept it all together. But somewhere along the way, everything fell apart, and I got lost in the mess. I thought maybe taking some time away would make Ricardo and me figure things out, fix the problems.
As I stood there, I replayed the fights, the things we never said, the growing gap between us. I wondered where it all went wrong, how the love we had turned into this cold, distant mess. The truth hit me hard – I lost myself in the chaos. The woman who knew her family inside out became a stranger in her own home. The love that used to hold us together felt like a distant memory.
Now, in the aftermath, I couldn't ignore the reality – our family was a ship without a captain, drifting into stormy waters. Guilt weighed me down; I failed to protect my kids from the storms in our home. In the heavy silence that followed, Ricardo's words hung in the air. Divorce. It sounded so final, tearing apart what was left. As I faced the wreckage of my family, I wondered – could we fix this mess, or was it too late? Had we gone too far, leaving behind only the echoes of what used to be our home?
I got into my Jeep not even wanting to go back to my sisters house. I had overstayed my welcome enough there. I think this time I would stay away for much longer. I could feel the tears begin to brew in my eyes. I wiped the tears back as I drove and drove. I didn't look back as I got onto the highway just driving and thinking about everything. This isn't the life I wanted or signed up for. Maybe we just needed space, maybe I had just came back home too fast, and maybe I had been the problem all along.
I turned my playlist on as I road. Some songs I'd listen to when I needed to express my feelings. Kiana Lede's Second Chances boomed through my speakers as the road began to expand, "You missed out on a blessing, I made you the king of my world. I thought you'd be by my side like you and I saving the world" I sang out loud as I drove further and further away from what was home.
