Rediscover

2. coming home

I hesitated, my hand hovering over the doorbell. The familiar wooden door glared at me as I contemplated my decision. Did I really want to go through with this? I could imagine my parents' reaction when they would open the door, and I doubted it would be heartwarming.

Taking a deep breath, I turned around. Perhaps another day would be ideal—when I wasn't feeling so unsettled. 

I had just taken a step away from the house when the lock clicked behind me. Wide-eyed, I frantically looked around in an attempt to hide, but to no avail. A second later, a footstep sounded behind me, just one, which stopped short. There was no point in hiding now. It was now or never.

Bracing myself for the intervention that would follow my reconciliation with my parents, I turned to face the door slowly. My heart stopped when my eyes met my father's gaze. He looked at me in shock—mouth agape, and eyes wide. Finally, when he realized that he was giving away too much of his emotions, he straightened and clenched his jaw.

I took a moment to absorb his familiar features; the dark brown hair that looked black; courtesy of the military cut he always opted for, the hard unyielding eyes that now regarded me in harsh scrutiny and the defined face that was adorned with deep lines signifying his age. My father had always been a stickler for fitness which is why he looked younger than those of his age. I had no doubt that his habits hadn't changed.

He stepped forward—his eyes guarded, making it hard for me to gauge his mood. "What are you doing here?"

Of course, there would be no hugs and heartwarming smiles from him. Not even if the circumstances were normal. And, the circumstances were definitely not normal. His voice was firm and strong and transported me back to all those moments when I had acted recklessly and had been scolded for it.

I scrambled for something to say, only to come up short. What could I say, anyway? I had disappeared without word five years ago, choosing a life that travelled a path completely different from theirs. But before I could reply, the door opened behind him and I held in a breath, anticipating the moments to come.

Sure enough, my mother stepped out—holding a blue bag probably to carry their purchases from the markets. She hadn't seen me yet, as she locked the door and fiddled with her purse. Finally, when her eyes met mine, she froze.

I did too.

"Sara," she whispered. Her voice was nothing more than a soft squeak and yet, I read the vulnerability and the disbelief it held. Squirming under their gaze, I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ears before giving them a pained smile.

The air was thick with tension and unfamiliarity. My mind whirred, trying to get ahold of the situation. "Sara," she whispered again, my name coming out as a sob. Tears welled in her eyes as she came forward in a trance. She stopped when she was inches away from me and looked up to meet my eyes. A trembling, tentative hand touched the side of my face before caressing my cheek.

On impulse, my hand went up to cover hers and I leaned into her touch. It was all so familiar—the feeling of security and protection. The fruity smell of her favourite moisturiser had me grinning. I hadn't known just how much I missed her until now.

"Oh my," she gasped and pulled me into a hug. She was shorter than me by little more than a head and I had to bend slightly to accommodate her height. I closed my eyes for a second, absorbing this moment and when I opened them again, I met my father's gaze. There was nothing welcoming in those hard unyielding eyes.