Healing Melody (Very Slow Updates)

20. Accident Child

Silence hovers in the air around us, charging the particles with tension.

Then, Galan runs a hand through his dark silky locks in agitation, rumpling what was once perfectly neat strands. "Fuck. I knew you'd misunderstand, so I looked everywhere for you but you're honestly a difficult woman to fi–"

"Don't try to change the subject." I cross my arms as my heart gallops in my chest, determined to finish the race towards the truth even if victory would cost it its life.

Galan blows out a loud breath before lowering his arm back to his side and catching my gaze. "Gloria, first off, I'm not married or even in a relationship for that matter. I'm perfectly single and have always been single."

A combination of relief and confusion washes through me.

He continues when I remain wordless. "And I'm guessing you must've seen a little girl beside me?"

My breath catches and that probably serves as my answer to his question because he nods knowingly. When his lips part, I start to pray in my heart.

Please let her be his niece. Please, please, please.

"She's my sister."

Ple–

I suck in a shaky breath, holding back tears of past and present, but keep my voice steady when I speak. "If you wanna lie to my face you should at least have the decency to think the lie through first. Sister? That's a bit far-fetched isn't it? Considering I heard her call you dad and she's like thirty years younger than you."

His eyes blink wide in confusion and surprise. "What? Dad? That's not poss– Fuck."

"Fuck as in I'm-busted-fuck?" Coldness strangles my heart at the thought of him deceiving me all this time.

"Gloria, we were talking about her dad, she wasn't referring to me alright?" he utters word by word, as if in doing so it would help me make sense of it all.

"Didn't you just say that she's your sister? And now you're saying 'her dad' like she's not your sister. Shouldn't you be saying our dad instead? Now I know you're a complete liar."

My emotions spiral out of control, but I focus on the red-hot anger, welcoming it as it courses through my veins.

Because it's better than crying my heart out.

"Fuck, this is getting messy." He tousles his already very tangled hair again, frustration darkening his blue orbs.

I scoff—thankful it didn't come out as a sob—and whip away from him.

"I can't believe this. How could I be so blind? I should've known. After everything, I should've known. Everything was too good to be true," I mutter to myself as I shake my head side to side in complete disbelief and heartache.

He follows after me as though we still have a chance. "Wait Gloria listen to me. She's my half-sister," a hint of panic laces his voice.

"Enough. Please." I hold my arms as a self-defense mechanism and avoid his gaze.

"Please just calm down and let me explain from the beginning."

I wordlessly stare out of the living room windows, watching the dark sky which mirrors my feelings.

Why I'm still allowing him to remain in my space is beyond me. I should've kicked him out by now, cut off all ties and be on the path of nursing my wounded heart, but I'm hopelessly waiting for him to tell me something—anything—that can make things right.