𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 ✓ (𝟷𝟾+)

The Decision

Arin

Roger agreed Stella Oswald and he would make a great couple. Even Mrs. Rose affirmed Roger's marriage news.

The news rattled me. A feeling of unsettled emotional sediments rose up. Heaving for air, like a weight was placed on my chest, I leaned back on my chair. My vision conjured up black spots upon hearing his confirmation, his words about the marriage to the heiress.

The sunken feeling in my chest deepened with every passing moment. Nothing in my life seemed permanent. Neither my mother nor any of my relationships. Everything came to an abrupt ending.

Ohh fuck! I was doing it again.

Brooding never helped me previously and it wouldn't be the solution now.

With the waves of emotions that crashed over me, I decided to end Roger's call earlier. Although his fallen voice depicted sadness, he didn't asked me for a reason nor imposed money restrictions over me.

Assuming he too had to get back with Stella for the night, I ignored his fake act. After all, I would have to be blind to ignore such a big red flag which could cover up The Oval.

Peeking at me, I saw mom's journal in the bookshelf. It was tucked away in the hope that I would read it one day. But that day never materialized. I was scared to scared to read her last words. Her last thoughts.

Thoughts and memories of hers flooded in, brimming my eyes. The last time we talked.

It was a whole year back when Doctor Thomas informed mom was not responding well to treatments and my last hopes were prayers. When a doctor suggested prayer as the last option, one could assume the gravity of the situation.

I still remembered walking into the room where she laid, light streaming through the window, warming the place and lighting her pale face.

Although she was weaker than the tree twigs in winder, she still managed to let out a weak yet reassuring smile. "My baby." Her words and her outstretched hands were clear in my memory. I held onto it, pushing the lump in my throat.

"Promise me that you will take care of yourself. You will do everything to survive. You will find your father. He is a very kind and good man."

All I could do at that moment was nod and hold back my tears. Knowing when someone was drawing their last breath and one has to be the last beacon of hope in their life, the reassurance to them that everything would be better once they sleep off. Knowing this sleep would be a never ending one. Knowing all that and still pretending, I made it look as though she was suffering from flu.

She gave me her journal and asked me to read it whenever I was ready. Whenever I missed her the most.

Tears roll down and were accompanied with a searing pain in my chest and throat, remembering our last moment. Our last interaction and the last time I saw her alive.

Pulling out of those memories was always hard. Wiping away tears which ran in the memory of those lost in the journey of life was harder.

My mom was a very good and reliable woman. She never did anything which might put me in harm's way. She was caring and independent. She was the one who taught me the value of getting proper education and a degree for job security.

Something about her words and those memories gave me the courage to pull the journal from the shelf.

Flipping through pages, I read her wild child stories. Her parents were orthodox and never liked the free minded girl that she was. I always wondered why I never met them but now I knew. A single mother and a bastard child would not have been idle for my grandparents to accept.