The Dying Story (Chasing Illusions #3) | A Novel

Chapter 4

When I came back home, Luca greeted me, with a purr and a meow as her tail swished upwards. A smile adorned my face, as I caressed her. "How are you doing, my baby?"

She meowed again, and I walked up to the kitchen to prepare dinner for her. She watched me from below with her beady blue eyes. Placing the food bowl in front of her, she started eating, and I felt her purr beneath my hands, strong and comforting.

I decided to sit on the ground and watch this beautiful creature eat. It was a habit at this point, and I never ceased to enjoy it. It distracted me from my worries, from my thoughts and from my feelings. As I ran through her fur, I realized I hadn't brushed her since the day before yesterday.

"We got to do that after you eat, baby."

She continued to focus on her food, and I got up. A phone call came, and instead of taking the brush out, I picked the phone.

"Hello?"

"Emily!" My older brother, Xavier, had his booming voice through the phone. "How's everything?"

There again. The "how's life" question. But Xavier asked it, and family's intent was different from acquaintance's intent. "Peachy." I didn't want to delve into what happened to Charlotte. As far as concerned, Charlotte was my friend, and thus my business alone. Nobody needed to know any further than that, including family.

"How's everything for you, Xavier?"

"Meh." He breathed that one word out, like his whole being felt that very emotion. "Mom called yesterday. Is she on crack or something?"

I laughed. "No, she's not. Apparently she's coming to realize what she had done."

Xavier snorted. "Too late for that, isn't it?"

I shrugged. Both of us weren't a big fan of our own mother. Ever since we grew up and got our own lives, we cut her off and barely spoke to her, simply because we wanted to be free from her. But recently she tried to come back again, wanting some reconciliation with her children.

"Depends on you, I suppose. Are you going to reconcile with her?"

"Nah, I don't want to. God knows how long this lasts. Maybe it will just last a few weeks, and she'll go back to the kind of person she was."

I nodded. "It's possible. But she did seem really sincere when she met me."

"So are you going to do it then?"

I looked towards the sunflower painting that I bought last year on the wall. "You know how I feel about her. I may have forgiven her, but it doesn't mean I want another mother-daughter relationship again. I don't think we can build that even at this point. And I'm not sure if I want to settle for less with her."

"Fair enough. For me, I don't really believe her anymore. She used to come up with that bullshit all the time. God knows if she's honest and truly willing this time."

I smiled unwittingly. "She has that tendency to take back apologies."

"And she wonders why we left her as soon as we can. Either way, are you up for a dinner night this weekend? Bethany wants you around."

"One of your barbecue sessions?"

"Of course. What else to do in a weekend than a good barbecue?" I could imagine his grin with teeth shown.

I shook my head. "I don't know if I can go. I may be busy." Not true. I just didn't quite want to go.

"Come on, Em, just come. For once forget about your job and live! Your life isn't just your job!"

There again. Another thing that people love to tell me. Once I say how seriously I take my work, people say I have no life or if they care about me, they would say it's unhealthy, and life isn't just about work. After so many times, I sort of got tired of telling them anything against their own assumptions, since it never worked.

"I'm serious. I don't think I can."

"Come on, please? Pretty please on the cherry on top?"

"No."

"Please? I'll give you all the meat."

"You won't. Serious, Xavier, I'm not well."

"What happened?" His tone changed to concern.

"Nothing." Charlotte is gone, and everything seems to gone to hell now. "Just tired. There's an important project coming up. I might have to be on my toes about it."

"Geez, you work too hard, Em. You need to take care of yourself."

"I will." But they were empty words, spoken too many times for them to be of importance. How many times have I said it to other people without a blink of an eye? Who knows?

Did Charlotte do the same thing, I wondered? Every time I asked her whether she was fine, did she say things like that as if they didn't mean anything? Did she come up with excuses the way I did? If so, why?

Was it the same reason as me?

Did she ever know I know what it's like to be her? And if she did, why didn't she come forward? If she didn't, then why did she call me that day? What made her do it?

"I have to go now, Em. Don't push yourself too hard, okay?"

"Ok." I nodded as I listened to the phone hang up. The final beeping sound echoed through the apartment.

How much did you push yourself, Charlotte, until you couldn't take it anymore?