Palindrome

Fifty-Nine

Chapter 59

Paxton

Dammit Rohi, why aren't you picking up?

If I stare at my phone long enough, then maybe my screen will light up with her name and the picture of the two of us from our first date. Manifestation doesn't work as it never does and all I can do is frantically text everyone in my contact list who knows her. I've already had two group calls with Bronwyn, Abraham, Blake, Javed, and Nagi since I left my hotel in Washington.

Running a hand through my hair, I scroll through my camera roll with nothing better to do. There's not a lot there, pictures of Mum, Alice, Ella, and I. I have one with my dad, one with Savannah just because. Several of Eddie and I over the years, coupled with a few other friends I haven't talked to in a while. A lot of them are with all the DECA officers.

Then around December, the makeup of the pictures in my phone changed.

I've got a lot with everyone from theatre, mixed with some of the school deca officers, several selfies of Nagi, who enjoys spamming my phone, some more with Ella and Mum taken to annoy Alice. Guess Aarohi's there occasionally.

Okay, that's a lie.

She's there a lot.

"Paxton."

Mum's strained voice snaps me out of my reverie. I glance up to see her studying me with worried eyes, her lips pursed together. Instantly, I know what's she thinking; judging by the look on her face, she does too.

She thinks I'm moving too fast with Rohi, that I shouldn't date her at all given my entire condition. The other night she told me it wasn't the right time.

Right time.

When's there ever a right time?

She's been protective like that since we've moved. Strangely, I understand where she's coming from after fifteen years trapped in a toxic relationship. Who wouldn't fear for their children?

Except I'm not him.

Nor am I her.

Yet I know the reason I haven't told Rohi I loved her is because somewhere in the back of my head, my mother's words make sense. There's no point in falling so hard and letting her believe that I feel that extent of emotions in case something happens.

Say I don't make it.

It'll be easier for Aarohi to move on.

"Mum," I say, letting go of my phone and facing her.

She doesn't take her eyes off the road. "Yes?"

"He didn't deserve your love."

Mum smiles sadly. "Your father was a good man."

"You can stop making excuses for him," I say a little more harshly than I intend to.

Mum's grip on the steering wheel tightens. Usually, I would tear my gaze away from her. This time, I continue staring at her watchfully. She still sees him as the guy who swept her off her feet at that dinner he worked at. While he is trying to revert to that version of himself since we left, he's not that man. 

He wasn't for a long time.

She doesn't see that Alice had to become a mother somewhere along the line when she was out working shifts before becoming an adult. I had to drag myself through school because of the entire inferiority complex I developed in that home. Ella didn't know the carefree years Alice and I enjoyed of summers spent chasing ice-cream trucks and smores around the campfire.