Under The Mistletoe

26| Guilt

Chapter 26: Guilt (Blake's POV)

I couldn't do anything. She sat there, sobbing in my arms and I couldn't do anything. And just that alone was slowly killing me. I held onto her tighter, hoping that she'd stop and talk to me. This is the problem with Hope. She doesn't talk to anyone. She never has. Nobody but me. And when she needed me, I was gone. When she lost her mom, I was gone. And because of that I always hated her and myself. I always thought if she would have let me, then I would have made all her pain go away. 

But now... even when I'm here. I can't do anything to even reduce the pain she feels, let alone take it away completely. 

"I don't..." she gasped for air. "I don't know what to do!" she cried even more. 

"It's okay. Everything is going to be okay, Hope. I promise," I spoke into her hair. I picked her up, walking her over to her desk chair and seating her on it. I kneeled in front of her, sitting on the floor. "Talk to me. Hope, come on. Talk to me, please. Let it all out. Tell me how you're feeling." I pushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ears. 

"I'm so angry," she said in between cries. "And hurt." I nodded in understanding while wiping her cheeks. "And... all I feel is guilt." 

"Guilt? W-why do you feel guilt?" 

"Because what kind of fucking daughter was I, Blake? When my mom died and my dad needed me, I ran away and escaped. When he needed me. All those times he went to visit her, it wasn't easy for him. I've never been to her grave, Blake. Ever! What kind of daughter does that make me? And now? After the two miserable years my dad had to face all alone, he's happy with someone," she sniffled. "He finally loves someone again. And I'm ruining it for him!" 

"Hope, you're not ruining anything for him. Listen to me." She's focused on crying, I need to distract her. Or get her to pay attention to my words somehow. "Hope." Nope. "Hope, listen to me." Still no. "Hope!" I exclaimed. 

She jumped. Her sobs stopped, she froze, staring straight at me, all ears. 

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I just... listen to me. Please," I sighed, sitting on the edge of her bed. 

She sniffled, wiping her cheeks slowly. 

"You don't have anything to feel guilty for. Two years ago, your dad lost his wife, yes. But you also lost your mom. Everyone has their own ways of coping with situations. Yours was to leave. And that's okay. Nobody holds anything against you for doing that, so you shouldn't feel guilty for that either, okay?" 

She swallowed, staring straight into my eyes. 

"And second, you'll visit your mom when you're ready to, okay? There's no time limit on that. You said earlier that you're ready to go tomorrow. If you still are, then we'll go and if not, then that's okay too. Okay?" 

She nodded slowly in understanding. 

"And one more thing, that's your dad. Yes, he will move on. Yes, you two may not agree on it. Yes, he didn't tell you. But he had his reasons, right? The same way you have yours for the way you reacted, right?" 

"Right," she whispered. 

"So, it's okay. Sometimes we don't get along with our parents. Sometimes we're not ready to face reality. It's okay. You are okay. Okay?" She nodded in understanding. "Okay." I let out a breath, my shoulders deflating while my heart rate slowed down. I sighed, dragging my hands down my face. 

We both kind of caught up with reality and sat in silence for at least ten minutes. I looked up at her from between my fingers, noticing her looking back at me. I dropped my hands from my face and rested my elbows on my knees. We both stared at each other for a while, not knowing what to say. "Are you okay, babe?" I questioned.