Growing Up and Other Tall Tales

Chapter 28

"What is she talking about?" he asks carefully

"Yeah," I look back at her, "What am I talking about? Did you—did you steal it?"

"Lyra," Aiden says in shock and looks at me with both confusion and anger in his eyes. After all, I did just accuse his mother whose room I am in after almost dying covered in her blankets of being a thief.

"Then why isn't she saying anything?" I whisper and Aiden scoffs

"You did just accuse her. It's obviously hers. She has no reason to steal. She could buy hundreds of those," Aiden says but his voice quickens and I know he doesn't believe what he says

"It can't be hers," I say to him finally, "It cannot be hers,"

"Mother," Aiden says clearly, "Tell her,"

And she speaks.

"He's right, Lyra," she says quietly, her eyes downcast and her chin touching her collar bone. And it's a look of shame.

"He's right about what?" I ask tightening the hold on her wrist

"It's my ring,"

There's a silence.

And wave after wave consumes me.

"What?" I murmur

"It's my ring," she repeats

Aiden's shoulders drop in relief and he smiles at her. Turning to me almost triumphantly, his eyes darken when he sees the look on my face. His hand falls on my shoulder and he raises an eyebrow at me.

"It can't be,"

"I'm so sorry, Lyra," her shoulders shake and she is crying. Why is she crying? Her voice is heavy with tears and regret and guilt. Aiden's hands desert me and he moves closer to her. His fingers tilt up her face but she doesn't look at him. Why is she crying? His eyes are searching for answers on her face but they give up almost immediately as though he feels guilty ever looking for them.

"Read it," I murmur not trusting my voice to be stable if it was any louder and lift my hand up so Aiden could read the engraving. He looks at me in perplexity and then wraps his fingers around my wrist hesitantly bringing my hand up to his eyes. His gaze zeroes upon the last name. He looks at me and then back at the ring.

"It's a coincidence," he shakes his head not looking away from my hand

I look at him and for once, he is lost. He opens his mouth and then shuts it again. I look back at her.

"Tell me," I breathe and it's shaky, choked up with tears and years of clogged despair, "Tell me, this isn't what I think it is,"

She doesn't say anything and somehow that is worse.

There's a pause.

My finger trembles when I hold it up as I try to steady my rapidly wavering vision, "He—he told me you died giving birth to me, "I gulp hard, "He hated me for it. He became sick. He is still sick. He—"I took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of my nose, "He loved you,"

She is still crying. Her head falls onto Aiden's chest and he takes a step back as though startled by contact. He is looking at her as if he has never seen her before and that makes her cry harder. The look on his face is that of a wary man eyeing a stranger weep for a loss he didn't really understand.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she weeps and she reaches out for him and then turns to me

"Why did you leave?" I ask quietly and Aiden's head snaps up at the question as though he recognizes it somewhere, "Why did you leave us?"

She cannot answer. Her sobs are consuming her words and there is speech clawing its way out from somewhere but I am not ready to hear it. I am done with excuses.

My throat is parched gasping for moisture, there are hurtful, monstrous words hacking their way up from the depths of those parts of me rotten with bitterness. And I want to leave before I say anything.

"I have to go," I say absently and pull the ring out of my finger. I drop it on the ground and it clatters noisily. I look away from her and am about to push my way to the door when Aiden stops me.

"It's raining outside," he says and I very much notice how his hand is cupping my elbow, "You are sick. Don't be an idiot,"

It isn't fair how I feel. It isn't fair for me to be angry at Aiden. Aiden who is so confused, Aiden who has been lied to all his life, Aiden who is probably more pained than I am. But blinded as I was, I do something I regret all the way back home,

"Why do you care?" I hiss and there is a small silence. His hand falls to his side and his jaw locks but I can't read his eyes. And I don't really care. So when I push away from him, I don't have the urge to run back. Nope. Not at all.

Lies.

I guess I know who I take after.