Their doll 2

42- The only way

Policemen. Private investigators. The FBI. Whoever was responsible for the case could give us nothing. We lacked information, and foundation as to how she made it out there. Alive, and still living. Without a single vehicle, no public transport records, no history of purchase at any stores within a ten mile radius from her house. Since the neighborhood she lived in was very poor, looking at the street video surveillance, we only found either the cameras were improperly positioned, or they weren't recording at all.

For six months there was no record of her. And all the people she knew. Friends. Close relatives. They hadn't heard from her either. Where is she? Where is our Aurora?

"Stay out of the FBI offices, Cruz." I stated, hoping it would be the last time I had to ask Joanna's father for a favor right before I divorced his daughter. Cruz surely loved to make things hard for me.

"I have a meeting at five. I should get going." He easily dismissed. Completely ignored my statement earlier. He turned around and headed toward the door.

"You need to stop."

This time, he listened. He stopped. Or perhaps, my cold and distant tone had him rooted to the spot.

"She's not coming back. Let it go." I said, exhaling sharply as I tried not to let guilt consume me.

Shocked and awed all at once, Cruz slowly turned around.

"You gave up so easily." He sneered. But I had been trying. He knows.

At some point, I wished we would never run into each other again. Ever. Deep, deep down. I didn't want to see Aurora again. Not that I could ever stop missing her face, her voice, nor her touch. But I was afraid. Terrified. Because only God knows how far would I go, punishing her. I was afraid of myself. I've lived every minute in the past six months fueled by raw anger. If she were to make it back to us alive, she'd never forget the lessons I'm going to teach her. For the rest of her life, I will spend every single second of everyday, reminding her just how much of her belonged to us. She was ours and it doesn't matter to me whether she should like to accept it or not— she still is ours.

*******************

"Lobster?"

I merely shook my head, politely declining Joanna's offer after ignoring her irritated huff of breath. I set my fork down, losing my appetite entirely as the thought of her once again consumed my very being.

Nevertheless, here I am. Sitting at the big dinning table at the Conner resident with both, Joanna's and my own family several hours after my argument with Cruz. An argument which I wasn't ready to have today—maybe not ever.

"Is the food not to your liking, Ralph?" Mrs. Connor questioned, her eyes worriedly assessing the tired look on my face.

"He's fine, mom." Joanna responded on my behalf. She then gave me a side-eye look that said what-the-heck-is-wrong-with-you.

My mother looked over at both of us. The wary look in her eyes suggested to me; she was aware of the primary purpose of today's meeting. My best guess. Father must have said something to her in the car on their way over.

"Would you excuse us?" Mother said, rising abruptly from her seat, "I and Richard recently travelled to Morocco and brought back some souvenirs." She sent me a glance. She looked on the verge of hysteria, "I need a hand carrying all the bags in. Do you mind?"