The Story Of A Heart

Scars

Agny pressed her lips around your cup of tea, even the drink tasted bitter. This house meant her home, one she dedicated to build with her granddaughter over the last almost two decades. What her daughter was proposing was simply impossible, there was not even room in her mind for any consideration. Olive continued to speak but Agny closed her ears. "Daughter, I understand your consternation, but let me tell you that there is really nothing to worry about."

Olive looked at her mother in exasperation and rolled her eyes. "I believe quite the opposite, mother."

"Olive, I headed our household for years, I took care of you and your siblings." Her voice was firm. "In the last almost twenty years I have run this house, taking care of Anni-Frid. I know that girl better than anyone, I know how things work in this house better than anyone. You've seen nothing."

"I've seen the newspapers and heard how that phone rings." She pointed out the hall. "This is a scandal. You don't need any that, you do need peace and rest. Living with a teenager you won't get that."

"Anni-Frid is more than a teenager. She is quite mature and I am proud of her." She defended her granddaughter.

"Oh well!" Olive said wryly and began to walk through the kitchen. "That was quite clear last night."

"You're overreacting." Agny got up and carried the empty cup to the sink. This conversation was pointless.

"I'm worried about you."

"I told you, there is nothing to worry about."

Olive pursed her lips, it seemed her mother didn't see her point. "It was a scandal what brought you here, mother. It changed your life, everyone's in fact, and cost my sister her life." She watched as Agny's back stiffened at that, it weighed on her heart to have to say all this. "I am trying to prevent history from repeating itself. I can't see you suffer again, I don't want that for you."

"The circumstances are completely different, there is no point of comparison."

"Why wouldn't there be? What if tomorrow Anni-Frid makes the same mistakes as my sister? If that rich guy leaves her, could you deal with a broken girl and a new baby? could you do it all over again?"

Agny turned around and glared at her daughter; How dare she speak like that? It hurt, but deep down the doubt was already planted. "Enough, it's speculation. I thought you were coming to visit not to judge what we do or don't do. I won't let you do such a thing, better sheath your sword."

"Mother, I'm trying..."

"Well, don't do it." She cut.

Olivie sighed resignedly, Agny was a determined woman to the point of being stubborn. Still, she couldn't hold her tongue. "I know you love her. But you must remember the papers very well; Anni-Frid is not Synni, she is not my sister nor your daughter. Do not try to live a role that does not correspond to you. Your family, your children blood of your blood are waiting to see you, we also need you."

Her chest contracted on an internal shriek. Olive rubbed internal wounds that despite the years still bled. "Anni-Frid may not be my daughter, but she is mine, my girl. Synni entrusted her to my hands, and she has been a gift. I'd not want it to be any different, and nothing will be different just because you don't relate to us." She settled with determination. "This is our life now. You can forget about your idea of ​​taking me home. I will not move, my place is here. And if history repeats itself, I will do it again."

"In the name of what?"

Agny kept silent before answering, the answer was simple, she had it in her heart. Her eyes softened and she smiled wistfully. "It all comes down to love, daughter."