His Greek Love | 18+

8.

A M B R O S E

~The year 2008~

"Mamá? Ti symvaínei? Giati fevgeis?" I ask as I find my mother attempting to sneak out of our home in the middle of the night. It's currently 2 a.m. on a school night. Mom always told me that I needed to go to bed before 11 p.m. so I could wake up the next day and not be too tired for my studies. (Mama? What's going on? Why are you leaving?)

The punishment for sneaking out was dire. No tv, phone, video games, or friends for two months. And the only time you could leave your room was when it was time to eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner. So why was Mama sneaking out when she knew the consequences? She turns back to me, showing no expression, and she quietly strides toward me.

"Févgo. Den tha me xanadeís, opóte min prospathíseis na me psáxeis. O patéras sou me apatá chrónia kai to écho varetheí. Tha meíneis edó mazí tou." she says in a harsh wisper. I can't believe what I'm hearing. This isn't true, Dad has always been faithful toward Mama. She has to be lying. (I'm leaving. You will never see me again, so don't try to look for me. Your father has been cheating on me for years, and I'm tired of it. You will stay here with him.)

"Ó,ti ki an sou kánei. Thélo na mátheis káti prin fýgo oristiká. Den eísai paidí mou. O patéras sou eíche schési me mia álli gynaíka enó ímoun énkyos. Nai, écheis éna aderfáki." She has to be lying. She is my mother. I know she hasn't always treated me fairly and never paid attention to me, but she is mine, and I love her no matter what. (No matter what he does to you. I want you to know something before I leave for good. You are not my child. Your father had an affair with another woman while I was pregnant. Yes, you have a sibling.)

"Min to nomízeis móno kai móno epeidí émeina tóso kairó pou se agapó. Epeidí den to káno. Den ísoun típota gia ména. Me ékane na enkataleípso to paidí mou gia na écheis tin efkairía na zíseis aftí ti lamprí zoí." She says, her voice becoming louder. Just below shouting. There is no one but us in the house, well, except for the guards. So no one can hear the hurtful words that escape through her lips. My mother doesn't want me. She doesn't love me. She isn't my mother. (Don't think that just because I stayed for so long that I love you. Because I don't. You were nothing to me. He made me abandon my child so that you could have the chance to live this glorious life.)

"Se apechthánomai. Pánta écho kai pánta tha. Elpízo na sou féretai ópos mou férthike. Antío mikroúla." What did she mean by that? Before I can ask her any questions, her back is to me, and she is treading to the front door. (I despise you. I always have and always will. I hope he treats you the same way he treated me. Goodbye, you little cunt.)

I was taught that crying made you weak, and made you look like a pussy. But I couldn't help but drop to my knees as soon as she left the house. The woman I thought loved me with all her heart, who told me that she would always love me till the day she died, just left and broke me into a million pieces. The woman who I called my mother is just an imposter who pretended to care.

A thought comes back to me. I have a sibling? I wonder if dad knew about his absent child. Or was it the other way around? Was he absent, knowing he had another child who was probably suffering while he fed me with a silver spoon?

I have no time to think about it when the front door suddenly slams open, Gloria, my "mother," walks in. However, she isn't alone, My father trails behind her with his hand on her wrist in a deadly hold. When he spots me on the floor, with tears streaming down my face, his expression turns from mad to red-hot fury.