Union

78.

Maria
I always though my fate would mirror my mothers, the tapestry of blues and purples would be passed down to me. That the traits of our family were passed not within the blood of her womb but the blood that would decorate the walls of our home. Instead, my fate was to have a family who would never leave my side. They all carry a degree of violence within them but it's never reflected at me, only ever away like they can shield me.
Roel sits outside everyday waiting from 10am to 4pm for me to change my mind or to go home. He watches as the family of my heart choose to sit beside me and offer anything they can. There's no schedule and no hardship on their features each day they visit me like this is all normal and not taking time away from their families.
The memories of failing my task as a child and nursing my healing bruises alone is a world away from the people who sit with me while I heal my mind. There's no expectations for me to be anything than whoever I want to be and it's freeing, the guards are still there after a lifetime of patrol they refuse to retire but it's easier to fucking breath knowing Roel stands outside those doors as my physical guard.
It takes more than two months for the fog to clear, for my body to allow the truth to sink in. A heavy weight comes back when I think of the hurt I've caused but it isn't unbearable like before. It's easier to navigate pointing out how to do better rather than focusing on how badly I fucked up.
Stepping out of the doors I'm not a new person, but I'm not the person I was before. I'm a mix of everything and Amber has the widest smile on her face as she rushes out of the car. It's easier to let someone see your demons when they have their own, the fear of judgement leaves even if I know the others won't react negatively it's an understand that can't be explained. I expect Alto to be driving but Francesca moves around the front of the car with Mara joining her as they wrap their arms around me. My plan to have Roel see me as me comes to fruition as we drive away.

I've spent too many nights away from my home, nerves fills me not knowing what to expect. My mind decides to bring out insecurities and fears that I've never experienced.

Will my access still work?
What if he changed the locks?
Roel might not be home.
What if he's seen how much his life is better without me?

Breathing through them I force my steps, my fingers shaking with uncertainty as I put in the code for the elevator. It doesn't flash red blaring 'access denied, you pushed your husband away so he doesn't want you' which I take as a win.
Pushing the door slowly I expect it to stay attached the lock but it grants me entry loosening another knot. Keeping my steps silent because it's early and I'm a chicken shit not wanting to be confronted with my fears another knot loosens before it wraps around my heart.
Roel sleeps sitting up on the sofa. There's an ugly metallic ornament clasped to his chest and the penthouse that was always immaculate resembles the state I first seen it in. It's not as bad but there are clothes draped on the armchair and across the coffee table, dumped wherever they landed and forgotten still in the dry cleaners bags.
Lemon cleaner faintly perfumes the air showing someone cleaned and Roel goes rigid snapping awake before his eyes widen. I freeze, I don't know why but my legs lock as we stay suspended in time and he stares unblinking before croaking. "Don't be a fucking dream." My laugh is genuine and my steps are rushed, as soon as I'm with arms reach Roel drags me forward until his cheek is buried in my abdomen and his arms pulling me closer.
Then it all turns cold, there's no warm feelings and my hands that automatically went to his shoulders fall limp to my sides as he's unaware seeking comfort from me and the final fucking knot turns into a noose of my own making. He smells wrong, his arms around me aren't a cage but worse and I die inside more than I ever have before as I shut down internally.
The stupid fucking wings on my back, dress and boots that match the first moment I met him are uncomfortable. They itch making my skin burn while my heart turns to fucking ash at the smell of perfume and sight of lipstick on his collar. I try to stop the sound of my anguish leaving but it escapes in a pathetic fucking whimper as a door opens coming from the direction of our bedroom.