Queen of Nothing

21. Gia

But reality always was a lot more complicated  than that. 

"You put us through so much," I whispered, "you put me through so much."

Gia's face crumpled at my words, "I know, I know and I'll tell you whatever I can." 

"But not what I want to hear, right?" I hounded.

She bit her lip nervously, "I understand if you don't want to trust me. But you have to know how sorry I am, for leaving, for doing what I did. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I need you. I need my sister." 

She let her words hang in the air, and I stood there, still not quite sure I was seeing her. Then, I did something that shocked even me. I threw my arms around her and the whole fucking damn broke right open, as we sunk to the ground, a mix of tears, regret, and a whole lot of pain. 

---

Gia had gripped the mug in front of her as if her life had depended on it, the tip of her nose red. We'd spent an hour crying and holding onto each other, and when the emotions finally subsided, we moved apart to make space for it. 

The truth. 

"So?" I asked, "Are you going to talk?" 

She shrugged, "What do you want to know." 

"Why did you leave?" 

Gia's lips trembled as she struggled to find the words, her eyes pleading for understanding. "I wish I had a simple answer," she began, her voice raw with emotion, "but the truth is, it's complicated. So much was happening back then, things that I couldn't begin to explain." 

My chest tightened at her words, a flood of memories crashing over me like a tidal wave. "Try," I urged, my voice tinged with desperation, "Please, just try."

She gaped helplessly, "I don't know. I really don't. Mom and I had started fighting so much, and I wondered if we would all be better off if I'd left. I didn't know-" 

A lump formed in my throat as I listened to her words, the pain of our fractured family laid bare before us. "But why did you leave without saying anything?" I pressed, my voice tinged with frustration and hurt.

Gia's eyes brimmed with tears as she met my gaze, her vulnerability shining through. "I was scared," she admitted, her voice barely audible, "I was scared that one more day in this house...and Mom would kill me. She'd snap the last thread of restraint and come at me. I thought that by leaving, I could escape it all, start fresh somewhere far away." 

"And did it work?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, "Did you find what you were looking for?"

She nodded sadly, "I did." 

I turned away, tears fresh in my eyes, "Great. Good to know you don't regret any of it." 

"You have to listen," she plead, "when I left, I felt like I could take a breathe for the first time in my life. I spent a couple years in Texas, enrolled in community college, started working as a waitress in Baton Rouge. And you know what?" 

"What?" I asked, unsure if I wanted the answer. 

"I felt alive again," she stated plainly. "I thought I'd found the answer to all my problems, and I'd told myself that you guys were okay, that you'd moved on. I thought the postcards were enough proof that I was alive and well."

"As opposed to a phone call?" I sobbed, "Or a visit? Gia how could you have left like that?" 

"I don't know," she admitted, "I don't know. I wish I did. Maybe I was being selfish, maybe I wasn't thinking, but all I didn't think that-"