***1 month ago****
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“I like Jake.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that out when you called him hot for like the thousandth time,” he quipped.
“But you can’t blame me. He really is hot,” I defended between laughs, to which he made a face – however it wasn’t long before he betrayed a chuckle as well.
“Although, I don’t just like him because of that,” I piped up in the mirthful decline. “I’ve never seen a male lead so sure of what he has with the girl, like Jake is. He’s not that typical possessive alpha male, or that cheesy guy who is always reading off lines from Pinterest.”
“I feel attacked,” Hawk fake gasped.
“Oh, you know what I mean,” I remarked, chortling softly. “He’s just a guy who knows what he feels and believes in it without ever being swayed. Despite his friends’ taunting that he’d changed, or even when Kiera doubted him and their relationship, he never gave up on what they had. And I don’t know, I just think it’s pretty amazing – not many of us are able to love like that, you know?”
“Wow!” Sure enough, I traced that to be met with a smiling Hawk.
I felt my lips curl into a small smile as well as I stared puzzled back at him. “What?”
“It's just you.”
“Me?” I echoed, voice coming out in a mix of surprise and confusion.
“Yeah. Do you know what I think?” When I shook my head in the negative, he added, “I think that you're a romantic at heart.”
The laugh that slipped off my lips was instant. Me, a romantic? My whole deal with Hawk came about because of my total lack of romance. Seriously, romance and I were more incompatible than fire and ice. Hence, my asking, “SpongeBob, are you sure we are talking about the same person here?”
That earned a chuckle from him, but he still maintained his stance. “I know it might not seem like it, but it’s true though. You said that you don't know much about romance and how love works, but I don't think that's true. I think that you know a lot more about it than you let on, but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to accept that.”
I fell silent at that, feeling his words tug at something within me whose existence I’d left unacknowledged. But to him, I said, “that’s crazy. Why would I not want to fall in love? Isn't that like every teenage girl's dream – to run off with Prince Charming into the sunset while riding on a unicorn?”
“Well, I can't argue with you on the unicorn thing. Come on, who hasn't thought of riding off on a unicorn?” He mused, staring dreamily into space as he spoke. Although, he was quick to make a hurried addition of: “I mean, most people, not me. Because I've definitely not thought about that – at all.”
Despite myself, I couldn’t help my amusement at his antics. But soon, I was returning to voicing my thoughts from earlier. “But really, why would I not want to fall in love?”
“I don't know, B,” he answered honestly. “Maybe there's something you've kept inside you, which is holding you back.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I have no idea. I just figured I should say something like that ‘cause it sounds deep and meaningful,” he admitted with a laugh – something I was soon joining in.
Although, deep down, I couldn't help pondering on those words: ‘maybe there’s something you've kept inside you which is holding you back.’
Could that be true? Could Hawk be right about me not wanting to open myself to love? But then, why would I not want to do that?
I stayed, searching through my thoughts for possible answers to any of those things. But after several unsuccessful attempts at doing so, I decided it was best to lay my thoughts to rest for now.
Besides, my attention was soon shifted to something Hawk was doing which left me bubbling with mirth.
So, yeah, those puzzling thoughts were soon moved to the back of my mind.
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After hearing what Ria had to say earlier today, those thoughts which I thought I’d pushed away, suddenly came rushing back to my mind.
But this time though, I’d found the answers for them – all which led me here; to that shadow. But I was determined to face it this time, instead of ignoring its existence. And that was exactly what I was about to do now.
So, drawing out a shaky breath, I gave the door in front of me a knock. And a second later, the familiar voice came floating through.
“Hold on. Be there in a minute.”
After what seemed like hours, even though it was barely seconds, the door opened to reveal my mom. Though her pretty features remained the same as the last time I saw her, there was a certain tiredness to her face which I didn't fail to notice – the same way I didn’t fail to notice the way her lips parted wordlessly now, eyes widening slightly as she sized in on who her visitor was.
“Sweetie,” she breathed, her initial surprise giving way to a smile which didn't leave her face. It remained as she eagerly held the door open, saying, “come in, please.”
I nodded, letting myself in the room. It was pretty much the same as the last time I was here, with the only difference now, being the clothes which were spread across the bed and couch.
Mom, however, was now moving at superhuman speed as she cleared out some clothes from the bed, urging me to sit soon after. But when I complied, only for her to just stand awkwardly at the side, I asked, “aren't you going to sit too?”
Her reply was: “oh.” She seemed surprised that I'd asked her that, or perhaps it was surprising to her that I’d spoken at all.
Not like I didn’t understand why though. Since finding out the truth, I’d ignored all her attempts at reaching out to me – her calls and messages had all gone unanswered. Walter even told me she came by the house one time, but I was out.
Now, though, she was settling in the space beside me, the situation growing even more awkward after that, neither of us saying anything.
I simply stared straight ahead, as though there was a writing on the wall which I had to decipher. She however, occupied herself with rubbing her hands on her thighs – a nervous habit of hers.
We spent almost a minute more like this before I finally decided to break the silence. “Are you going somewhere?” I gestured over to her suitcase which was laid wide open on the floor, a few clothes in them.
“Yeah, I'm leaving here.”
“You're leaving?” I echoed, a note of surprise in my voice which I couldn’t quite hide. But why was I even surprised though? It was mom after all. Hence, the dry chuckle that left my lips now. “Of course you are. You've always liked leaving whenever things don't go your way.”
“Brooke,” she started, eyes flashing with...hurt, or was it shame? Probably a mix of both.
“I regret leaving the way I did five years ago. I never should have left you, the same way I never should…” She stopped to suck in a breath before adding, “I never should have lied about what happened with your dad.”
Her eyes were already forming a small pool now. And although the sight stirred something in me, my expression remained impassive as she went on.
“And I’m truly sorry. I know apologizing would not change anything, but I really am sorry. I wish I could go back in time and change what I did, but I can’t. But what I can do is promise that I would do everything in my power to make it up to you, and to win your trust again. And no, I'm not leaving the city. I got an apartment last week, and I'll be moving there tomorrow.”
“Really?”
At her affirmation, I couldn't help but ask, “but what about the church?”
“I thought about it, and I decided I won't be going back.”
“But it means so much to you,” I mused, unable to keep it to myself. I knew how much she’d devoted herself to that church.
“But you mean so much more,” she stated soulfully, her glossy eyes holding mine. The sincerity in them made me look away – albeit it took quite the effort to do so.
“And besides,” she continued. “Even though I really did enjoy working in that church, you were right – it was an escape for me. I used it as an escape from reality because I wasn't ready to face the truth of what I’d done; to face that your dad and I were over; and to face you.
The guilt was nibbling at me every second, and I knew that if I had stayed then, if I had to look at you every day, I would end up blurting out everything.
Keeping that lie was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Whenever you called, I'd look at you and think: ‘would she still smile this way at me if she found out? Would she hate me?’ And I'd get scared.
So, working in the church, spending all my time trying to help people, it just became my way of escaping all of my wrongs. If I did enough good deeds, then maybe I would be worthy enough of forgiveness – that’s what I used to think.”
Despite my efforts, I felt something at the back of my eyes burn as I listened to her.
“But that's all over now. You know, I went to see your dad the other day, and we had a really long talk. I had a lot to say, a lot to apologize for. And when it was over, it was like a big burden had been lifted off my chest. For the first time in a really long time, I felt free and at ease.
I got a glimpse of what true forgiveness is like; not the kind which I selfishly sought after all those years in the church, but one which came from finally doing the right thing. I finally faced my mistakes – I didn't try to hide them, nor did I try to run away from them like I did before.
After that, I knew more than ever that I don't want to run away anymore. I'm done running. I want to be right here with you.” Her voice was coming out all funny now because of how often she choked back tears as she spoke. But she went on anyway.
“I'm not escaping this time. I'm ready to take it all – your hate, your anger, or anything you throw at me. But I'm never leaving again, honey. Never.”
“Mom,” I breathed, the burning in my eyes giving way to a dam that came spilling freely down my face as I reached for her hand in a small squeeze. “Don’t ever keep anything from me again.”
“I won’t. I promise I won’t,” she croaked as we went in for a hug, the both of us a teary-eyed mess.
We stayed like that for a long time, finding comfort in each other.
Moments later though, when the crying had ceased, and the awkwardness had died down, we stayed talking about a number of things like school, prom, her plans after leaving the church and stuff like that.
However, I was soon putting a pause on that to focus on the matter that brought me here in the first place.
“Mom.”
“Yes, honey.”
“Seeing what happened with you and dad was pretty hard for me, you know?”
She nodded, and I took that as my cue to continue. “You guys looked so happy together, so in love. And it all just seemed so perfect – well, until ‘that happened.’ You looked so sad and broken, and dad was pretty much a mess himself. And I remember just looking at you from the door; watching the way you cried as you packed your things.”
She gave a bitter smile at the memory.
“And I remember how it felt to see you like that. I found myself thinking that if love was so beautiful and all, then why did it leave you and dad so broken? How could a simple emotion like that have so much power over people, over relationships, over families?
I didn't know it then, but a part of me decided that I didn't want to let myself be controlled by that emotion too. I didn't want to be happy for a while, only to experience that heart wrenching pain if something were to go wrong.
So whenever someone tried to pull closer, I always pulled away. I didn't want to take any relationship seriously, because I didn't want to be that girl who falls for the guy, and then ends up hurting over him because she loves him.” I chuckled at the last part – the sound dry.
“I never let myself feel anything, and I guess it's because there was always that part of me which believed that if you don't love, you don't hurt. And I didn’t want to hurt – not in the way you guys did.” I felt myself choke up again, leaving me to swallow softly before going on. “So, for the longest time, I sort of just closed myself off emotionally.”
“It must have been so hard,” she remarked, voice compassionate.
“Yeah, I guess. But I was in control of what I felt, or at least that's what I thought. To be honest, love isn't the only thing I was scared to get into. Whenever I tried to be with someone…” I shot her a look when I said, ‘be with someone’ so she'd get just what I meant.
And if her small: “oh,” was anything to judge by, then I was pretty sure she got it.
“I'd always freeze,” I continued. “I’d just find myself unable to do it. And it's because whenever I think of sex, I think of you and dad, and what happened between the both of you; of how cheating ruined your relationship. And without realizing it, having sex became something scary for me, because all I could think of was that it’d probably ruin things the way it did with the both of you.
And I didn't want that. So, I'd freeze every time, and I'd tell myself: ‘maybe next time.’ But the next time would just be the same as the last.”
“Oh, honey,” mum cooed, holding me in her arms. And I held back – tightly in fact.
When I pulled away, it was to say, “you might be wondering why I'm telling you all this, right?” She must have realized I wasn't expecting an answer when I immediately added, “I also don't want to run away anymore, to run from all that's been plaguing me. And you could also call it closure.
This whole thing started with you, and I think it's only right that it ends with you as well. I've lived with all these ideas in my head for years. And now, I don't want them anymore. I want to be free of them; I want to be free to love without fear that something would go wrong – without fearing that sooner or later, I'd have to pull away.”
“That's true love, sweetie. You don't think about anything, you just feel yourself fall.”
Her words reminded me of Miss Green's from the other day.
“True love,” I repeated, letting the words roll slowly off my tongue.
Mom, on her part, simply nodded. “That’s the kind of love that's worth risking everything for,” she explained, a soft smile gracing her features.
“Like the kind you had with dad?”
“Yes. Like that.”
“And how does one know true love?”
“You just have to listen to your heart.”
“Mom, that's so cliché,” I quipped between chuckles, and even mom betrayed a small chuckle as well.
However, she was soon saying, “well, clichés can be helpful too.”
“But they are just so weird. It’s not like the heart speaks or something; it’s just a part of the body.”
“That might be true when you're viewing it literally. But when that moment comes, you’ll see. What you really want will come flashing through your mind so strongly that you won’t be able to ignore it.”
I mulled over those words for a while.
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I left mom's hotel after spending a few hours with her. In all, it was a nice time, and I was glad I’d decided to go see her.
As I drove home now, there was a lightness in my chest as though I'd just unloaded a burden. And indeed, I had. Those fears which I held on to for so long, were completely out of my mind. And I felt refreshed to say the least.
But even more than that, I felt confident in myself – that whatever decision I made from now on, was entirely on me. It wouldn't be based on the imprints which my parents’ relationship left in my life. All that was behind me.
Now, it was just me – no fears, no shadows. I knew I’d be fine. But if ever any doubts crept in again, I had my heart to turn to. And like mom said, all I had to do was just listen to it. Just listen.