"What the fuck?" I whispered, unsure of whether or not to believe the sight in front of my eyes, "What the fuck?"
Gia looked uncomfortable.
I remained silent, unsure of what to say, how to respond, what to feel, what to think. I stared at her, my mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions, from fear, anger, to longing and confusion. And then back to anger.
The chaos parted in my mind, but one thing was clear. My long lost sister, who I'd spent years searching for, worrying for, scared for, she'd come back. Hurricane Gia had come back to her origin, and all I wanted to do was fall to the ground and sob. Or throw a toaster at her, whichever felt better.
"Do you want me to go?" Milo's gentle voice broke through the haze, clearing some of the confusion. His concern was palpable, and so was his need to support me, but this was something I had to do by myself.
"I think that's a good idea," I murmured, not quite looking at him. He nodded curtly, before waving to Gia,
"Welcome back." I heard the door close after him and I grappled with the silence, the reality, the shock of it all.
She grinned, before turning to me, "He got cute. You doing him?"
"Gia," surprised at how calm I'd sounded, "What the hell are you doing here?"
She shifted uncomfortably under my gaze, avoiding mine as if my scrutiny were burning her.
"I...I wanted to see you. I missed you, Mahi." She admitted, her voice wavering.
My heart clenched at her words, anger spewing like venom behind my teeth, "After all these years of us searching for you, the money we spent, the hours we lost...what you came back because you missed me?"
She balled up her fists with anxiety, like she did when she was younger, "Yeah--I thought we could talk, maybe? And I could explain?"
"You want to explain?" I repeated, numbly.
"Yeah," she nodded, "It's complicated, but you have to know I didn't leave because of you."
"So why did you?" I asked meekly, "Why did you leave? Without a note, without so much as a phone call for four years...why?"
Gia's gaze flickered with a mixture of guilt and regret, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of the vulnerable sister I once knew buried beneath the facade of indifference.
"I... I can't tell you everything right now," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "But I promise, Mahi, I had my reasons. It wasn't about you, it was... it was about me."
Her words hung heavy in the air, and I struggled to make sense of it all, the anger dancing sharp on my tongue, so at odds with my need to run into her arms and cry like a child.
"But why now?" I demanded, the bitterness seeping into my voice despite my efforts to remain composed, "Why come back after all this time? Why not sooner?"
Gia hesitated, her eyes clouded with uncertainty, before she finally spoke, her words tinged with regret.
"I... I messed up, Mahi," she admitted, her voice trembling with emotion, "I thought I could handle it on my own, that I didn't need anyone else. But... but I was wrong. And now, I... I need your help."
The vulnerability in her tone struck a chord in me, and I was transported back to all those years I'd prayed at night for her returned, the fantasies I'd concocted about what we would do when we'd reconnected. We'd embrace, forgive everything immediately, cry a little and then live happily ever after.
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-"
"What? That Mom would leave too? How could you have, when all you could think about was yourself." I hadn't meant for my words to sound harsh, but all I knew anymore was anger. It was far too easy for Gia to prance back into my life, and I didn't trust it, not one bit.
"You have to believe me," she pleaded, "I didn't think this would happen. She was always nicer to you, always a lot more kind-"
"Don't give me that," I snapped, "you were her golden child. Her firstborn. The apple of her damn eye. You expect me to believe that she would have stuck around for me? She lived for you. You were her greatest creation. I was just whatever came after."
Tears stung at my eyes, but I kept them at bay. For the first time in my life, I'd felt the tips of honesty form between my teeth, and it had never felt this good to let it all out.
"I was," she admitted, "but the pressure, the fights. You know what she treated me like? After Dad left? She resented me because I reminded her of him. She hit me, she yelled at me, she did all these awful things to me. Things you didn't remember because I protected you from it."
I considered what she said, but had fallen silent in the process. The first rule to surviving this damned family was believing whatever lies they told you.
Your sister was selfish.
Your sister ran away because she was spoiled.
your sister ran away because she didn't love you.
The lies that our mother had fed us over the year had come back to haunt me in more ways than one, and I'd never really dissected the undertones.
"Mom was struggling," she started, "and she refused to go seek help after Dad left. And it was selfish and horrible of me, but me leaving did make things better."
"Oh DID IT?" I started to yell, "Because everything pretty much went to SHIT after you left."
Her eyes gathered tears, but she remained unwavering, "It did. Did you really want to live with mom? The last few years she had become manic, you remember it. She was constantly throwing things, losing control, yelling. We are better for it."
I gaped, "That's not-"
"What?" She snapped, that same fire in her eyes, "I might have been a coward, but look at you. You're Columbia bound, and from what I've heard, you run Crestwood like the damn Navy. You think you would have been this extraordinary if I hadn't left? If I hadn't given you the space to prove yourself?"
"So you could have moved away for college, not when you were sixteen. Not when I-" my voice cracked, "Not when I still needed you."
Her eyes grew sad, "I wish I could tell you how apologetic I am."
"You still can," I whispered.
She looked up at me, "I can?"
"Stay," I implored, "don't leave again."
Her eyes became downcast, "Oh."
That familiar feeling of disappointment gathered in my chest, "You weren't planning on staying, were you?"
She shook her head, "Not permanently. I just have some things to take care of here."
"And what is that?" I whispered.
"You."
---
I didn't know how I'd appeared at Milo's (formerly Cole's) doorstep. But I raised my hand to knock, and felt the door swing open to reveal Cole himself. Shirtless.
He frowned at me, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm not here for you," I rolled my eyes.
"He's out right now" he muttered, "your new little boyfriend. But he'll be back soon." I couldn't help but notice the hint of bitterness in his tone, and it made me hopeful.
"He's not my boyfriend," I replied, not quite meeting his eyes, "But I do need to talk to him. You want to step aside for me?"
He shrugged and moved aside, before covering up with a sweatshirt.
I took a seat at the kitchen island and he grabbed a protein shake from the fridge, both of us unwilling to acknowledge the awkwardness between us.
"So," he started, "how have you been with...y'know-"
"Oh you dumping me for the girl you told me not to worry about?" I snapped, "Yeah, doing great. Fantastic actually."
He looked pained, "I thought we could move past this, Mahi. I cared about you. I still do."
I hated the effect that his words had on me, on my body. Part of me yearned to believe him, but the rational part resisted.
"Oh you do now?" I inquired, "Sure. I believe that."
"Mahi I really thought we could be friends," he started, "we were once upon a time."
"I'm not interested," I muttered, looking away.
"Why not?" he pressed, "I don't know how to exist in a world where you're mad at me."
"Well get used to it," I snapped, "this is how I'm choosing to move on."
"Mahi," he whispered, walking closer to me, "what can I do to make this easier?"
I shrugged, "I don't know."
"You can talk to me," he pressed, "you know that right?"
"No I don't," I finally hissed, "I can't. You know why? My sister showed up at my doorstep last night. And guess who wasn't there for me? You. Because you're dating Lily, and I hate her, and now I hate you."
"Whoa whoa," he raised his hands, "Back up. Gia's back?"
I nodded somberly, "Yeah. Earlier today." I felt the familiar emotions well up on my tongue again. "And I don't know what to do."
As bad as it sounded, it felt good opening up to Cole. He was still the one person who knew about my past intimately. And for some reason, that familiarity was always more comforting than the wildness that Milo and I had.
It felt tame, comfortable, like I could fall back into it at any time, and feel safe. Cole approached me, and did something that shocked even me. He pulled me into a hug, and I felt tears seep out of my eyes.
"I didn't know you were dealing with all of this," he murmured into my hair, "I'm so sorry."
I sobbed into his shirt, against my better judgement, clutching onto him like a child. I tried to fight the emotions, but the need to be held, to be comforted won out soon enough. "How am I supposed to handle this without you?"
He shrugged, "You still have me."
I frowned and pulled back, "What?"
A faraway look bloomed in his eyes and he leaned down, "I don't know, Mahi. I've been thinking I miss our friendship. I know things are different now, but can't we still be friends?"
Friends. I mulled it over, decided I hated that word.
"I don't know if Lily would like that," I commented, searching his eyes.
At the sound of her name, his eyes narrowed, almost with determination.
"That's a non-factor," he whispered. I felt his stomach go flush against mine, his hands creep down my ass, the way they'd done a million times before. His breathing became more labored and his eyes grew hazy with lust.
I gulped the emotions away, felt excitement spur through me. If it was a hookup he wanted, I could give him that, right?
I slid my arms up his chest, felt him crumple a little as he leaned in, his breath hot against my face. I pushed up a little too, until our lips met halfway, and the second that we touched, everything went haywire.
We started kissing as if we'd never kissed before, and he pushed me onto the counter, separating my knees.
I thought about it for a moment, how bad of an idea this was. He was with Lily, and I was with Milo. But was I really? We hadn't talked about it, hadn't discussed what that could. And as bad as it sounded, Cole was here and Milo wasn't.
And by god, it felt good to be touched, to be held. And as we did a hundred times before, he began to leave a trail of hickeys on my neck.
We could do this, I told myself, and no one would have to know. Right?
His teeth seared against my neck, and I let out a sharp gasp of pleasure, undoing something in me.
But on Cole? It had the opposite effect.
He pushed away, and gripped the counter on the opposite end of the island, breathing hard.
"That was a mistake," he muttered to himself, "I'm with Lily."
"It wasn't a mistake," I replied, frantic, "We're good at this."
He then raised his head, gave me a somber look, "Yeah. At messing things up, right?"
Tears burned at the back of my eyes again, and I did my best to hold them at bay, "Oh, so now your morals snap into place. Not a couple minutes ago, though, when you were about to fuck me on the countertop."
He winced at my language, "Mahi-"
"Whatever," I hissed, "I'm leaving." I grabbed my bag and headed out the door, feeling that same disappointment when he didn't stop me. I was tired of being delusional, of being Cole's plaything.
I wondered if Lily was too.
---
author's note:
what do you think?
let me know!