River
Roaming most of the ground floor of the house and still not finding my parents, I almost give up the search and go to the wood house. However, there's a weight in my chest which keeps me wandering after them. They were talking about something earlier, something that seemed to be serious by the way they carried their dour expressions. It seems rather out of character for them to hide something from me, so the curiosity is clawing its way further into me.
Curiosity never killed the cat, right?
Chewing at the inside of my mouth in irritation that fifteen minutes have gone by and I still haven't found them, I make my way past people, most of whom I've never met before in my life, and ascend the stairs, starting for my parents' bedroom on the left wing of the house. Knocking three consecutive times, I wait rather impatiently to see whether they're here or not. Despite the distant noise of chatter from downstairs, I can hear low, hurried voices from the other side of the door, confirming my assumptions.
A quick moment later, my father appears in front of me after swinging the door open towards him, his hand is still clutching the doorknob as if it's ready to close it as quick as it opened it. He looks several years above his age, the gloomy circles under his eyes show for the tiredness of running his own business. He's always reminded me that money is sweet, but you won't take it to the grave.
It seems like nowadays he's not listening to his own wisdom.
"River," he speaks, his tone a little surprised.
"What's going on?" I ask, my brows furrowing. My mother steps into my field of vision from behind him, a heavy sigh escapes her straight lips as she eyes me wearingly.
It's weird to see my mother worried, she's the most positive person you can ever meet. Nothing can stress her.
"River," she repeats my dad's words, but only above a whisper, like I've found something out that I shouldn't have known.
"Come in, son. I don't want anyone else hearing." My dad says, honing my concern.
"Hear what?" I glance between them, stepping further forwards as the door envelopes the three of us in this monstrously large room that suddenly feels small.
Quiet.
I've only just realised how hard it is to open my eyes. I haven't had any sleep.
"Mum, dad, what's happening?" My lids easily slide shut for a few seconds too long against the tiredness that burns my eyes.
Mum runs a hand through her hair as she sits down on the loveseat placed at the end of the bed, while dad reaches for his glass of water on a side table and takes a drink. Both are in their own world, both are distant, both look worried.
"Mum, dad." I speak, raising my voice slightly – it's the only way to grab their attention.
"It's probably nothing, River." My mother starts with a wave of her hand, her body language attempts to dismiss the seriousness of the thick air but her eyes give it away – it's most probably something.
"Honey, don't give him false hope," My father words are soft but tinged with fret. He turns to me, glass in hand. "We weren't going to speak to you until after the reception. But, seems like we're not good at hiding things." His eyebrows rise with the last sentence.
"Far from," I nod, swallowing the nervousness.
"We..." There's a pause as my father concentrates on the ground holding him, maybe trying to find the right words to say. "We received a phone call from Susan Convey."
"And the police," Mum inputs.
In this split second, the weight from my eyelids shifts to join that which is already heavy in my chest. Nick's mother. The police. What's happened?
After breathing in a deep breath, my mother explains further.
"Nick hasn't been home for the past two weeks, ever since..." The words trail of to silence.
"Since she died." I say, my voice cracks.
At my words, I see her grimace for a fraction of a second before looking down at her lap.
"Yes," my father says.
He holds my gaze for a few moments, his eyes hollows filled with something along the lines of despondency. I wonder how much happier they would've been if my parents had adopted another kid other than myself. I came to them with baggage I didn't even know I carried and they've accepted me as their own.
"He hasn't been in contact or anything, no one knows where he is," my attention returns to my mother who is still staring at her lap. "They're opening a missing person case." She finishes and looks up at me.
Lifting herself from her seat, she shortens the distance between us, reaching out to hold my arm with an empathetic touch. Unfortunately, she doesn't know that there is very little you can do to make me feel better at a time like this.
"They want to ask you some questions, maybe you can help find out where he is." She says the last part with a weak tongue.
She is not my biological mother, but if I were ever to meet mine, she would have a lot to prove, and even then I wouldn't hold here on the same level of greatness as Brenda Parker. She's a badass mother who knows exactly what is right for me and has the best heart of gold.
"River," my father's voice steals my attention. "Everything is going to be okay."
I often go to my father for advice and he usually says the same thing, everything is going to be okay. And he's always right, it always does end up okay. Yet, I feel that this time, the words aren't fitting right, they're not sitting well.
What have you done to Nick, River?
***
Nick needed my help and I wasn't there for him. He fucked up big time, but I was too wound up in a spiral of anger that I couldn't see that like the times he had fought with his father and came to me for help, he was coming to me for help from the start, and I didn't give him a chance.
As cold as it sounds, there's a small part of me that never wants to see his face, that couldn't care less where he is or what he's done. But now, especially after the voicemail he left, his words have been circling in my mind and I can't get him out.
Where is he?
Has he hurt himself?
Why couldn't you just answer the phone when he called?
Just like how I didn't answer the phone the night of Emily's accident, I didn't answer the phone when Nick called. If I did, maybe I would know where he is, maybe his mother wouldn't be worried where her son is.
Maybe you wouldn't be worried about where he is.
My thoughts have distracted my brain so much that now is the third time that I've walked too far past the kitchen and into the dining room. All I want is to get to the woodhouse and speak to the boys, see whether they have any idea where Nick is. Yet, every time I attempt to walk to the kitchen I'm either interrupted by a guest or hindered by my thoughts and my feet seem to have a mind of their own and lead me into a different room.
"River," speaks a familiar voice from behind me.
I twist my body around to the entrance of the dining room to see a sight I haven't seen since I found out I wasn't going to be a father anymore. It's Georgia, but hardly recognisable. Her swollen, bloodshot eyes don't linger on mine for too long before flickering to the floor, her hands are crossed over her abdomen in a vulnerable manner, squeezed together. She's dressed in a simple black top and jeans and wears nothing on her face except for a woeful expression.
I wouldn't have thought it was Georgia at first glance, but I've seen her like this before, it's hard to ignore.
"Georgia," I reply, my mouth dry. "Thank you for coming."
I don't know what else to say to be frank, I haven't spoken to her since we broke up.
Her head lifts to face me as she tries a fragile smile.
"I'm so sorry," the smile vanishes.
I feel like she's apologising for multiple things, not just Emily.
"I'm sorry too," I reply, meaning it.
There was a point where I really did like her, she was funny and upbeat. After Flo kissed me and disappeared, after the miscarriage, after my unfaithfulness, everything broke down and I guess she broke down with it. She changed, but I'm partly to blame. It wasn't just her fault, alas it takes two to tango.
As Lea would say, I was a dickhead. But I'm hoping that has changed.
"River," she begins. "I've done some bad things, to you and Lea, and I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear right now but I want to apologise for anything that I've done wrong."
I've figured that it takes bad things to happen for people to put their pride aside and do the right thing. That's why I'm not completely surprised at Georgia's words, but I've done as much wrong as her, if not more.
Gathering the necessary words to string into a sentence, I think of how Emily would respond to this if she were in my position. She's the good twin afterall, I would never exceed her in kindness.
"If anyone needs to apologise, it's me. I didn't deal with certain situations well, and I'm sorry for that. You didn't deserve the wrong that I did to you, and hope you can forgive me."
With each passing word I watch as the tears build on the edges of her eye lids, threatening to overflow and spill. Quickly, she averts her eyes to the ceiling above and tilts her head backwards. I'm guessing she's done a fair amount of crying and is tired of it by now – I understand.
"Of course, as long as you can do the same for me." She says with a shaky voice and a quivering lip.
It's so hard to watch her like this. Recalling back to the moment when she told me she lost the baby, I remember it was this same situation. We were standing a few feet apart with heavy chests and the pain at the back of the throat that screams at your eyes to cry.
That hurt her, bad. I hurt her, bad.
Just as I'm about to reply, I jerk in my place at the sound of a gunshot. My head snaps in the direction of the garden, eyes straining to see through the glass of the dining room wall. The sound was close and loud.
It came from the direction of the woods.
Like a train on a track the realisation hits me and all I can think of is Lea.
***
Authors note:
'SUP?
I'm on a roll, I updated twice! But I needed to do the Nick and Gunshot chapters separately, they wouldn't fit together (trust, I tried).
I keep thinking it's the end, but then as I write, I understand that it's not. The story is starting to write itself out, and I'm so so so motivated and so excited to write even more. This was a hard chapter though for some reason, but it's getting there. I really hope you enjoy it, even though it's sad.
I love how the character ties are slowly being tied, especially with Georgia and Nick, we finally get to see who they really are, and not just assume that they're the mean girl/bad guy villains and they actually have a story.
Thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate the love and support. I think about you all the time, about what you want to read and how it's such an amazing feeling to make you happy by updating even if it's for a few minutes. I'm so grateful to have you, honestly, these aren't just words on the internet, I'm genuinely so happy that you're here and still reading.
I hope you're enjoying the story, stick around because there will be an update very soon!
Stay beautiful (you always are),
Indie xoxo