Illusive
Page 65
* * *
My day after he left consisted of more sleep and then domestic goddess work. As much as I disliked housework, I had a good day, and was sitting on my patio with a glass of wine in my hand later that afternoon when Magan called.
“Hey, honey,” I answered as I took a sip of wine.
Silence.
And then a sob tore through the phone, and she managed to say, “Sophia…” and I knew something very terrible had happened.
I shot up out of the chair. “Where are you? I’m coming.” My heart raced in my chest, not knowing what had happened, but fearing something bad.
“At home,” she said in an almost whisper, her sobs coming harder now.
I was already in my kitchen with my car keys in my hand. “I’ll be there soon. Will you be okay until I get there, or should I phone an ambulance or…” Having no idea what she needed, I was at a loss. All I knew was I had to get there fast.
“I don’t need anyone. Except you.” The way she said those last two words slayed me.
I will hunt down whoever did this to her.
We ended the call and I headed out to my car. And I drove as fast as I could to get to my sister. We may not have grown up together or even known about each other until six months ago, but I would do anything for her. She was my only family, and family doesn’t let family down.
* * *
I found her curled up into a ball, sobbing on her bed. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen anyone sob the way she was. Tears pricked my eyes as I realised how devastated she was over whatever had happened.
Sitting on the bed, I dragged her into my arms and held her. Running my hand over her hair, I remained silent while she let her hurt out. We must have sat like that for about half an hour, and when she finally told me what had happened, I knew the hurt and pain she was in would never leave her. This level of heartbreak would sit deep in her soul and cause wounds that would never heal.
I should know because I had those same wounds.
She lifted her head and looked at me. The tears still tracked down her face, and she just let them fall. It would have been pointless to even try to wipe them away because fresh tears would only replace them straight away. “Mum’s gone.”
Those two words pierced my heart, and I was sure it stopped beating for a moment. A shiver ran over my body as the cold chill of disappointment and abandonment filled me. Again.
“From the hospital?” I asked as I tried to swallow the dryness from my throat.
She nodded. “Yes. I went there today and she wasn’t there. When I asked the nurse where she went, they gave me an envelope from her…” A sob escaped from her lips, stealing her words.
“What was in the envelope?” I knew. Deep in my heart, I knew what was in that envelope, but I needed to hear it from her lips. Even after all these years, and all this hurt my mother had caused, I still clung to a tiny sliver of hope that she would change. That she would want me again. And asking silly questions like the one I’d just asked Magan proved how much I clutched that hope.
Agony crumpled her face. “A letter…she’s not coming back, and she told me that you and I should stick together because she can’t be what we need.”
She will never be what we need.
We stared at each other, sharing our pain for a minute or so, and then I pulled her to me, and said, “I’m so sorry, Magan.” I fought the tears rushing at me and swallowed my own sobs sitting in my throat.
I need to be strong for her.
Don’t break down.
Don’t you dare cry.
She cried for another long stretch of time while I held mine back. When she stopped, she lifted her head. “I thought this time was going to be different.”
Her words sat between us in a painful ache. How many times do you let someone trash your trust and abuse the love you’ve given them before you say enough is enough?
I took a deep breath and attempted to give Magan the honesty she deserved. “Honey, our mother doesn’t know how to love. After all these years, I am convinced of that fact. I had hoped that perhaps it would be different for you than it was for me, because it seemed like she may have changed a little in the years between having us. She never visited me after she left, but she visited you, so I thought maybe that meant she would try harder with you. I never wanted to have to say these words to you, but although she gave birth to us, she isn’t a mother. A mother doesn’t abandon her children in the way ours did. And I know you think she was amazing to have visited you twice in your life, but that isn’t enough. A mother should be there to catch her child when she falls, not be the one who causes them to fall.” I took another deep breath, mainly to pull my tears in before they fell. And then I continued. “I will always be here for you. You have my word on that. Anything you need – anything at all – you will have from me.”
She took all of that in while watching me with wide eyes. I wasn’t sure how she would react because I’d never been that forceful with her about my feelings. I’d always kept my thoughts to myself, not wanting to take any hope from her, but this was the last straw with our mother. And for her own sanity and self-esteem, Magan needed to hear those words today. I didn’t want her to spend years questioning her own worth in the same way I had.
Eventually, she blinked and nodded. “I know you’re right, but I think there might be a part of me that will always hope she’ll come back,” she said softly, and I couldn’t fault her for having hope. It was something everyone should live with.
My day after he left consisted of more sleep and then domestic goddess work. As much as I disliked housework, I had a good day, and was sitting on my patio with a glass of wine in my hand later that afternoon when Magan called.
“Hey, honey,” I answered as I took a sip of wine.
Silence.
And then a sob tore through the phone, and she managed to say, “Sophia…” and I knew something very terrible had happened.
I shot up out of the chair. “Where are you? I’m coming.” My heart raced in my chest, not knowing what had happened, but fearing something bad.
“At home,” she said in an almost whisper, her sobs coming harder now.
I was already in my kitchen with my car keys in my hand. “I’ll be there soon. Will you be okay until I get there, or should I phone an ambulance or…” Having no idea what she needed, I was at a loss. All I knew was I had to get there fast.
“I don’t need anyone. Except you.” The way she said those last two words slayed me.
I will hunt down whoever did this to her.
We ended the call and I headed out to my car. And I drove as fast as I could to get to my sister. We may not have grown up together or even known about each other until six months ago, but I would do anything for her. She was my only family, and family doesn’t let family down.
* * *
I found her curled up into a ball, sobbing on her bed. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen anyone sob the way she was. Tears pricked my eyes as I realised how devastated she was over whatever had happened.
Sitting on the bed, I dragged her into my arms and held her. Running my hand over her hair, I remained silent while she let her hurt out. We must have sat like that for about half an hour, and when she finally told me what had happened, I knew the hurt and pain she was in would never leave her. This level of heartbreak would sit deep in her soul and cause wounds that would never heal.
I should know because I had those same wounds.
She lifted her head and looked at me. The tears still tracked down her face, and she just let them fall. It would have been pointless to even try to wipe them away because fresh tears would only replace them straight away. “Mum’s gone.”
Those two words pierced my heart, and I was sure it stopped beating for a moment. A shiver ran over my body as the cold chill of disappointment and abandonment filled me. Again.
“From the hospital?” I asked as I tried to swallow the dryness from my throat.
She nodded. “Yes. I went there today and she wasn’t there. When I asked the nurse where she went, they gave me an envelope from her…” A sob escaped from her lips, stealing her words.
“What was in the envelope?” I knew. Deep in my heart, I knew what was in that envelope, but I needed to hear it from her lips. Even after all these years, and all this hurt my mother had caused, I still clung to a tiny sliver of hope that she would change. That she would want me again. And asking silly questions like the one I’d just asked Magan proved how much I clutched that hope.
Agony crumpled her face. “A letter…she’s not coming back, and she told me that you and I should stick together because she can’t be what we need.”
She will never be what we need.
We stared at each other, sharing our pain for a minute or so, and then I pulled her to me, and said, “I’m so sorry, Magan.” I fought the tears rushing at me and swallowed my own sobs sitting in my throat.
I need to be strong for her.
Don’t break down.
Don’t you dare cry.
She cried for another long stretch of time while I held mine back. When she stopped, she lifted her head. “I thought this time was going to be different.”
Her words sat between us in a painful ache. How many times do you let someone trash your trust and abuse the love you’ve given them before you say enough is enough?
I took a deep breath and attempted to give Magan the honesty she deserved. “Honey, our mother doesn’t know how to love. After all these years, I am convinced of that fact. I had hoped that perhaps it would be different for you than it was for me, because it seemed like she may have changed a little in the years between having us. She never visited me after she left, but she visited you, so I thought maybe that meant she would try harder with you. I never wanted to have to say these words to you, but although she gave birth to us, she isn’t a mother. A mother doesn’t abandon her children in the way ours did. And I know you think she was amazing to have visited you twice in your life, but that isn’t enough. A mother should be there to catch her child when she falls, not be the one who causes them to fall.” I took another deep breath, mainly to pull my tears in before they fell. And then I continued. “I will always be here for you. You have my word on that. Anything you need – anything at all – you will have from me.”
She took all of that in while watching me with wide eyes. I wasn’t sure how she would react because I’d never been that forceful with her about my feelings. I’d always kept my thoughts to myself, not wanting to take any hope from her, but this was the last straw with our mother. And for her own sanity and self-esteem, Magan needed to hear those words today. I didn’t want her to spend years questioning her own worth in the same way I had.
Eventually, she blinked and nodded. “I know you’re right, but I think there might be a part of me that will always hope she’ll come back,” she said softly, and I couldn’t fault her for having hope. It was something everyone should live with.
