50. Lilian
Chapter 5 0
Lilian
The nightmare… My memories play on a never-ending loop. And every day that goes by, I remember more of my childhood. Not only bad things.
Happy days. Of my mother and my father.
But it always ends the same. With his hands around my throat and Sebastian saving me.
I sit at the window ledge in my old room at Uncle Marc’s, staring out.
As soon as the doctors discharged me, Marc took me home—away from Sebastian. And maybe that’s good for now.
The door creaks open, and my uncle, followed by Landon and Levi, enters with a tray of pancakes.
“Here you go.” Uncle Marc places the tray on my lap. “Pancakes and strawberries. Your favorite.”
“Thanks.” My hands tremble as I pick up the fork, diving in. I’m still not completely back to my old form.
I take another bite of the pancakes, savoring the sweetness of the strawberries. Uncle Marc clears his throat. “So, Lil, how are you feeling today? ”
I shrug. “Fine.” I don’t really want to talk about my health or my feelings. There’s something else I want to talk about, but no one wants to, so why even bother…
I tried to talk to Uncle Marc, but he has dodged my questions. He will realize soon enough that I won’t give up. I need to know the truth. Need to know if I somehow can make him forgive and forget.
Just like I forgave Sebastian.
I set down my fork, looking directly at my uncle. “Can we please just talk about this? About our families. About why you hate the Barrons so much.”
Marc regards Landon and Levi as if seeking their support. “Lil, I don’t think now is the best time—”
“Tell her the truth,” Levi interrupts.
Landon nods in agreement. “Or we will.”
With a deep sigh, Uncle Marc drags a chair over and sits, his foot tapping restlessly on the floor. “Alright.”
My heart rate quickens, a mixture of anticipation and dread coursing through my veins. Part of me wants to know everything, to finally understand what has haunted our family for so long. But another part of me is terrified of what I might learn.
“Where do I start?” His leg bounces up and down.
I cross my arms. “How about why you broke us up in college.”
“How do you—Never mind. John Barron and I… We made an agreement. We decided it was best if you and Sebastian ended your relationship.”
“And why?”
“We thought it’s the best given our shared history.”
“Why?” My voice breaks. “You had no right to meddle. ”
“Please try to understand. We wanted to save you both from more pain down the road.”
“And by doing that, you put us through more than necessary,” I say. “Do you have any idea how much it hurt when Sebastian and I broke up? When I thought he’d simply used me? And left me alone, like my pare—”
Marc bows his head.
“Tell her the other thing,” Levi says.
“What other thing?” I ask.
Marc averts my eyes. “I tried to get you to move back to us after you were living alone in the apartment.”
“He hired some men to ransack your apartment that night,” Landon says.
“They were instructed not to hurt you,” Uncle Marc says. “Nothing serious would have happened. I’m sorry. I… I couldn’t have you near them anymore, and it was the perfect opportunity.”
All that to get me away from Sebastian? “Why do our families hate each other so much? So much that you’d rather make me fear for my life than try to get over it?”
Marc flinches at the accusation in my tone. But I need to know the full truth if I’m ever going to move forward.
“Tell me,” I demand. “Why do our families hate each other so much?”
“I-It’s not so simple.” Marc fidgets with his hands.
“Marc blames John for your parents’ deaths,” Landon continues in his usual detached voice. “And John feels the same about Marc.”
“That’s the start between John and me. But it all started earlier. See, your mother, Rose, was like family to John Barron. He cared for her like… a brother. ”
“They knew each other, too?”
“Too?” Uncle Marc asks.
“Sloan told me she and my mother were best friends.”
“Yes, from college. They all met there,” Levi says.
My heart races. “My father, too?”
“Yes.” Marc meets my gaze, his eyes clouded with old pains. “James… he struggled. John outdid him at everything—grades, sports, business. Your mother was the only trophy James ever won over John. And he clung to her desperately.”
My hands curl into fists.
Marc continues. “After college, your father’s jealousy and insecurities grew. His business failed, and his pride crumbled. The drinking got worse.”
Images of my Dad’s face filled with rage, calling me a spoiled brat, flash in my mind. “Is that why he was always so angry?”
“Do you remember him?” Landon asks.
“I remember Mom protecting me from him,” I say. “At least, I think she did. The memories are hazy, but they feel real. He looked at me and questioned what I was still doing here. It could be my fantasy going wild, but…” It’s so real. Like I can hear every noise, feel the aura in the room, my skin prickling with goosebumps.
Uncle Marc rubs a hand over his beard. “Lil, whatever I tell you—your parents loved you. Your mother did what she thought was right to protect you, caught between her love for James and the harsh reality of his condition. Your father became paranoid. The pills and the alcohol were messing with his head. He thought you weren’t his daughter but John’s. He thought Rose cheated on him. At first, it was arguments.” Marc pauses. “But over time, your father grew more violent. Your mother tried to protect you from the worst of it. ”
Protect me… like telling me to hide from the monsters.
He continues. “Your mother said she had it under control, but as things spiraled, your father became a danger to himself, your mother, and you. That day she did what she felt was necessary.”
I whisper, almost afraid of the answer, “What did she do?”
He hesitates, gathering himself. “Reports said it was a knife fight. Your mother defended herself, but your father… She made an impossible choice. She sacrificed herself for you. Unfortunately, the wounds were too grave. By the time help arrived, it was too late for them both.”
My hands fly to my mouth, muffling a small sound—a whimper or a sob—that escapes me, the room spinning around me. The pool of blood beneath my feat. Mom’s weak voice.
It all makes sense now. The little girl inside the closet.
Tears stream down my cheeks, unbidden and unchecked. My heart aches for the pain my mother must have endured, for the love and protection she offered me in the face of such darkness. And for my father, consumed by the demons within him, driven to a place where he could neither love nor be loved.
The real monsters weren’t hiding under my bed.
They were inside my own home.
I double over, sobs wracking my body. Uncle Marc moves to sit beside me, wrapping me in his arms.
“Shhh. Your father loved you very much.”
I blink back tears. “He didn’t. He hated me. What did I do?”
Marc squeezes me. “You did nothing wrong. He didn’t hate you. You were the one light in his darkness, though he struggled to show it. Despite everything, you were still his little girl.”
“Why? Why couldn’t he see how much I needed him? That mom needed him? ”
“Sometimes the monsters we battle are in our minds, our hearts. Your father fought them every day. He tried. For you. But in the end, they overpowered him.”
My heart splinters, and for the first time, I allow myself to grieve for the man my father could have been. Knowing that even though he couldn’t save himself from the darkness, he still tried his best to protect me from it.
After what feels like hours, my tears slowly ebb. Levi sits at the windowsill, and Landon leans against the wall.
“You okay?” Uncle Marc asks.
I nod, my throat tight. “Yeah, I’m okay. But there’s still something I don’t understand.” I glance between Uncle Marc and my brothers. “Why do you blame John for what happened? And why was Sebastian there that day?”
“Your mother, she called me that day,” Uncle Marc says. “But I was on a business trip, up in the air. I didn’t get the message until it was too late.”
My heart clenches, imagining my mother’s desperation, her fear.
“In her panic, your mother also called John. She begged him to get you out of the house. She was terrified. Absolutely terrified.”
Tears sting in my eyes once more.
“Your father probably overheard the conversation. In his mind, your mother telling John to save you was proof that you were John’s daughter. Even though it wasn’t true.”
Anger and sorrow war within me. How could my father have been so consumed by his delusions?
“John had Sebastian with him that day. So they drove straight to the mansion, not wanting to waste a second. ”
“We told Sebastian to keep quiet about what he saw. About what he did,” Levi says.
“So, if they helped. Why—”
“Because John is the reason my brother was jealous.” Uncle Marc stands up, pacing the room. “John was his fixation. If John didn’t exist, my brother would have been fine. If Rose hadn’t called John, everything would have been fine. If I had picked up my phone, I could have prevented it…” Marc’s voice raises. “John was there when I wasn’t. When your parents… I should have stopped my brother before—”
“Uncle Marc—”
“But I didn’t because I couldn’t bear locking my brother in some mental hospital. In the beginning, I even believed in his madness, and Rose lost her trust in me.”
The room is quiet except for Uncle Marc’s heavy breathing. His pain seeps into every crevice of the room, thick and suffocating. The weight of his guilt, his regret, his anger—everything. And I get it. I really do.
He’s been carrying this burden for years, blaming himself for not being there when Mom and Dad needed him most. For not seeing the signs earlier, for not getting Dad the help he so desperately needed.
And then there’s John Barron. The man who seemingly had it all. The one who always outshone my father, even in the darkest moments. I can see how easy it would be for Uncle Marc to transfer all that pain, all that anger, onto him.
Onto the Barrons.
But it’s not fair. It’s not right.
Uncle Marc’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “That night, after it happened, John and I… we had a terrible fight. Screaming and punching. We barely spoke until you met Sebastian in college and got close to him and his sister. ”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. All this hate. And for what? Because of some old rivalry? Because of my father’s illness?
John didn’t cause my father’s illness. He didn’t force him to pick up that bottle, to swallow those pills. And he sure as hell didn’t make him hurt Mom or me.
No, that was all on Dad. His demons, his choices.
And as much as it hurts to admit, as much as I want to cling to the fantasy of the perfect father, I know the truth now. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, felt it in the bruises on my skin, the scars on my heart.
But Uncle Marc… He can’t let go. He’s so consumed by his own guilt, his own pain, that he’s let it fester into this all-consuming hatred. Just like with my father.
Sebastian…
A pang shoots through me at the thought of him. At the memory of his arms around me, his lips on mine. At the way, he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
And now I know why. I know what he saw that day, what he did. He saved me. He saved me from my own father.
And Uncle Marc hates him for it. Hates him for being there when he couldn’t be, for doing what he couldn’t do.
It’s not any of their fault.
It’s just… It’s a fucking tragedy. A mess of pain and anger and regret that’s been passed down through generations, poisoning everything it touches.
And I’m caught in the middle of it.
My voice trembles as I speak. “This has to stop. This cycle of blame and anger is destroying us. It destroyed my parents, and it’s gonna destroy us, too, if we don’t let it go.”
Uncle Marc stops pacing, his shoulders slumping .
Landon speaks up. “You should tell her the news.”
Marc snarls at him, but Landon doesn’t back down. “Go on, tell her.”
My eyes flick between them, confused. “What is it?”
“John and I talked and agreed that nothing will stand in the way of you and Sebastian anymore. And it was wrong of us to try to separate you two back then. I’m sorry.”
They made up?
“I also thanked John for saving you that day.” Marc rolls his eyes. “And Sebastian, too. You’re here because of them.”
Despite the lingering hurt, a smile tugs at my lips. Finally, after all these years.
I jump up, throwing my arms around him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Will you eat now?”
I nod against his chest, silent tears staining his shirt, feeling a weight lift off my chest. It’s not gonna be easy, I know that. There’s so much pain, so much that happened. It doesn’t just go away.
But this is a start. A chance for healing, for moving forward.
And Sebastian…
He’s been through so much.
I need to see him. I need to tell him that I know, that I understand. That I forgive him. That I’m grateful.
That I love him. But first.
“I want to go back. To my parents house.”