Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
VIOLET
Isat at the kitchen table with my coffee curled between both hands and my phone sitting silent next to it while I stared at the clear blue skies out the window.
Lykos was at work. I’d handled a few administrative items for my job, but those took less than an hour. I was a therapist, and my whole job was pretty much talking to people which at this moment, I wasn’t really doing.
Dimitros and Aria had insisted on going to school, if even for half a day, which left me to experience the all too quiet penthouse.
I didn’t think a long-term sabbatical would work for me. In fact, I might go insane because my mind kept drifting and evaluating everything.
And at this moment, I was thinking about my mom.
God, it had been ten years. I shut my mind and emotions whenever I thought of my parents, but for some reason today it didn’t work.
At least not when it came to my mom. Maybe it had something to do with the fact I finally had my own daughter in my life and it made me reflect on my own relationship with my mother.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
God, sometimes I hated the fact that I cared so much.
“Violet?”
I looked up to find Aria standing at the doorway, wearing her school uniform, her hair in a high ponytail and her eyes clear as the skies outside.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”
She smiled sheepishly and walked toward me. “I was and gave them three hours. Papa said it’s okay to come home early.”
“And Dimitros?”
She shrugged. “He’s still there. Probably flirting with girls.”
I laughed softly. “That’s normal for a teenager.”
She dropped her book bag, sat in the chair beside me, and tucked her legs underneath herself. “Why are you sad, Violet?"
“I’m not.”
She wrinkled her nose. “It sure looked like you were.”
I blinked at her perceptiveness. “Uh…” I considered lying for a moment, but then decided against it. “I was thinking about my mom.”
“Your mom makes you sad just like my mom made me sad?”
Those words hit hard and I realized a conversation with Aria would have to happen soon. I’d avoided bringing it up with Lykos partly because I was terrified that the truth would break this fragile bond I’d developed with Aria.
“Not sure if it’s exactly like that,” I said slowly. “But yes, it makes me sad and I miss my mom sometimes.”
Aria reached for my hand and brought it to her chest, hugging it. “Is it bad that I don’t miss my mom? Maybe I’m a bad person.”
I weighed my words carefully before answering. “First of all, you’re not a bad person. Second, Amara spent most of the time away, so it’s quite natural you’re not missing her.”
I watched her inhale deeply and tilt her head, considering my words seriously.
“Hmmm,” she said. “That makes sense. Your mom was there for you?”
I swallowed. “When she could be, yes.”
“I wish my mom was there for me too.” Her expression saddened. “I wish you were my mom.”
My heart shuddered at her innocent words while she watched me with her big eyes, never suspecting how close her wish was. But I couldn’t go there. Not yet. Not now. We needed time.
“Amara was sick,” I said slowly. “She didn’t know what she was doing and I’m convinced that if she had been lucid, she would have never hurt anyone. Never.”
Aria didn’t seem convinced.
“You should call your mom,” she declared instead. “Tell her you miss her and love her.”
“You’re very wise.”
“I know.”
I smiled despite myself.
She leaned sideways against me, the gesture so natural like she’d been doing it forever, and I felt my chest tighten. Her hair tickled my shoulder as she peered toward the laundry.
“Will you call her?”
“Maybe.”
I looked down at her little hand resting beside mine on the table and my mother’s face flashed into my mind. The way she would hold me when my father wasn’t around. The way she would murmur comforting words to me and Lily. The way she would braid our hair before school.
My throat closed.
Aria reminded me so much of Lily. Same big eyes. Same dramatic flair when she talked with her hands.
Lily would have adored her and so would Mom if she’d had a chance to know her. Instead, there were ten years of silence sitting between my mom and me. Ten years I’d hidden the truth because I was scared of my father and what he might do to Aria.
Aria tilted her head up at me. “You’re sad again.”
I blinked quickly and looked away toward the sink. “I’m not sad.”
“You are.” She frowned. “Your eyes do the shiny thing.”
I swallowed hard. “Maybe just a tiny bit, but it’ll pass.”
She thought about that for a second. “Why don’t you call your mom now?”
A humorless laugh escaped me. “It’s not that easy.”
“Why?”
I stared down into my coffee. “We haven’t talked in a very long time.”
“How long?”
“Ten years.”
Her mouth fell open. “Ten years?” she whisper-yelled. “That’s, like… ancient.”
I huffed out a laugh despite the ache in my chest.
“You’re brave, Violet,” she continued seriously, “just call her.”
I looked at her, considering the simplicity of her words. It was really simple like that. Call her. It would be good to hear her voice, even if I couldn’t tell her about her grandchild or what I’ve been doing for the past ten years.
Aria slid my phone across the table toward me. “Do it now. Tell her you’re sorry for not calling for ten years and then talk to her.”
My fingers curled around the phone while I stared at the screen.
“Okay,” I breathed to myself. “You can do this.”
“Yes, you can.”
Aria jumped to her feet and left the room, then before I could lose my nerve, I scrolled to the number I still knew by heart and hit call.
The ringing started.
Buzzz. Buzzz. Buzzz.
“Hello?”
My breath caught and ten years disappeared with that one word.
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think.
“Hello?” she repeated, cautious now.
My eyes burned. “Hello, Mom.”
A sharp inhale followed. “Violet?”
Tears spilled before I could stop them, and I pressed my hand over my mouth as the first sob escaped me.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”
Sweetheart.
There was no anger in her voice. There were no questions of “Where have you been?” There was only concern in her voice.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out.
“No, no…” Her own voice cracked. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. Don’t cry, darling. Please don’t cry.”
But she was crying too. I could hear it.
Ten years of hurt sat between us on that line, trembling and raw.
“I should’ve called,” I whispered. “I should have been checking up on you. I wanted to so many times—”
“I know. I know, darling.” She broke off on a sob. “Your father… I’m getting a divorce. It’s way overdue.”
Shock rolled through me. “Really?”
“Yes, really. He’s the reason I don’t have my daughters.”
“But I was the one who left her that night,” I whispered.
“Listen to me, Violet. That wasn’t your fault.” There was a hard conviction in her voice and I believed it. “Your father is the root of all evil. Never you.”
I shut my eyes hard as tears slid down my cheeks and the kitchen blurred around me.
For the past ten years, those were the exact words I craved to hear. As simple as they were, those words started my own healing.
We talked for a while.
About Lily. She put flowers on her grave last weekend.
About my career. She kept tabs on my education and even came to watch my graduation walk. She read my published work in medical journals.
“I’ll call you again… soon. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, Violet,” she rasped before hanging up.
I didn’t tell her about Aria. Not yet. I had to talk to Lykos first, and we needed to tell Aria… together.
And then, maybe—just maybe—we could be a real family.