32. Sarah
32
SARAH
Six days, sixteen hours, and twenty minutes. That's how long it's been since I left the only true home I've had forever.
There’s no way for Sheila to get to my house back in Glazer Ville without drawing any attention, so I had to leave with the clothes I had at her house and buy some things on the way over. I was able to pick up my car, thank God for that.
My new home is beautiful. It's sad to admit, but I miss Ian. I miss Sheila, too. And Olivia, which is why I've had Sheila go pick her up from school.
They are on break, and normally she'd come home for it, but she has no idea what's going on yet.
I've been thinking of the best way to tell her, but I've been unable to find it. She won't like this. I know my daughter.
I go through the house for probably the hundredth time today, wanting to be sure everything is in place. Sheila called me a few minutes ago saying they're close by.
Since it's almost evening, I've taken the liberty to prepare dinner—my daughter’s favorite. Fried rice, chicken, beans, and chocolate cake for dessert. I couldn't make the cake, so I ordered it. Sheila's the one who knows how to make the best cake for her.
Ascertaining one more time that everything is in place and mentally chastising myself to get my shit together, I leave the house and go stand on the porch to wait for them.
I don't have to wait for long.
Sheila's old Mustang shows at the beginning of the street, and it announces their presence with the loud sound that always accompanies it. That car is one thing I know she loves more than anything else. She got it from her father as her eighteenth birthday present, and she's never used another car since.
Never repainted it.
The paint is not chipping because of how carefully she treats it, but it could certainly use some repainting.
As she cruises down the street, I rush down the porch to the front of the house. By the time the car stops, there's so much screaming and squealing, and it's coming only from the front of my house. It's a quiet neighborhood, and I know I'm drawing attention to myself, but I honestly don't care right now.
“Mummy!” My twelve-year-old daughter rushes toward me with her hands stretched out. I receive her with open arms, squeezing her to me like a lifeline.
“I've missed you,” she says excitedly.
Not as much as I've missed her.
“I know, honey. It's so good to see you,” I respond, kissing her all over. She's giggling and it makes my heart swell with joy.
She's my best gift yet, so innocent and lively. I just hope she'll be understanding of our new situation.
“Can an old woman get some love around here, too?” my aunt says as she walks toward us. I laugh, and Olivia releases me so I can hug my aunt.
She attempts to twirl me when I'm in her hold but the only thing she manages to get out is a groan of displeasure, and we laugh at her.
“Damn. It was just yesterday when I used to carry you on my shoulder, and now I can't even lift you,” she grumbles.
Chuckling, I kiss her cheek. “It's good to see you too, Sheila,” I say in a teasing tone.
She huffs and waves off. “Let's go see this new house of yours before one of your neighbors reports a noise disturbance.”
She's probably right.
I follow her, my hand around Olivia who's clinging onto me.
Damn, she's missed me that much?
We haven't seen each other since last summer. She did come to visit during her last holiday break, but I was in the middle of a new project, so I just asked that Sheila take her in. We never once got to see each other before she left. Thinking about that makes me feel terrible.
I'm going to do better with her in the future.
I take them both inside and give them a tour of the house. Neither of them say a word throughout the tour, and I have no choice but to ask them what they think when we finally make it back into the living room.
“It's a beautiful space. The neighborhood looks beautiful, too,” my aunt says with a smile, but I can tell she's still not totally on board with this.
I turn to face Olivia. She has a neutral look on her face.
“It's a good one, I guess. I don't know why we need a new house, though. We have yours and Auntie's in Glazer Ville. Why do we need this one, especially when it's so far away? It's cool for vacation though,” she finishes with a nonchalant shrug.
My aunt gives me a look when Olivia is done talking. I more than anything want to delay this talk, but it's inevitable and it's probably best to have it now that Auntie's still here to help reason with her.
She tends to listen to her more, and she's leaving tomorrow at noon.
“Olivia, honey, why don't we all sit down?” I say and she instantly has her brow raised. Her suspicion is aroused.
“What's going on?” she asks.
Sighing, I bite on my lower lip in worry. Maybe I can delay telling her?
“Mom. Just tell me what's going on. Are you and Auntie relocating here?”
“Let's sit down first,” I say again.
“No. Tell me right now.”
There's that ugly stubbornness she inherited from her father. It scares me so much when I see his traits in her. I don't want her to be anything like him, and I know she won't. Especially now that I'm going to be raising her myself. If it's the last thing I do, I'll make sure both my children turn out right.
“Go sit right this minute, Olivia,” I demand, refusing to bend to her will.
She remains standing, her face set in a determined expression. I'm not about to back down either. And then she sighs and bites her lower lip, the only thing she takes from me apart from her eyes, and I crumble. So does she.
“Just tell me. Please.”
Fine.
“I left Glazer Ville.”
“Okay? So, Auntie's living here too then?”
“No.”
She frowns. “What? How will I be able to see her then when I come home for break if you're staying so far from each other?”
“I can always visit,” my aunt interjects, giving me a look. She doesn't want me to rip the band-aid off.
Too late. The conversation has already started, and it's not ending until everything that needs to be said is out.
“There won't be any coming for breaks, Olivia.”
“What? So, I'll never come home? How could you do this to me? I know you don't want me around, but permanently not letting me see you? That's cruel, even for you Mom.”
Okay. I expected her to be disappointed, but not to point fingers at me.
“Calm down Olivia, and that's not what I meant. You won't be needing to come home for break because you won’t be leaving. This is our new home. You and me.”
“Oh, hell no! No!”
“Mind your language,” Sheila and I say at the same time.
She looks at us with irritation. “My language is the least of the problems here. Auntie, please tell my mom that I can't stay with her!”
I don't understand.
“Why?” I ask her in confusion. Just a few minutes ago, she was happy to see me. She said she missed me. Why wouldn't she want to stay with me then?
She chuckles at my question, looking at me like I'm crazy for asking.
“You're serious?” she asks.
“Goddamn it, I am. Spit it out.”
“Sarah.” It's my turn to be cautioned about my language by my aunt.
“Not now,” I huff
“And that's why I can't stay with you,” Olivia snarls, pointing accusing fingers at me.
“What?”
“Don't what me! You're a hypocrite, Mom. You always have been. And the only person you care about is you. You've done your best to show me how much you didn't want me all these years, and I wasn't even staying in the same house with you. Now you want to rip away the only life I've managed to have where I'm wanted by forcing me to come live with you in this valley? No. I will not stay with you!”
I don't know what hurts more. That she calls me a hypocrite, or she thinks I don't want her.
She is my precious gift.
“Olivia,” I call her name.
“Don't.”
“Let your mother speak,” Auntie snaps at her, and I watch her face fold. I don't think I've ever seen my aunt chastise Olivia like this before. She looks at me, her eyes shining with tears, hurt lurking behind those orbs.
“I haven’t even started staying with you and you're already turning Auntie to your side.”
Okay, enough.
“There's no side, Olivia. There's only us. All of us, a family. Why would you think I don't want you?”
“Because you never have any time? If you're not busy writing, you're thinking of what to write!”
She does have a point.
I sigh in regret and move close to her with my hands stretched, urging her with my eyes to take them. She doesn't. I let them fall and step back.
“Believe it or not, I'm doing this for you. Everything I have done from the time I found out I was pregnant with you to this point has been done to protect you, and if you'll just let me, I can show you how much I care about you. You just have to trust me.”
“I am not agreeing to stay in this big house with you if you're going to be spending all your time writing and ignoring me.”
“That's not going to happen.”
“Yeah well, I don't believe you. You've told me you'll take me to my father many times in the past, and you've never come through on your word, and we both know you never will. That, I can live with. But I cannot live with you. I will not.”
She walks away, and I watch her until she enters the room I told her is hers during the tour.
How am I supposed to change her mind after that kind of declaration?
Looking at my aunt, I find her with a solemn look on her face.
“What am I going to do Auntie?” I ask her, my eyes filled with tears now that Olivia is no longer in the room. I'd been doing my best to hold the tears in since she first said she wouldn't stay with me.
“Come, let's take a seat,” she says gently, putting her palm on my back and guiding me to the sofa.
I follow her direction and let her help me sit. When we're both seated, I turn to face her, and she sighs.
“Just give her time, she'll come around,” she whispers, but I know she doesn't believe it even as she says it.
That girl doesn't sound like she's going to be coming around anytime soon. What am I going to do?
Send her away with Sheila and risk someone finding out about her, and Kyle too, eventually?
No.
I'd rather die than have that monster know about my daughter.
In the past, I lied to her that I would take her to him. But that was only because she was constantly asking about him, and I needed to make her stop asking.
Am I proud that I lied to her? No. But it was what had to be done. If I'd told her she'd never get to meet her father, it would shatter her. But she came around to the truth on that, and if she can forgive that, can forgive me too?
Her words come back to me.
“That, I can live with. But I cannot live with you. I will not.”
Fresh tears starts to spill from my eyes.
“Sarah, come on. Stop crying, I told you she'll come around. It's normal for her to react the way she did. Any child would be devastated to find out they have to give up the life they know for another one. But like you said, you're doing this for her, and she'll come around to that eventually.”
Any child would be devastated alright. But she isn't devastated that she has to move. She's devastated because she doesn't want to stay with me.
How am I going to share the news of my pregnancy with her at this point?
I guess I'll just have to prove to her that she's important to me and that I love her. It will take time, but I will do it.
Cleaning my face, I force a smile. “I'm thinking of turning in early. Can you help me make sure she eats?”
“Certainly.”
I smile at her in gratitude and lift myself up from the couch. I walk into my room and head straight for the bed, hoping that sleep will take me soon.
Twenty minutes later, I'm still lying face down on the bed with my eyes open.
Damn it.
My mind starts to wander. First to what my daughter said, and then my aunt.
Am I a good mother?
You may not be the best mother in the world, but you're a good one.
I smile at my inner subconscious. Finding out that I'm not a good mother would kill me. I've put that girl above me all her life, but I guess not in the way that she thinks counts.
Sighing, I let my thoughts drift from her to Ian.
I wonder if he misses me. My aunt told me he came looking for me, and I pretended as though I didn't hear, when in reality, my heart was aching that I did to him the same thing I used to resent him for doing to me.
The case is different with me though. I'm protecting my daughter here. And my unborn child. A baby he was clear about not wanting. If his stance was different then, he'd certainly know where I am right now.
The scene of the last time he took me on my aunt's porch comes to my mind, and it makes me suddenly feel hot.
Sitting upright, I let my hand go between my legs. Maybe I'll be exhausted, and it'll make me sleep faster.
As I stimulate my clit, I let my mind envision his face. His beautiful eyes, and his perfect lips. The sound they make when he's inside me and the filthy words that leave them when he wants me naked.
Fuck.
My breathing soon becomes labored, and my action rushed.
I take my hand away from my clit and insert two fingers inside myself, imagining that it's his dick.
“Ha.” The moan leaves my mouth voluntarily, so I quickly take my free palm to cover my mouth.
As I fuck myself with my fingers, all I can think of is his dick being the one inside me. His big body high over mine as he pounds inside of me.
“Kiss me, please.” I whisper.
I imagine that he does as I ask, gently peeling my hand and ravishing my lips until all I can do is gasp for breath.
Then he continues to fuck me, his eyes glued to mine.
“Come for me,” he whispers.
And I try to come, but it just won't happen. I am at the edge, and I can feel my relief, but I can't touch it.
“I can't.” I choke out.
“Yes, you can. Clench that sweet pussy of yours around those pretty fingers, let your thumb graze your clit for a few seconds, and let me watch you reach the peak.”
It isn’t until I am done shaking from my orgasm that I remember where I am.
Damn. He wasn't even here, yet it feels so real. How do I ever forget a man who makes me feel this good even when he's not near?
I wait for my breathing to even out before I get off the bed and enter the shower. I take a quick one. I'm not really dirty, but I'm hoping the cool water will make me feel sleepy. It doesn't.
When all attempts to sleep fail me, I decide to write. I've been on this story for a while now, and since I've not had the time to write Ian's character out, I may as well leave him there and craft a happy ending from our current situation for us.
Many readers may not like it, but I'm sure it'll fly with at least some of them. Our relationship might not have ended like many others, but I'm pregnant with his child. I get to have a part of both of us forever, and that for me is as good as any happy ending.
I bring out my laptop and start to write, focusing on straightening the story out and then giving it an ending without exposing either of our identities.
About an hour later, a loud scream pierces through the air, and I immediately recognize the owner of the scream as my daughter.
I'm on my feet and out of my room in the next breath.
“Somebody help me!” Her loud scream comes again.
I almost run into Sheila as I run to her room, and we both go to open the door, but it's locked. Exchanging a look, we decide not to waste another minute on looking for the key.
Throwing our bodies at the door a couple of times, it comes crashing down, and we enter the room to find Peter rushing out through the window.
That motherfucker! Was he just trying to kidnap my daughter?
“Mommy!” My daughter rushes toward me and I hug her.
“It's gonna be okay,” I assure her as she shivers in my arms.
“I'm calling the cops,” my aunt declares.
“No!” I immediately stop her. “We can't go to the cops with this. It will only make things worse.”
“Then who do we go to?”
Ian.