Chapter 2 #2
My voice breaks. "I-I thought she loved me."
"She does," they say in unison.
I shake my head. No. She doesn't. Because if this is how she shows her love, I don't want it.
"Where are you? Are you at home?" my mom says.
"Yes."
"Good. Come over, okay? Just for a bit. We can sit down, talk things through, figure this all out together."
Something in her tone makes my spine go ramrod straight.
"What do you mean, 'figure this all out together'? Who's we?"
"Your father, me… Aubrey. James."
The room spins so fast I have to grab onto the back of the couch to steady myself.
"No," I say sharply. "I'm not doing that. I'm not going to sit at your kitchen table and talk it out with the people who destroyed my life, Mom!"
"Sienna," she starts, her voice gentle, placating. "Come on, honey. I know you're upset but—"
"There's nothing to talk about!" I snap. "I saw them. This isn't some misunderstanding. They were fucking in my bed!"
"We know," my father says with a strained sigh. "We know what they did was wrong but—"
“But nothing! This isn’t fixable, Dad!”
His voice hardens. "Sienna, stop being so stubborn and disrespectful."
I cackle. Of course. Of course it's me. I'm the one being irrational. I'm the one being emotional. I'm the one in the wrong.
Not.
This.
Time.
"I'm not being stubborn or disrespectful. I'm standing up for myself." I jab my trembling finger into my chest. "For once in my life, I'm putting my own wellbeing first."
"Watch your mouth, Sienna!" my mother bites out, her tone harsh and cold. "We have done everything for you, given everything for you."
The words slip out of me, bitter and raw. "Really? Because it sounds like you're choosing her. Even after this. You're still choosing her, just like you've always done."
"No one's choosing anyone—"
"Stop. Just… stop." I can't take it, not the lies or the betrayal. I have no more hope for them… for anyone. "This was the one time," I whisper. "The one time I needed you to be there for me… and you still can't do it."
“That’s not true, Sienna,” my father says, but his tone is exasperated, like this is all just a big waste of his time.
"God, you really expect me to believe that?" I toss my hand in the air. "From the moment Aubrey was born, you handed her to me like she was mine to raise. I braided her hair, made her meals, and taught her how to read. I stood up for her, Me. I was always there—"
"Because you're her big sister! That's what big sisters do!" my father says.
"I was a child!" I scream. "I needed you too, but you gave me your other daughter like she was a project and left me alone to fend for myself. You babied her and expected me to just deal with it. And now she fucks my fiancé, and you want me to sit down and have a meal with her?"
"We're not saying forgive her—"
"But you're not punishing her either, are you Mom?" I purse my quivering lips. Tears blur my vision, but I refuse to let them fall. "Tell me why. Why is this so important to you?"
"Sienna, she's pregnant," my mother says, her tone agitated. "This will be our first grandchild. And we're a family. No matter what, we're always a family. She needs us and we're all each other has."
"And what about what I need?" I bite out. "What about supporting me? Or what? Is her baby a do over for you? Is it the precious little gem that's going to pull our family together and make it the picture-perfect image you've always wanted?"
"Sienna—"
I throw my hand up in the air again and roll my eyes.
"Of course! What was I thinking? It doesn't matter how Aubrey did it.
Who she hurt. She's pregnant, and that's all you see.
Not me. Not what I've lost. Not what she stole from me," I say, smacking my chest, as if maybe, if they can hear it, they'll remember I have a heart too.
My father huffs. "We do see you—"
"No, you don't.” Tears roll down my cheeks, but my voice is steady, calm, accepting. “And I finally understand that you never did."
For a while, they say nothing. They don't try to convince me, don't apologize, nothing. And that tells me all I need to know.
My father sighs, long and heavy, as if he’s had enough of this conversation. Because, like always, I’m too much. My feelings, my need to be loved, are too much. “This is bigger than you, Sienna, and one day, when you’re a parent, you’ll understand.”
I shake my head. "I don't need to be a parent to know that what you're doing is wrong.
Aubrey's baby didn't ask for any of this, and that child deserves all the love in the world.
But I'm not going to let Aubrey—or either of you—use her pregnancy as an excuse to not take accountability for her actions. "
"You're being dramatic," my mother says, in a flippant tone.
"No." I draw in a shaky breath. "What I am is done. Done with all of it, and with all of you."
"Sienna—"
"Enjoy your life. With her. With James. With your grandchild. I always thought you wished I'd never been born, well congratulations. Consider me gone."
I hang up before they can respond.
My finger hovers over the block button. I should do it, I would, but going no-contact with my parents isn't that easy.
They know where I work, where I live, my email address. They can contact me whenever they want. Even if they don't go searching for me, I'll still run into them around town. And people will talk loudly.
At first, it'll just be rumors, but then someone will say something, and I'll hear about it for months, and that's from the kind people. Others will just ask me outright or instigate things by asking about the wedding, my sister, my parents, or James.
Right now, they don't think they've done anything wrong, so they'll expect me to reach out first like I always do. It's the same reason they didn't come to check on me. But once they need something? That will be an entirely different story.
If I stay here, I'll never escape this nightmare. I'll never escape them.
But I deserve more than this. Don't I? I deserve more than parents who see me as a burden, a sister who destroys my life without a second thought, a fiancé that never puts me first, and a town that would rather tear me down for their amusement than grant me a single moment of peace.
I deserve to be cared for, considered, wanted. I've never had that here, and if I stay, I never will.
I have to leave. Go somewhere they can't reach me, where no one knows anything about me. Where I can start over.
Drumming my fingers on my phone, it hits me: New York. That's where I've always wanted to go, where I've always felt connected to.
And with nothing keeping me here? It's the perfect place to start over.
It's a crazy risk. And for half a moment, the fear of leaving everything behind begins to choke me. But even that's not strong enough to crush my determination.
I need this. I need to get out.
I can't keep crying, can't keep wishing things would change or that I’ll wake up and this will all be a bad dream, because it's not. I have to move forward. I have to.
My hand trembles, but I nod, take a deep breath, and block them. It's such a small action, yet the weight of it settles in my bones.
I'm all alone now. I don't have anyone left.
Everything feels distant, underwater, as I move room to room gathering my clothes, shoes, whatever will fit in my car. By the time the sun rises, I'm finished.
I do one last walk through, making sure all my drawers are empty and that I've cleaned everything I can. Then, I put in a request for pickup from the Salvation Army for all the furniture and anything else I can't take with me.
I text Aubrey that she and James have until tomorrow to pick up their stuff from the apartment or else it'll be donated, and then I block them, too.
I hover over my boss's name then pause over the phone icon, but then think better of it. If I tell him over the phone, he'll just try to berate me, and I've had enough trouble for one day.
I open our messages, type the words "I quit" and tap send. I don't know if he'll be an ass and try to hold my last check or deduct something since I didn't give him a two weeks' notice, but I can't find it in me to care.
Finally, I call my landlord. The sweet older woman is always up at the crack of dawn.
“Hello.”
"Hi, Mary, I'm sorry to call so early," I say.
"Oh? That's alright, dear. What can I do for you?"
"Unfortunately, I have to move out today."
Mary gasps. "What happened?"
I tell her the parts that matter, and she listens. At the end, she agrees to let me out of the lease.
Her kindness shakes me to my core, she's been the nicest person I've spoken to in the last twenty-four hours.
"Thank you." I say with a shaky breath. "I left a check on the counter for an extra month. To cover the inconvenience."
"No, no. Keep your money. It sounds like you've got some really big moves to make, and you're going to need every bit of money you've got to get you there."
"I…" I want to tell her not to worry about it. She's already done more than enough for me, but she's right. I can't say no right now. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
We say our goodbyes, and when I hang up, I stand in the threshold of the apartment.
I remember when I first got this place. We were so scared we wouldn't get it because James's credit was terrible, so all we could use was mine, but we did.
I thought that day was the beginning of a new chapter of our lives, and I never thought the end would get here so soon.
But now?
Now it's time for me to set out on my own, to start over somewhere else. Be someone else. Someone I can be proud of, someone I love wholeheartedly.
I close the door, and the lock slides into place with finality. Then I get in my car, toss my ring into the cup holder, roll down all the windows, and drive.
Nothing may have worked out the way I wanted it too, but that can't last forever. And even though I don't have a plan and I can barely breathe from the terror coursing through my veins, one way or another, I'm going to make this work. Because for the first time in my life—I'm choosing me.