Chapter 15
Rachel
When my phone rings and I see Océane’s name on the screen, I know something’s deeply wrong.
She never calls.
By any other means, it should have been a perfect Saturday.
A romantic walk through the indoor section of Montréal’s botanical gardens, hot chocolate at our favourite cafe, and nothing urgent on our to-do list. We were headed back to our apartment to prepare ourselves a nice home-cooked meal, Karan holding my hand, as if we were a brand new couple.
I stop in the middle of the busy downtown sidewalk and pick up. “Océane?”
On the other end are the heart-wrenching sounds of my sister’s sobs.
“Océane, hey. I’m here.” I step aside with Karan, who cradles my shoulders as if to protect me, but he can’t protect me from this. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Rachel, I’m scared,” my sister manages to say through her sobs.
My blood goes ice cold. “Okay. Tell me what happened.”
“Mom freaked out. I brought a failed essay home because I had to get it signed, and she and Dad, you know how they are, they started arguing with me over it, but it got worse, way worse, because I was sick of it this time, and I…I…oh my God, I—”
“Breathe.” I calmly help Océane through a few breaths, though I’m boiling on the inside.
“They were screaming so loud, and so I wanted to head to my room, and then Mom threw a soda can at my head, but I didn’t know what it was at first, all I know is that it surprised me and I slipped down the stairs, and now everything hurts, Rachel…”
Fuck.
My hands tremble against my phone. Although Karan still holds onto me, it’s like he’s on an entirely different planet. I float inches away from my own body, but I have to focus, I have to fucking focus—
“Okay, Océane? Listen to me.” I peer up at Karan, my steady rock. “Stay in your room. Pack your stuff, only what you really need. We’re going to come get you.”
“What? Ho—”
“Don’t worry about it. Just… hold on, okay? Karan and I are on our way.”
A day later, my sister is safely tucked away in Karan and my’s bedroom, sleeping away the pain while I try to forget the screaming match I had with my parents as I took my sister away.
Try to forget the hateful things they said. The hateful things I said.
Karan came up with the idea to give Océane our room until we find a better solution. With her recent diagnosis of fibromyalgia, I don’t dare make her sleep on our creaky futon.
So when Karan’s parents arrive all the way from Val-d’Or with a trailer hitched to their car and a spare bed and mattress that we can place near the futon just for her, the facade I’ve been working hard to keep up for the sake of my sister crumbles.
Martine is the first through our apartment door. I run to her, and, without hesitation, she takes me in her arms as I let my tears pour out.
A vicious blend of guilt, horror, anger, and heartbreak spills out of every inch of me. It took me too long to get Océane out of that house. Away from them.
I was too focused on my own little life, on moving up the ladder at the pharmacy, on my relationship with Karan, to truly face the fact that my own parents could hurt my sister like this.
Now, they’re gone.
Out of our lives.
Out of my life.
I made it clear when I walked out that they would never see us again.
Océane is alive. Her sprained wrist will heal.
And we no longer have parents.
I’m on my own.
Martine strokes my hair with a soft touch, holding me through the sobs that rack my body.
“It’s okay,” she whispers to me. “I’m here for you always, you know that, right?”
Oh. That’s right. I’m not quite on my own.
In that moment, I love Martine so much it hurts.
I grip her tighter, and I try to form the words that I want to say to her, to thank her for showing up, but at that very moment, there’s simply too much to feel all at once.
But she doesn’t let me go.
Karan
September 2019
If I didn’t know Océane was moving out of our place a month from now, I’d be worried about Rachel.
For the past week or so, she hasn’t been… quite herself. I can understand her worries. Will came through and found a room for Océane that he’s willing to pay for. The roommate who was looking to fill the room seems nice enough.
Still, it must be nerve-wracking to let her sister go.
Luckily, I’ve been keeping a surprise from her, and this might be the perfect thing to cheer her up. I know how much she’s been encouraging me to keep working on game concepts outside work, and how it makes her smile to see me deeply lost in my passion.
So now that I’ve got a minimum viable product to show her, I have no doubt she’ll be excited.
Sitting at the tiny desk near Océane’s bed, I open the folder containing the executable file I’ve compiled, and wait. I rotate the chair to peer around; Océane is sitting on her bed, a book in hand. The door to the bathroom is closed. That’s where my wife must be.
When Rachel comes out, she seems to be in a much better mood. A hint of that beautiful smile that I love appears on her lush pink lips.
“Hey,” I call out to her, immediately grabbing her attention. “There’s something I need to show you.”
“Oh.” Her smile deepens. “Okay, awesome. Then there’s something I need to show you, too.”
It’s a good day for surprises, or what?
Rachel comes to stand next to me, and I double click the executable file. I’m so giddy that my hands start to shake.
“I’ve finally got something, honey.”
“Can I look, too?” Océane asks, her eyes bright.
“Of course.” I shift my chair slightly to give both Rachel and Océane enough room to see what I’m doing, grabbing my controller as the file loads and opens.
The next five minutes are pure joy. I play through the core game loop of my concept, which is part farm sim, part space exploration and survival, then hand the controller over to Rachel and Océane for them to try it out.
Their exclamations of surprise and fun mean everything to me. It’s one thing to make a game mechanic work, but it’s quite another to make it fun. You only get to find out if it’s fun when someone else plays it and tells you.
“Karan, this is awesome,” Rachel says. She leans over for a quick kiss, her eyes crinkled with happiness.
“I’m glad you think so,” I start. “Because that’s not all I wanted to show you.”
I close the game, then pull out a few text documents. On the surface, these seem much more boring compared to the prototype, but they could change everything.
“I’ve already filled out all the paperwork, Rachel.
I think it’s finally time for me to do it.
You’re doing so well at the pharmacy, and I’ve got two strong projects under my belt at Ubisoft, and the down payment for the place we’ve been looking at is something we can afford even if I’m only making minimum wage for a year or so, and so… ”
I trail off when I turn only to be confronted by Rachel’s crumpled face.
The image of her with humid eyes and a trembling bottom lip is not the reaction I had in mind at all.
“What’s wrong?” I stand and cradle her cheek.
Océane moves away, sensing we’re going to need space.
“I was going to tell you right after this,” Rachel says, her voice sounding so small.
“What is it, Rachel?”
“Karan…” She takes in a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”
The world collapses beneath my feet.
I’m… going to be a father?
I always wanted to be a father. And I can feel it, deep in my bones—the unbridled joy that’s about to come out and obliterate everything else in its path. The joy that will make me pick up my wife in my arms and have us dance in our apartment, even with no music.
But in the fraction of a second that comes before that joy, my dream dies.
The world is not what I thought it would be when I first dreamed of becoming a father.
Everything is harder. More expensive. More competitive.
In these conditions, with a child, there’s no way I can quit my job at Ubisoft and take the risk I wanted to take just five seconds ago.
Not if I want to be the provider I need to be.
The provider my father taught me to be.
I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe.
I don’t know if my current job will be enough. Only time will tell, but one thing is certain:
I’ll never start my own indie game studio now.