CHapter 36
Karan
When I ran down the stairs at the sound of my wife’s screams—and at the loud thump of knocking against the walls—I had no idea what to expect.
The very last thing I expected was to overhear my own mother speak to Rachel in this way.
Oh, hell no.
Mom’s reaction is instant. She turns to me swiftly, eyes wild and bewildered. Next to her, Rachel is still crumpled to the ground and shaking, sobs taking over her entire body like waves.
It breaks my heart all over again.
“It’s unacceptable,” I continue.
I don’t yell. I don’t raise my voice to her.
I’m not my father.
But I’m firm, and I stand taller than I ever have. It’s all it takes for her to shrink down.
Jocelyne is at my side almost instantly. “Karan, calm down.”
I almost laugh, but I have a single edge here, and it’s my calm demeanor. So I intend to keep it.
“I’m very calm, Aunt Jo.”
Mom, seemingly recovered from the shock of hearing me defy her, stands tall as well, starting to wildly gesticulate towards my sobbing wife.
My Rachel.
“She’s scaring me,” she whimpers. “Karan, make her calm down; I was only trying to get her to talk things through. She wants to leave with the boys!”
“Then there must have been a reason.”
I walk past my mother and crouch down to Rachel, who’s now rocking back and forth. My heart cracks in my chest as I cradle her in my arms and stand back up.
I don’t know what happened while I was out, but if there’s one mistake I’m not going to commit ever again, it’s to mistrust my wife. If she reacted in this way and was about to take the boys away, it can’t only be to hurt me.
She wouldn’t.
Something happened here.
Mom backs away into my father’s arms. My father, despite him being shorter than me, somehow looks down at me, one arm crossed, the other wrapping around my mother’s back.
Any other day, that look would have made me cower in fear.
But not today.
I’m safe. I have to make Rachel safe. I have to make my sons safe.
“Maybe I should leave,” Mom says with a trembling jaw. “Give you some space. You can’t just leave on New Year’s Eve like this. I’ll go out for a few hours, then come back when her hissy fit is over.”
The blatant disrespect pricks like a thousand thorns in my back, rage spiking in my blood.
Rage and shame.
Rage at the people I’ve obeyed with little question my whole life. Shame that I’m only opening my eyes to the truth now.
“No. You stay here, Mom. You stay right the fuck here, and we’re leaving.”
“Karan,” Dad says, shock cutting through the disappointment in his eyes.
I ignore him and walk past everyone, heading upstairs to find my sons, clutching Rachel tightly to my chest all the while.
She’s gripping the fabric of my shirt, fisting it for it dear life. I don’t care that she walked out barely an hour ago. I don’t care if she seemingly gave up on us.
I haven’t given up on her.
She’s it for me. She always has been.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper to her when I reach the top of the stairs, my words causing her to bury her head deeper into my chest as the sobs continue to rack through her.
I open door after door without discrimination until I find both Cayce and Corey, sitting in almost the same position, but in different rooms. Both have their knees to their noses with their arms wrapped around their legs, eyes red and puffy from obvious tears.
What have they done to us?
I set Rachel down on a bed, not caring whose it is, and stroke her hair. I try to look into her eyes, but though the sobs have slowed down, her gaze is vacant.
“I’m coming right back for you. I’m bringing the boys in the car. Don’t move, okay? It’s going to be okay.”
She doesn’t react to my words, but I trust that she will be all right while I pick up Cayce from this room and head to the room across the hall to get Corey.
With both boys in my arms, I come face to face with Auntie Anjali as I’m headed towards the stairs. Her eyes are big with worry.
“Do you need help?” she asks with a shaky voice.
Love for my auntie floods my veins. She could easily side with her brother and try to keep me from leaving, but she’s choosing not to.
Anjali isn’t the only one helping. As we head down the stairs, Corey in Auntie’s arms, the cabin is in chaos below us. Jocelyne argues with my mother while Suresh and Ajay do the same with my father. Aisha rushes in to join her mother in helping me.
In no time at all, the boys, who are completely lost as to what’s happening, are dressed and ready to head out.
Once at the car, I place a hand on Anjali’s shoulder. “Can you get them strapped in while I go grab all our stuff?”
She simply nods with a bittersweet smile.
“I’ll help you pack,” Aisha adds as she follows me back inside.
As soon as I open the door, Mom rushes me, Jocelyne at her tail. “Come on, now, Karan. We can talk. Please don’t leave like this!”
“Martine, let it go,” Jocelyne sighs behind her.
“Please stay,” Mom repeats anyway.
“I can’t stay,” I tell her with a shake of my head. “This isn’t what Rachel needs right now.”
“What about me?” All the pain in my mother’s voice is a spear right through my heart. “You’re my son. I need you, too.”
I laugh without humour. “For the first time in my whole fucking life, I can actually see. Mom, you might need me, but Rachel’s my wife. Her needs trump yours.”
The words burn like acid coming out of my throat.
I hate saying them. I hate that it’s come to this.
My father takes a step forward, and I recognize a similar flame in his eyes to the one currently burning through me. “You cannot speak to your mother like that.”
Certainty floats through my veins when I step forward to face my father. For the first time in life, I am facing him without fear.
“I’m going to tell you the exact same thing you told me earlier today, Dad.
Nothing is more important to me than my sons.
To that, I’ll add my wife.” My gaze flits between both of my parents.
“Dad, I love you, and I love Mom, but I’m not going to sit here and be a doormat while my wife gets treated like this. ”
“It’s all completely ridiculous!” Mom screams. “She’s the one who attacked me first! What am I supposed to do, then, Karan, huh? Should I be the doormat, then?”
A seedling of doubt flowers in my brain, but I don’t allow it to take root.
Trust Rachel. Trust your wife.
I don’t respond. Instead, I move forward, Aisha at my heels, and we move through the cabin to pick up everything my boys left behind.
Like before, my parents don’t follow us upstairs when I go pack our suitcases with my cousin’s help.
They can’t. The rest of my family has, if not entirely taken my side, at least decided that I should be allowed to leave without conflict.
Them holding my parents back is enough for Aisha and me to finish packing.
Ajay arrives upstairs to help Aisha bring the suitcases down while I go get Rachel. She’s now completely silent. Catatonic. Her body barely responds when I take her into my arms.
The beating of her heart against mine is enough to keep me moving forward.
Before I head through the door for the final time, I turn my head to meet Jocelyne’s gaze.
“I’m really sorry, Aunt Jo.”
“Don’t be,” she whispers, her voice nearly breaking. “Go take care of your family.”
“Karan!” both of my parents cry out as I leave the cabin.
I don’t stop.
Anjali sits in between both of my boys’ car seats, holding each of their hands. When I open the passenger door and gently place Rachel inside, both Cayce and Corey light up with questions.
“Where are we going?”
“What’s going on?”
“Did we do something bad?”
“Daddy, what’s wrong with Mommy?”
“It’s okay, boys,” Anjali coos softly, looking back at me. “Karan. I’m really proud of you.”
I swallow back the lump in my throat and nod at my auntie. No more words need to be exchanged between us.
I turn to face my boys.
“You did nothing wrong. Neither one of you. We…” I fake a smile. “We’re going on a little adventure, just the four of us!”
“What about Grandma and Grandpa?” Corey asks.
“They’ll still be here,” Anjali answers for me. “But don’t worry, we’ll take good care of them. You boys take good care of your mommy, okay?”
With that, Anjali slips out of the car, leaving a final kiss on each of my sons’ foreheads.
The door to the house barges open behind us.
“Karan, please!” Mom cries out from the door in one final plea.
The panic in her voice shakes me to my core.
I’m a terrible son.
I’m walking back on everything I know.
How will I ever earn their love again?
No.
I’ve been a model son. I shouldn’t have to earn anything. And I’m walking forward into the only future that I know I want more than anything…
A future with my wife and sons.