CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
HER MOTHER’S WORDS RAN on a loop, bashing around in her head and yelling at the top of its lungs. The ache it caused pulsed beneath her eyelids along with her tears.
Their conversation had begun like an old roller coaster stuttering to a start as its passengers clung on with anticipation and sinking stomachs. The climb, slow and arduous at first, had hit a high point with her mother’s last words. Amber feared that when they continued down the tracks, there would be no excitement or wide smiles. Only a wreck left as they plunged below.
“Why would you say that?” Her voice was broken to her own ears.
“Why wouldn’t I? You want the truth, don’t you? Here’s your truth!” Where Amber stood frozen, her mother was hysterical. Her voice pitched higher than Amber had ever heard it. Her hair had left its chignon bun somewhere between their abandoned dinner and now, flying wildly around her red face. Her mom shook as she pointed an accusing finger at Amber.
“How could I love you when you took the love of my life from me? You took my husband. You killed him! You’re asking for love? You never deserved it.”
The words hit her with a thud, spearing her heart. Amber clutched her chest, sure she could feel blood trickling from it.
“I didn’t,” She tried to defend but her words were small. They were blunt and useless against her mom’s anger and unleashed grief. “He was sick. I didn’t kill him.”
She vividly remembered her last memory with her father. How she had grasped onto his frail arm, unaware they were in his last moments. She had only been eleven years old but she loved her father, had hung onto his every word, missed him with every breath.
How could her mother accuse her of the unthinkable?
“He could have lived if it weren’t for you. You always wanted everything done your way. We spoiled you and he paid for it,” her mom continued, her words interlaced with heartbreaking sobs. Her pain leaked through reddened eyes fixed on Amber. “All he needed was rest. The surgery had been scheduled. We had the best doctors lined up. In a matter of days, he would have made it. He would have still been here.”
Her mother clutched her head, her hands sinking into her wild hair. Her shoulders hunched in and for the first time, Amber saw her mother look her age. Her eyes were glazed as though reliving the memories. “I begged him not to go. I did. But you… you cried and begged even more and how could he do anything but give you what your selfish heart desired? He followed you to that cursed recital. ‘It’s my first ever performance, don’t you want to watch me?’ you asked him. All he needed was rest and you wouldn’t even give him such a simple thing.”
No. Amber sobbed along with her mother.
That wasn’t true. An image came to her mind. A memory of her father. Pale, weak, drawn but his smile wide as could be when she climbed off the stage and ran to him. He had struggled to pull her into his lap and the kind nurse who had accompanied him had helped her join him in the wheelchair, then insisted that they leave. Amber had sat cuddled to her father the entire ride as she babbled about the performance and how she had been scared but seeing him there had made her so happy. Her father had tugged her closer, told her she would be a star one day, that he loved her and he was proud of her.
“It was the worst thing getting a phone call that said he was slipping away. My husband wasn’t responding anymore and the machines couldn’t pick up a heartbeat. What do you mean he’s dying? When I left, he was fine. He was smiling and happy that he would get to go home with his family soon. That he could return to doing the things he loved.” Her mother gasped, her hands tearing at the collar of her dress as though she couldn’t breathe. Dottie ran over to her side to keep her standing but she hardly registered it. “The drive back to town was the longest two hours of my life. Sitting in that car with nothing to do but pray, hope, wonder. Only to find you at his bedside, slumbering while he slipped away. You were wearing a costume and I wanted to rip it. I wanted to believe he hadn’t gone when I’d asked him not to.”
Amber remembered the wail that had scared her awake. She had thought it was a hospital alarm until she’d seen her mother fall to her knees, her cries echoing in the room. The nurses had rushed to her side while others took Amber away as they tried everything they could.
It had been too late.
Her father was dead.
Her mother had lost her husband.
Amber’s knees hit the ground. The impact was dull compared to the one in her heart. She had killed her father. He would have been here with them this entire time but instead she hadn’t cared for the one thing he needed to make him live. It was all her fault. She had pushed her mother away, broken her heart, stolen the light from her life with her own hands. She had been the one to break her family.
“I…I didn’t. Mom, please. I didn’t mean to.” The words stuttered out, hindered by the harsh tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to do this to our family.”
She clung to her mom’s hand but she shook Amber away, her eyes brimming with the truth of her hatred.
“You don’t deserve it.” Her mother spat. “You don’t deserve forgiveness. I wanted to punish you for what you stole from me. I wanted you to suffer in the very thing you loved so much that you didn’t care for the risk on his life. You should have been condemned to ballet forever.”
“Mom, please. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t touch me.” Her hands pushed at Amber’s shoulders, separating them even further. Dottie held her mom back but Amber was already sprawled on the floor. “Leave me. I have no daughter.”
Her words rang with a finality that caved Amber’s chest. The final straw that broke her heart. Her mother stormed away, her steps quick and unsteady, as though she couldn’t wait to leave Amber behind.
“Mom, please. Come back. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Arms wrapped around her shoulders as endless pleas fell from her lips. They echoed in the mausoleum they called home, hanging in the empty space her mother had left. This was the pain she had put her mother through. The overwhelming grief she carried all these years. No wonder she had lost her joy to smile, her will to love. Her anger, her sorrow, her pain had been the walls around her and Amber had never noticed. She’d failed her mom again.
It must have killed her mom inside every time she saw Amber in a costume, ready for the stage. Her daughter dressed in the same devil’s apparel she had on the night she had stolen her father’s chance at life. Tears poured from Amber at the thought. No wonder her mom couldn’t love her. How could she love herself?
“It’s okay, dear. It’s going to be okay. Hush now.” Dottie tried to console her despite the sobs breaking her words. Her arms held onto Amber but she pushed away. She didn’t deserve it. Her mom was right. She didn’t deserve love or forgiveness.
It was her fault.
On hands and knees, Amber crawled across the tiles, deaf to Dottie calling out to her. She needed to leave. There was no place for her here. There had never been. She’d shut and locked the door to her mom’s heart the day her dad had passed. The dream she held onto of a happy family was nothing more than a mirage. Foolish and wasted hope.
She had done this.
It was her fault.
Amber didn’t recall leaving the house. One moment she was stumbling to her feet and the next she was out on the pavement. The night enveloped her the further she staggered. An unusual chill whipped through the night, biting at Amber’s exposed skin. Even the weather had turned against her.
She walked for what felt like forever, her eyes unseeing the path before her and bare feet dragging along the road. The houses changed, cars went by and the birds cawed their night call. She was blind and deaf to it until a sharp rock pierced into her skin, nearly tripping her.
Exhausted, Amber blinked and found herself standing before a familiar home. The three-bedroom single-family home was cozy, lit up with warmth from the inside out. She envied that. It was that warmth she’d craved more than anything.
Her thighs burned as she crossed the empty street. Adrenaline gone, Amber began to feel the effects of walking here. The air blew across her face, reminding her of the tear tracks. She must have looked like a mess. Her feet paused on the porch steps. Would they turn her away? Would they hate her and push her out as her mom had? She would likely deserve it if they did. She seemed to cause problems wherever she went. They wouldn’t want a bad omen like her hovering around her family.
She needed to walk away. She needed to leave them alone. Her feet did the opposite. Her hand rose into the air. A mirthless laugh left her at the motions.
Beverly had been right. Her mother too. She was a selfish brat. How many more times did it need to be said before she realized it?
The doorbell went off with a ding.
Footsteps drew closer to the door.
It swung open.
Noah stood there, his hand on the doorknob. His eyes widened as they raked over her, from her hair to face to her shoeless feet. A tear escaped her eye.
He took a shaky step towards her. “Amber?”
Her knees buckled and she fell, collapsing into his arms and a darker pit below where what waited was guilt, grief and her broken dreams.