34. Lara
There”s something attached to one of my fingers, and there”s a strange sound of an endless beeping filling the air. I first realize I”m sore, followed by how dry my mouth is. And my brain is going to split.
From how hard my head pounds, you”d think I”ve been kicked by a?—
Then I remember what happened.
Getting thrown off Coco after losing control and everything going dark.
Shit.
My throat feels like I”ve swallowed a mouthful of sand and broken glass.
How long have I been out?
My eyes snap open, and I”m greeted with a flat white ceiling. The beeping gets faster. I glance around.
I”m in the hospital.
Argh.
Now I know why my head is hurting because as I touch it, I”m met with a large bump. Slowly, I sit up, trying not to hurl.
”You”re awake,” a familiar voice greets.
Blinking several times, I glance to my right and almost can”t believe who I see. ”M-mother?”
She”s supposed to be in Paris. What”s she?—
She”s here, sitting in a long, black knit dress with one leg crossed over the other. A tablet rests on her lap, and she holds her tablet pen.
Is… she really here, or am I suffering from a hallucination?
My mom sighs, placing the pen and tablet on the bedside table beside me. I notice the expensive handbag placed next to her.
”Happy now?” She arches a brow. Her voice is clipped and sharp, devoid of warmth—but since Amanda”s death—warmth”s been long gone my way. ”Frightening your parents. Taking five years off my life. And for what? What do you wish to gain? Another funeral?”
My toes curl, and I grip the blankets before bringing them to my chin. ”I–I didn”t mean to.”
”Because you weren”t thinking. And that”s the problem.” She gets up to pace the room. There”s a loud clicking noise with each step she takes in her heels. She”s a stranger. ”You should thank your lucky stars it”s nothing more than a bump on your head. It could”ve been worse. And was it worth it?”
”I-I”m sorry,” I stammer. My eyes water, realizing yet another inconvenience I”ve made to my parents while acting out. ”W-where”s… Dad?”
She pinches the bridge of her nose and genuinely looks worried for once. ”Sleeping for the first time in twenty-four hours. I sent him home.”
”I was unconscious for twenty-four hours?”
To my parents, it was probably the longest day of their lives, especially for my mother, who had to fly for hours without any updates while in the air.
”You were,” Mother affirms with a nod.
The bulge in my throat grows, threatening to suffocate me.
”I had to take the first flight here when your father called me in a panic, telling me you fell off your horse and were being rushed to the hospital.”
”Coco,” I whisper before staring at my mom with wide eyes. ”Wh-where”s Coco?”
God, my horse must hate me now, along with the growing list of people.
Mother clicks her tongue. ”Should be at the auction or slaughter after going wild like that.”
What?
My stomach lurches at her declaration—the shock of what she”s suggesting seeping bone deep. My mom, who usually loves animals and just a few months ago loved being around them, said we should slaughter Coco because of my mistake.
And she might very well do it based on that revolting look on her face.
”She—she didn”t mean to,” I stammer, hoping to appease my mom as I stare at the blankets. The machine”s beeping grows louder, and I can”t look at her. ”It was my fault. I pushed her hard and made her uncomfortable. Please don”t blame Coco.”
Mother stops pacing, the clinking of her heels halting. Even though I”m not looking at her, I sense her eyes burning a hole in my head.
”So you do have the common sense to acknowledge it”s your fault?”
Even though her voice is collected, it would be no different than her yelling at me. I cringe, as I”ve long known everything that”s happened is because of my carelessness.
My recklessness.
”I”m sorry,” I whisper, my shoulders sagging.
For a moment, silence follows except for the beeping and the shuffling of nurses outside the room. My mom sighs before walking beside my bed. She sits and places her hand over mine. Her palm is smooth and alienating.
I get lost in a sea of memories, yearning for the comfort of the past.
I wish this were all a bad dream—something I”ll wake up from.
I want my father”s booming laughter downstairs. The unmistakable aroma of Mother”s roses. My heart aches as I envision Amanda flinging herself on top of me, her giggling ringing in my ears as she shakes me, telling me to wake up and that it”s little sister time. Or pancake time.
I blink away my tears; memories are all I have left.
”You need a change of scenery,” Mother says.
My sudden frown and how I snap to look at her must show how surprised and confused I am. All these thoughts and feelings are running wild through my mind, and I hope it”s more than clear that the suddenness of her statement has thrown me off balance.
”W-what do you mean?” I ask cautiously.
Something in my gut tells me I won”t like it.
”It”s best if you return to Paris with me,” she says, squeezing my hand.
My mouth opens and closes. I would be less shocked if she”d told me to look out the window and find the grass blue.
Moving?
Not just a town or state away… but an entirely new country?
”I”m taking over my father”s business.” Mother”s voice is clear, yet still sounds distant and distorted as if she”s talking to me underwater. ”You can learn a thing or two over there. A change of pace. New scenery.”
My brain processes what she”s saying, but I can”t believe it.
”What”re you t-talking about?” I splutter, my tongue tripping.
”It”s time for you to get a taste of reality,” she says.
My stomach churns, and I might be sick. ”B-but… what about everything here?”
She stares at me, tilting her head with a furrowed brow. ”Like what?”
We stare at each other, neither of us on the same page.
I thought she was kidding, but as I study her expressionless face, I see she”s serious. She doesn”t know the chaos and confusion I feel with the sudden offer to uproot my entire life and go abroad. She doesn”t know or care about what we”ll leave behind.
I can”t understand how she can be so detached.
Doesn”t she see the life we”ve created here?
But as her daughter, I know this is her way of coping. Ever since Amanda”s death, she”s changed as a way of handling the fact that her daughter is dead.
Can”t blame her, but it hurts painfully.
”I mean… what… about Papa?” I timidly ask.
”It”s not as if he can”t visit,” she says with an almost coaxing-like smile.
”Paris, though?” I say skeptically, breaking eye contact to stare at the sheets on my lap. Growing up on a ranch surrounded by acres of land, animals, and nature has instilled in me a deep appreciation for the beauty and simplicity of rural life. I”m not from a huge city.
Paris.
I can”t even imagine how I”d adapt.
The hustle of city life, with its towering buildings and endless crowds, will take a lot of work to adjust to. The city is overwhelming and chaotic. And while I appreciate the city”s excitement and opportunities, my heart will always belong here.
My mother squeezes my hand, almost like she knows what I”m thinking. ”It”s not as if it”s forever if you don”t want it. Think of it as a trip,” she offers. You”ve never been the type to jump to conclusions before trying something. Try it before deciding on anything big, darling.”
Darling?When”s she ever called me that?
Gazing at her, I can”t find it in myself to turn her down because of that spark in her eyes.
I”m torn…
Is this the intervention I need to get away from everything and start new? Even if it”s for a little while?
I take a breath. ”I”ll… I”ll think about it.”
”That”s my girl. Trust me, you”re going to love it there,” she says with a grin. ”Just let me know your answer by tomorrow. I”m leaving the day after. I want to get you on the same flight if possible.”
”Okay,” I squeak.
It”s like she”s already made up my mind on my behalf. But maybe… maybe this is what I need. At least, that”s what I tell myself.
When my stomach growls, she chuckles and gets up from the bed. ”I”ll get you something from the cafeteria, and I”ll check with the doctor and see when you can be discharged. Hopefully, by tonight.” Without another word, she grabs her wallet from her purse.
Never have I thought about leaving the state of Wyoming.
Then again, I never thought I”d go down the path I have.
This may be for the best, though. I won”t be a nuisance to my dad, and I”ll be away from the pitiful looks thrown my way. Our tight-knit community still mourns the loss of what many consider a bright, gifted child.
So maybe my leaving will help everyone heal faster.
The knock on the door disrupts my wandering thoughts, and I turn, half expecting Mother to be back with food and news about the doctor, but to my surprise, it”s the person I least expected after how everything went the last time we saw each other.
”Hey,” Dylan greets, giving me a small smile as he walks in.
”I—hi,” I say clumsily as he strides in. ”It”s… good to see you.”
God, can this get more awkward?
”How”re you feeling?”
I give a half-hearted shrug. ”Eh, as good as someone who fell off a horse and been unconscious for almost twenty-four hours would be feeling. Groggy. Disorientated. And in awful need of a shower.”
I can”t imagine how I look.
”You gave everyone a scare,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
”Yeah, Mother scolded me for that,” I reassure him with a heavy sigh. I look for the remote to control the bed and prop it so I can lean more comfortably. ”I”m surprised anyone found me.”
It”s probably short of a miracle there wasn”t some search-and-rescue called, or I didn”t crack my skull during the fall and die out there in the field.
The latter may”ve been better.
”That was Coco,” Dylan says. ”She galloped back to me, and I knew something was wrong.”
”You found me?” I whisper.
”Yeah.” He nods. ”More like Coco led me to you, so I technically didn”t find you, but?—”
I snort, rolling my eyes playfully. ”You know what I mean.” I chuckle, and then a sense of sadness wells inside me. I can”t help but think of how things used to be.
It”s like we”re living in two different worlds, and I don”t know how to bridge the gap.
I don”t know if I ever can again.
The lump in my throat grows bigger, and I want to cry.
It”s my fault we”re in this situation. I wish I could turn back time and do things differently. But I can”t. I”m left with this overwhelming regret. I glance wildly around the room, then notice a vase full of fresh flowers.
Daisies.
My heart clenches, remembering Amanda.
”Where”d those come from?” I squeak.
”I got them for you earlier.”
Time passes.
”Is this bad timing? Again?” Dylan asks after an ungodly amount of silence.
I tear my eyes from the daisies.
”No.” I fiddle with the ID band to help with my growing nerves. ”Mother just stepped away to get something from the cafeteria and talk to the doctor about when I can be released.”
”Already?” he asks, looking wide-eyed. ”And… your mom”s back in Wyoming?”
”Yeah. I think she came straight from the airport,” I say, pointing to the suitcase beside the doorway.
”She moving back?”
I don”t dare try to persuade myself that there”s a spark of optimism in his eyes.
And there”s no point keeping it a secret. ”I”m thinking of moving to Paris with her. She wants me to go.”
”What?”
”Yeah. She thinks it”s for the best,” I articulate.
”You”re joking?”
I chuckle without humor. ”I”m not.”
”And you”re… going?”
Every fiber in me wants to say no, and my mouth opens to answer him truthfully.
But I have to go—to start healing.
I”ve been a terrible daughter and an overall nuisance to everyone.
I”ve messed up so damn much. And more than anything, I can”t hang around and cause my father trouble. It”s killing me.
And I can”t let Dylan get hurt by my misery, either.
I ball my fists in the bedding. ”I mean… why not?”
”You can”t.”
I furrow my brow.
”You just…” He trails off, running his fingers through his hair. ”You just can”t, okay?”
”Or what? You need me here because you find joy in me throwing my life away?”
Is that what this is? Does he want to see how far I”ll push myself?
Who else in this town is secretly out for me? Wanting my demise?
Suddenly, I can”t breathe.
The beeping gets louder.
Fuck all of this! Everything! Everyone!
Right now, I”m no longer in the state of mind to know what I want.
I”m so tired—so damn tired.
”Can we just talk ab—” he starts.
”Go back to ignoring me, okay?” I cut him off, holding myself tightly. I curl my toes, chuckling as I stare at him. ”I mean—it”s not like you even care or act like I exist lately. Did you honestly think I wouldn”t notice?”
None of that is even close to true. He called. He tried.
I need to hurt him and leave. He needs to forget I ever existed.
I”m not worth it.
”Damn it… will you just listen?” he grits out. ”You know that”s not?—”
”Save it,” I interject and glare at him. ”Don”t get any closer. I mean it, Dylan. I”ll—I”ll scream. I”ll scream my head off, and everyone here will come running.”
God, it hurts so much.
”Come on. You”re acting crazy.”
I let out a low chuckle. ”I am crazy. How can I not be after killing my sister?” I scream at the top of my lungs.
I can”t stand seeing him anymore!
I grab my pillow to throw at him.
”I don”t need your fucking pity. Whatever handout you”re giving, I don”t want it! Get the hell out of my face!”
God, please… don”t leave me.
My heart constricts when he doesn”t fight as the pillow hits his chest before it hits the floor.
The next to be flung is the tablet, empty coffee cup, and everything in between.
Anything I can get my hands on from this bed.
He doesn”t say anything.
I”m surprised a nurse or a doctor has yet to come sprinting to check on the commotion.
”You didn”t kill her,” he begins, and I hate the way tears well in my eyes. ”It was an accident.”
I shake my head before burying my face in the palms of my hands. I need to get out of here. I need to let Dylan go. I”m dying. ”Can you just leave? Get out. I”ve already made up my mind.”
Stop me from making a mistake.
I swallow down those desperate pleas, knowing I deserve nothing good.
Finally, he shuffles toward the door.
”For the record,” Dylan begins, no louder than a whisper. ”You deserve more than you”re giving yourself. It”s sad to think you think otherwise. And Amanda would agree with me. Whatever it is, though… I hope you find your peace.”
Don”t leave me.
I–I?—
Rather than saying what I want, I bite my tongue harder and harder until the taste of metal fills my mouth. I have to free him, my dad, and everyone from me.
I hate me.
I hate me, from the toxicity that comes with my existence.
I have to release them.
In the end, it turns out I”m no princess at all.
I”m a fraud.
By the time I look up, he”s gone.