Chapter 42
Genevieve
Waking up before Ector as the sun rose once again, it felt safe to breathe out. He was here. It wasn’t a dream. He had come back to me and he was sleeping peacefully right by my side. His manly scent was surrounding him and it didn’t take long before I felt like I was finally home. I was safe.
Underneath that joy that was spreading through me with ease now that Ector was back, I couldn’t ignore the feeling of betrayal. Esme had been around us all this time.
She had let us believe that she was dead. My life had felt hopeless. I had blamed myself for almost a year, I had been telling myself that it was all my fault. I wasn’t good enough to save her, that’s why she was gone.
The reminder came every single day, letting me know how I had failed as a big sister. As the oldest, you needed to protect. But even that was something I couldn’t do.
How could she have left without saying a thing? Taking farewell? How could she have left us in misery? What was so important that you had to fake your own death?
Something I hadn’t let myself feel before was now growing in me, and it was anger, rage.
The questions left in me held no answers. Why? I hated it. It was the why’s that would drive me insane, because there was no answer to it unless Darcelle or Esme herself could answer it.
I didn’t want to hate her. There must be a good reason she did something like this, right? She wouldn’t want to hurt the people who loved her with all their heart?
Something must’ve happened to her that she didn’t let me know about, something that was too awful to voice out loud. But that thought only made me worry even more than I had before. Because what if something awful actually had happened to her and she kept it all to herself?
Suddenly, my heart pounded faster and my body could fall apart any second.
She was my baby. I didn’t want her to go through things all on her own.
And the thought of her choosing to sacrifice everything she knew and leave it all behind rather than speaking her truths.
.. It haunted me. And it would continue doing so until I got the answers that I needed. And I needed them to come from her.
How was I going to explain this to my mother?
What was I going to say? I didn’t even know if I would be capable of looking into her sweet eyes and telling her the truth.
Because... I didn’t even know what was worse.
The truth as we thought of it, that Esme had passed.
Or the real truth, that her second born daughter had faked it all.
I truly didn’t know what would be the worst hearing as a mother. I didn’t want to rip up a wound that she had tried healing for almost a year. But I knew, and deep down she knew too, that the death of your child is nothing that could ever heal.
Would Esme being alive bring new hope to her heart or would it rip it open and leave her at the bottom once more? Because that was something I never wanted to witness again.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” The nickname he gave me the first time we met brought me out of my head in an instant, my head snapping in his direction.
“Good morning.” I said, but my smile was weak. I was sure it held more sadness than joy.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Why?” He sat up, immediately wrapping his arm around me.
“I feel like a terrible person. What if it’s my fault that Esme wanted to leave? What if I’m the worst oldest sister to have ever existed?” I felt like a fool speaking those words, because deep inside, I knew that none of them were true.
“I’m sure there is a good explanation to why she chose this path. But never ever blame yourself for it.” He reassured me, and it made me feel warm.
“I want to go home to my mom.” Tears were prickling in the corner of my eyes.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
—
As we arrived home, two days and nights had passed. And I could no longer wait to be held by her.
Knocking on the wooden door, only a few seconds passed before it swinged open. And there she stood, shock all over her face as she couldn’t believe that I was finally back. But there was something else lingering behind it too, but I didn’t understand what it was.
“Oh, Genevieve. Where have you been?” Tears were running down her cheeks in an instant and it was hard forcing myself to not feel bad, even though that was exactly how I felt.
“Hi.” My tone was gentle.
“Never leave like that again. Never.” She dragged me in for another hug.
But just as I was about to tell her everything, her focus abruptly shifted to Ector.
“Why do I recognize you?”
It was easy to see the confusion and nervousness spreading on Ector’s face. His hand was scratching the back of his head and he could barely look her in the eyes.
“Look at me.” She ordered, and he did as she said.
For a few moments, she was quiet, until she spoke again. “I know you. Your name is Ector. Son of Ivelle.”
I looked at him in confusion as he looked at my mother.
“What?” We spoke at the same time, identical facial expressions plastered on both of our faces.
“I think we have a lot to talk about, come in.”
And so, we followed her inside. We sat down around the light wooden kitchen table and mom placed cups filled with tea before us. Then, she let us know all about the friendship with Ivelle, Ector’s mother.