AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ameline
After my text exchange with Cedric, I’m restless. It’s hard to concentrate at work. Not just because of the family drama, but also due to the relentless headache that stubbornly clings to me. No amount of pain medication has erased it completely. It lingers like a stubborn bad habit that can’t be erased with anything.
Earlier, my vision blurred, almost sending me spiraling into unconsciousness like that incident at home I had before finals started. I really should get this checked out by a doctor, yet between finals, essays, my job . . . there just haven’t been enough hours in the day.
When I finally get home, exhaustion weighs on me. I flop straight into bed, hoping for the ache to subside with a little rest. But just as my head hits the pillow the doorbell rings, jolting me upright. Can a girl get just five seconds of rest?
“Ameline, open the door.” The sound of my father’s commanding voice sends a wave of anxiety through me.
Hesitantly, I get up and open the door. There stands Dad, with Helen latched onto his arm, her lips painted a vivid red that seems almost accusatory. As if I did something and they’re here to punish me. My blood freezes at the thought of him knowing that I have a job. What if he asks me to pay him back? Or it could be worse. He could take away the apartment, and I have to commute for the next year and a half I have left of school.
A tense silence fills the space between us.
“Were you sleeping?” His voice is a low growl, dripping with disappointment.
Under his scrutinizing gaze, I feel myself shrinking back into a child, my hard-won independence slipping away.
“Just resting for a few minutes,” I say, struggling to keep any annoyance out of my voice. “I’ve been pulling several all-nighters this past week. Keeping my GPA up takes a lot of hard work.”
I bite my tongue to hold back what I really want to say: “You shouldn’t be here, and take your wife away from me.”
Dad brushes past me into the small studio, Helen tottering after him in spiked heels that click sharply on the floor. “I heard your mother made contact,” he says sharply. “You are not to see or speak with her, do you understand?”
The ultimatum in his tone makes my blood boil. How dare he forbid me to see her? It’s my right. My face heats up, my hands clenching into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. “I’m twenty years old, a junior in college. Old enough to make my own choices, don’t you think?” The words slip out before I can stop them.
Helen gasps, clutching her jacket and glaring at me as if I just committed some kind of crime.
Dad’s eyes flash with anger, his jaw clenching. “The hell you are. I’m your father and no matter how old you are, you do as I say. Need I remind you that she abandoned us? She’s nothing to you. Do I make myself clear?”
Helen places a claw-like hand on Dad’s shoulder, sneering up at me. “I’ve been more of a mother to you, Ameline, than that woman ever was.” Her saccharine tone makes my stomach turn.
“You’ve been with Dad for less than five years,” I counter, my voice rising despite my efforts to remain calm and the killer headache that’s getting worse. “You’re less than a decade older than me. Don’t pretend we’re something we’re not.”
Dad takes another step toward me, rage simmering off him. “Watch yourself. Helen has been more of a mother than her.”
No, she hasn’t, I want to say. Though instead I stay quiet for a couple of beats.
“I just want answers.” I fight the urge to shrink back and lift my chin. “We deserve to understand why she stayed away for so long.” My voice cracks on the last word, so much for being brave and trying to look like an adult.
For a fleeting moment, I see a flicker of something in Dad’s eyes, a hint of vulnerability. But it’s quickly masked by his usual stern façade. “You’re not to go looking for her, do you understand?” His words are sharp and unyielding. “Or you’ll face serious consequences. You could lose everything—your career, this studio, and even my support.”
He whirls around and stalks out, Helen scampering desperately after him. The door slams shut, the boom resounding through the studio.
I sink to the floor as tears blur my vision. My thoughts chase themselves in endless circles. Is this why Mom never reached out before? Dad’s ultimatums? I need to understand. But the most terrifying question of all—what if Dad really does cut me off for talking to her?
My hands tremble as I pull out my phone, dialing my therapist’s number. I need to talk this through with someone who’s removed from this situation but knows me. Someone rational, who can help me weigh the risks and benefits clearly.
* * *
“Hi, Tori, it’s Ameline. I’m sorry for calling, but I really need your advice,” I say into the phone, pacing back and forth in my small living room. The words tumble out, like a rapid stream of confessions and fears about everything since my mom’s unexpected call happened. I tell her about Isadora’s and Cedric’s reactions, Dad’s ultimatum, and Helen’s audacious claim to motherhood.
Tori listens without interruption, letting me talk myself out. When I finally fall silent, she says gently, “I understand how difficult this is, Ameline. Your father has controlled all your decisions for so long. The thought of going against his wishes or losing his approval must be terrifying.”
She nails my feelings. “Yes, but what about my mother? I want to learn about their separation, her absence and why she’s reaching out to us. But I don’t know what to do,” I whisper.
“Let’s examine this rationally,” Tori suggests in her calm, reasonable way. “What do you hope gaining the truth will accomplish? Will dredging up the past really help you move forward?”
I consider the question. It’s not about moving forward, but I’ve learned that your past can explain so much about your present and might help you build a better future. The answer is simple. “Yes, I really need those answers. It’s hard to understand why a mother—who’s supposed to love her children unconditionally—would abandon us just like that. What if I do the same with my children, or . . .” My voice catches as I don’t know what else can be affected by not knowing the truth. “Other children from divorces have visitations, at least a birthday present or a card from the absent parent. Not me. She cut off all communication with us.”
