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I’m going after her.
Not because she’s mine but because I’m hers.
Because she knew that even before I knew it myself.
After she’s gone, I lunge for those papers that she let go in the slight wind. I pick them up from the street, wrinkled and almost torn, and fold them up, reverently, before pocketing them.
I’ve always known, right from the moment I saw her, that she’s beautiful. She’s magnificent with her rounded cheeks, soft chin and those soulful blue eyes. She’s soft in a way that I’ve always craved even when I crushed it with my actions.
But she’s never looked more beautiful than she did then, with sun sparkling down on her blue, wavy hair, reading her letter out loud to me.
She’s never looked braver, sweeter, more vulnerable and more like the girl I don’t deserve.
But I can’t leave her alone.
I won’t let her go out in the world, thinking she’s alone. That no one knows who she is or what her name is.
Her name is Blue and she’s the girl I love. Ever since I was twelve.
I rush back to the mansion, pack up my clothes. I bring her blue sandals from long ago, still caked with her dried blood, and her nightie.
I bound down the stairs and run to the servant’s wing. I find Nora in the staff room with probably every staff member there is at The Pleiades.
But that doesn’t deter me from barging in and declaring, “I’m leaving but I want you to call me if Mom’s condition gets worse, all right?”
I guess I’ve surprised everyone with my sudden entrance but I don’t have time for shock. When Nora just watches me with an open mouth, I address the room, generally. “My mom, she has cancer. Ovarian cancer. She doesn’t have a lot of time and, well, I came back because I wanted…” I swallow, words getting thick and clunky in my mouth. “I wanted to be with her in her last days.”
There’s silence.
I’ll take it. I’ll take the wide-eyed silence.
In my head, I always thought that if I told them I’m here for my mother, for the woman who kicked me out and never cared about me enough to even bother with my whereabouts these past years, people would look at me with pity. Especially the staff members who knew how it was for me while growing up.
I thought, to them, I would look weak. It makes me weak.
But for the two days that I was locked up, I’ve been thinking about how Blue loved me. How she told me that she was mine, even after I repeated my mistakes from St. Patrick’s and didn’t save her from Ashley’s childish games. How proud she was while she was on her knees, mopping up the mess.
She’s the strongest person I know and she forgave me my crimes a long time ago. She gave me her trust, her body, her love.
So maybe forgiving your bully doesn’t make you weak.
Maybe it makes you brave. It gets you a little closer to being invincible.
Nora springs up from her chair and asks, “Where are you going?”
“I’m going after her.”
She’s still confused but I don’t have time to explain. I turn to Maggie. “Where did she go?”
Maggie gives me a stern look from where she’s sitting at the middle of the table. “Leave her alone. She’s been through enough.”
“Just tell me where she went.”
“Why? So you can hurt her some more? She’s been crying for three days now. I thought she’d pop her eyes out.”
I rub a spot on my chest.
You felt a spark, probably in your chest.
