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“Oh, I understand,” Julia snapped. “You don’t believe me and you want me to protect your lover so he won’t be deported. No. Icompletelyget it. I just hope that you understand you’re defending a disgusting man and throwing aside your own family.”
“Julia, please,” Birgitta sighed.
“No!” Julia shouted with such force that her arms were forced down to her sides, her fists clenched as she screamed. “Get out of my apartment right now or I swear to you that I will call the police right now and tell them everything!”
Birgitta didn’t want to leave her daughter when she was in such a state but knew she had to go to protect Malik. She got up from the couch and immediately heard Julia scoff.
“So eager to protect him,” Julia snapped. “You don’t care about me at all. You never have.”
Birgitta paused in front of the door, her hand resting on the handle. “I love you,” she said. “I always will. I just need to do this . . . for me.”
Julia shook her head, averting her eyes to the floor. “As long as he’s in your life, I won’t be. I hope you know that.”
Birgitta wasn’t sure what to say—she wasn’t sure she could say anything to make the situation better. The one thing she did need to do, however, was to leave. If she didn’t do exactly what Julia wanted, she would file that report and Malik would be lost to her forever.
She opened the door and stepped into the hallway, listening to the sounds of her boots against the wood flooring. Sheepishly, she glanced up at her daughter. Tears were in her eyes, already red from fighting it. She was trying to stay strong, trying to look fierce in front of her mother.
Birgitta suppressed every motherly instinct that she had, and closed the door behind her.
Chapter fifteen
I'll make you feel better
Onthewayhome,Brigitta stifled her tears to call in sick to work. As usual, they didn’t care. They had more than enough agents to pick up the slack. There was no way she’d have been able to go to work, not like this.
Thick, black streaks of mascara dripped in thick rivulets down her cheeks, turning gooey and clinging to her skin. Her mouth was unable to close as the harsh, harrowing sobs came out of her mouth. She could barely see the road ahead through her tears. It was unsafe for her to drive like this, but there was no way she was going to park on the side of the road to cry.
She had to keep going, keep pushing on through. She had to get home so she could crawl into bed and cry her day away. The road was blurry but it didn’t matter so much now. She could see the dull greenery, the frosted, bare trees, and the bumpy dirt road rolling beneath her car.
Birgitta barely made it into the house. She tossed her keys onto the kitchen counter, hearing them smash against the wood with a metallic clang. Then she kicked off her shoes, letting them scatter over the kitchen floor. She didn’t bother to pick them up as she stormed through the house.
The only thing she could think about was her bed. She imagined the sight of her soft, silky sheets; imagined the way the mattress would feel against her skin, hugging her tightly; the way the air would smell, slightly stale and warm. It was all she wanted.
Birgitta couldn’t understand why she was so upset. How many times had Julia said things like this before? Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands? She’d never been an easy child to raise. There’d always been turbulent moments in their home life, especially when Birgitta tried to get involved in Julia’s life.
They’d had their ups and downs, but this time it felt different. There was a heaviness on Birgitta’s shoulders, a weight that had been added that had never been there before. Something told her Julia was never going to change her mind, not as long as Malik was still around.
Even the thought of choosing between them was too much. Every time she thought about the possibility of losing her daughter or her lover, she could feel her heart splitting apart inside her chest. She could feel every muscle, every fiber, every centimeter of it shredding apart and bleeding out.
Birgitta didn’t care if Malik was home or not. All she needed was to get into bed. She climbed up the stairs, feeling her shaking knees knocking together. It took an agonizing amount of time for her to finally reach the covers. She didn’t even bother taking her clothes off, she just dived right in.
The tears only got worse from there. They fell down her cheeks in bitter waves as she thought about everything that had happened to her in these last few weeks. Not only had she found a purpose for herself, and happiness, but her whole family life had fallen apart because of it.
Just a few short weeks ago, Birgitta had thought that she was content with her life. Maybe not overly happy, but happy enough. Now, looking back, she could see the misery inside of each of those memories. It was like a filter had been lifted, revealing to her just how awful she’d felt for years.
Now that she finally had something making her happy, her daughter had decided to cut all ties. Sure, Malik might have done something unforgivable to Julia . . . but something in Birgitta knew it wasn’t true. Why would Malik betray her like that? They were so close to finally having each other. Surely he wouldn’t throw that all away for a quick, unsatisfying grope?
Birgitta couldn’t control her emotions. They were spiraling out of control along with her thoughts. How the hell was she supposed to make sense of all of this? The pain in her chest only increased as she struggled to breathe through her tears. Everything was a mess. How could she tell what was the right thing to do?
All her life, she’d been able to instinctively know what she wanted to do, what step she should take next. But now it was all ruined, all of it tainted. How had she known what she was doing all these years if it led her to this mess? It seemed like she’d just been muddling through. The same as everyone else. Now she’d gotten stuck.
It felt like her ribs were made of delicate eggshells. Every breath she took felt like they were shattering and splintering into her body, stabbing her lungs. Even her bones hurt, right down to the very marrow.
“What’s wrong?”
Birgitta instantly stopped crying at the sound of Malik’s deep, accented voice. She sniffed deeply, trying to draw all of the moisture back inside her body.
Luckily her back was turned to the door so Malik couldn’t see her face. She tried to sneakily bring her palm up to wipe the watery mascara goop from her eyes, trying to hide her feelings from him.
