AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Cynthia nods, her eyes brightening slightly when she says, “Mia, please come inside. And your friend too.” She seems surprised to see Quinn, like she only just realized he was here.
“I’m Quinn,” he says, extending his hand, which Cynthia lightly shakes.
“Nice to meet you. Are you Mia’s boyfriend?”
On that note, I pull Quinn by the hand and push past Polly. I am so not ready to have that daughterly talk with my mother just yet.
Now that rage isn’t clouding my vision, I can see this home is pretty. All sorts of artwork adorn the walls, and I can’t help the sick feeling gurgling in my stomach as I wonder if my mother still paints.
It’s one of the only memories I have of her.
I remember how excited she was to have her artwork chosen and displayed in a gallery downtown. It was her dream come true. But sadly, that dream wasn’t enough to make her stay. And that thought has me grinding my teeth as I enter some glamorous living area off to the right.
This room is bigger than the other room I was in last time, and again, it’s beautiful and tasteful. And I hate it.
I hate that I think it’s pretty.
I hate that I’m not slashing at the walls and breaking all the crystal figurines in rage.
“Sit, please,” Cynthia says, pointing at a black leather sofa.
I don’t resist and quickly sit, and Quinn sits beside me.
Polly and Cynthia also sit down, and the awkwardness begins.
How do you start off a conversation such as this? No matter how I intend to phrase it, or how many questions I ask, there only seems to be one word that sums it all up.
Why?
No matter what I ask or how she replies, the result will always be why.
“Mia, I’m so sorry for my behavior the other day,” Cynthia says, breaking the silence.
Crossing my boot over my knee, I slouch backward because I feel like I’m about to collapse.
I really think she needs to apologize for a lot more than just the other day. But I give her a small nod, indicating I’m listening.
“I don’t even know where to begin.” Cynthia sniffs, wringing the handkerchief into a knot.
“How about you start by telling me why you left?” I suggest louder than expected. Cynthia jolts, startled by my hostility.
Quinn places a warm hand on my bare knee through a hole in my jeans. He squeezes it lightly, and I know he’s asking me to calm down. If I don’t, I’ll never get the answers I desperately seek.
With that in mind, I sigh, slightly annoyed that I have to be the rational one. “Look, I know this isn’t easy for anyone…” I ignore Polly’s disgruntled “humph” in the background as I continue. “But you owe me the truth. No matter how painful, I want to hear it.”
Cynthia nods, her hair shrouding her face as it slips free from her loose bun. “You’re right. I do owe you the truth. From start to finish, you deserve to know it all.”
My heart races because I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life. How will I handle the truth? Will it shatter me? Or will it empower me to start anew once I know everything?
There’s only one way to find out.
I look at Cynthia, waiting for her to speak, but she doesn’t. She just buries herself further under her veil of hair, sobbing quietly.
I know she needs a moment. I have no doubt these memories are painful for her to relive—but too bad, as I’m not leaving this house without answers.
I look at Quinn, hoping he’ll give me some magical solution to get her to talk, but he only shrugs and toys with his hoop.
Polly is the first to speak. “Mom, are you all right?” Her concern for her mother is evident in her soft tone.
