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The burning question hits me like a freight train and my heart obliterates once more.
“Tied up with work,” I try and give my best upbeat tone as the lies fall from my lips but I am failing.
Miserably.
I was never a good liar, and I haven’t got any better with age.
“Come, let’s get you inside. You must be freezing,” her blue eyes scope over my outfit and I see her brow lift. This wasn’t who they were used to. They were used to me in myLevi’s, plaid shirts and hair in a braid. Yet here I am standing inJimmy Chooheels and a fitted knee length dress. I was too scared to look at myself, my eyes black and puffy from the constant flow of tears, my painted red lips no doubt smudged and messy. I was broken. Falling apart, piece by piece as the seconds past.
I follow my mom, her arm tucked round my shoulders as she leads me to the house, Butch following and I can’t stop my gaze from drifting over to where Riggs was once standing, but he is no longer there.
“Austin, grab her bits from the car,” my mom calls out.
“It’s only my laptop,” I stammer out and nausea swells in my throat. My eyes are cast down to the floor as I try to watch where I walk so I don’t break my flipping neck in these ridiculous heels.
Mom’s grip tightens on me.Don’t let me fall.
Stepping onto the porch, my pops icy gaze skims across to me but I don’t meet his eyes. I am too ashamed.
Buck, my dad, my pops, my daddy, and my mom, Blue, are both in their sixties. Mom is a couple of years younger. Her once dirty blonde hair has streaks of gray running through and it’s as if she has given up trying to cover it. And my dad’s once full head of dark brown hair is now completely gray. Only tufts remain around the sides and a thin layer on the top of his head, apart from his crown which is completely bald. Sucking in a breath, I can’t believe how much they’ve changed in just three years. I love my mom and pops with every fibre. They were honestly the best kind of parents a kid could wish for. Of course, my childhood wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty damn close to perfection.
The warmth of my childhood home smothers me as my mom ushers me through the door, and the smell of apple and cinnamon fills my nostrils. My mom’s apple pie. My stomach groans and I realise how hungry I am. I haven’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday.
“Go get showered, I’ll get some of your old clothes out… I’m sure I have some somewhere from when you were last here.” My mom gives me a small smile and I know that was a little dig. They were allowed to be hurt, but they weren’t allowed to throw it in my face because of my lack of visiting. It was wrong and I already feel awful, I just don’t need my nose rubbed in it at every given moment.
“Okay,” I just about manage and my gaze skates over towards my dad who is sitting at the table reading a newspaper. I will for him to look at me, but he doesn’t.
I kick my heels off and instant relief fills me, the balls of my feet ache, my arch throbbing and all I want is a hot bubble bath.
I hear the front door close, a gust of icy wind blowing through as it does, and I hear the tap of Butch’s claws on the cherry mahogany floor. Looking over my shoulder I smile when I see him.
“Hey buddy,” I crouch and give him a stroke behind the ear, his head tilts and his back leg thumps on the floor as I hit the spot.
Austin glares at me with a million unanswered questions and I know I owe all of them a massive explanation but right now, I haven’t got it in me. I am exhausted. I am broken and I have no idea what to say.
I got dumped.
You were right.
He broke my heart but wants me to pretend we’re okay for his career.
I roll my lips and run my toe across the floor beneath me.
Austin lifts his cap off his head and places it on the coat hook in the hallway before walking towards my dad. My mom is off looking for clothes and Butch goes exploring so I take this moment to slip away and trudge towards my childhood bedroom.
* * *
Stepping from the shower,the steam fills the room. I stand for a moment, towel pulled tight around my chest, my head tipping back as I inhale the warm, wet air that surrounds me. My mind is racing, and I have no idea how to calm it down. How did everything go from being so perfect to so…fucked.
I pad across the large, airy hallway, my wet footsteps marking the carpet as I walk and open the door to my old bedroom. My mom has laid out a pink and beige plaid shirt, a white tee and bootleg jeans. I scrunch my nose up at the outfit and internally cringe. I don’t remember ever wearing this. Fuck, I sound like a spoiled brat. I haven’t always worn designer, and I know deep down that I was a jeans and plaid shirt girl. It just feels like it was a million years ago.
Nostalgia burns through me like wildfire as I look around my childhood bedroom. Everything was exactly how I left it. Light, blossom pink walls wrap round the large, square room. I had the biggest room between me and Austin and he always hated it. I’m surprised he didn’t convince mom and dad to let him move in here and put my stuff in the attic as storage above the old stables. Large sash windows overlook the paddocks with a pretty cream, cushioned window seat which is scattered in pink daisies. The white sheer curtains are tied back with light pink rope and I let out a soft sigh.
Stepping a little further in, I turn to see all of my old medals and rosettes that I won once upon a time hung like the showpieces that they were. I was so proud of myself and so were my parents. I was an avid show jumper until I had a nasty accident and broke my shoulder, collar bone and femur as well as bruising my face pretty badly. The trip down memory lane stirred old feelings deep inside of me, my chest ached, my stomach was tied in a thousand tiny knots and suddenly it all felt painfully raw.
After my accident, I couldn’t get back on a horse, the fear crippled me. I tried, I really did but I just couldn’t do it. Reluctantly, I gave in and retired my beautiful Palomino, Blossom and she spent the rest of her days being a companion horse. I sobbed all day, watching her live her days out in the paddocks. It broke my heart but I had to do what was right for me at the time. The familiar burn rises up my throat and I feel the pressure heavy in my chest and suddenly I am thrown back to that day. A sniffle escapes on my shudder of breath and I honestly don’t even think I have any tears left to cry.
My eyes skim across to the photos and I pick one up from the side unit, a small smile lifting the corner of my lips, my eyes glassy and glistening as I gaze with intent at her. She was a beauty. A perfect white stripe down to her nose, her blonde mane and tail glossy and long. In certain lights you could see the dapple spots under her cream coat. I missed her. Truly. And part of me wishes I could go back in time and overcome my fear. But everything happens for a reason. Maybe I was never meant to get on the back of a horse. Maybe I was meant to run out of town and leave a crumpled mess behind me and just maybe, I was meant to return all these years later.
