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My stomach rolls the closer I get to home. Every time I think about what I’m going to say, I want to vomit. The entire situation would be unbelievable if I hadn’t seen the truth for myself. This isn’t something that happens every day. Not like this anyway. I have no idea how to address what I know with them. They kept something from me, something they can’t take back. I understand why after reading those files, but that doesn’t make it any better. How I was told didn’t help either. It should have been them and not Zach. He did it with harmful intent and he showed no remorse. That isn’t the Zach I know—or thought I knew.
Did I really mess with his head that much that he’s resorted to such cruel behaviour? I like to think I treated him well. We may have started off for the wrong reasons, but in my eyes, we built a real relationship for the right reasons. So much of our past plays on a loop in my head. I think of what Mum said, and what Ben said, and it makes me wonder why I never saw it before. Why did I not see this coming when I can normally pick a prick out of a crowd? How did I not see this side of him when I’ve known him for so long? What he’s done has hurt me more than I care to admit. He doesn’t deserve those feelings from me. Not now.
Zach is erased from my thoughts as I pull up outside. My parents are standing outside their door, watching me park. Mum looks pale and tired. The tip of her nose is bright red and her eyes are puffy. Dad doesn’t look much better. Neither of them look like they’ve slept, and I feel awful that I’m the reason.
I slowly get out of the car, and Mum only hesitates for a second before she’s throwing the fleece blanket off her shoulders and racing down the path towards me.
Before I can utter a word, she has her arms around me, her chest heaving as she sobs out, “I’ve been so worried.” She pulls back, brushing my hair from my face. “I love you, Imogen, and nothing will ever change that.”
Tears fall as I hug her back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why don’t we take this inside?” Dad offers.
Mum wraps her arm around me and together we walk up the path and inside the house. Joshua looks up from his Switch. “Great, you’re back. I was hoping I would get your house,” he greets.
“Joshua,” Dad snaps.
“Just saying,” Josh groans. “She would have done the same.”
I really would have.
Mum sits down on the sofa, guiding me to the end seat so Dad can sit in the armchair next to me. “We have some explaining to do,” Dad begins.
“I read the files hidden in your office,” I admit. He glances down, but I see the pain before he can hide it. “I’m not sure there’s much more you could tell me.”
Mum whimpers. “Imogen, you are my daughter and you always have been. I knew you were mine from the minute I first held you. Biology doesn’t change that.”
“You both should have told me so I didn’t have to find out that way,” I whisper, yet I can’t ignore the relief I feel at her saying that to me. I think that has been my biggest fear.
“We know. And we’re sorry. But this doesn’t change anything,” Dad comforts.
I meet his gaze. “This changes everything,” I tell him, my voice breaking. “It’s altered everything I thought I knew about myself. It’s changed everything I knew about my family. How can you bear to look at me every day and not be reminded of what she did? Do you not worry every time I go out drinking that I’ll end up an alcoholic? Every tantrum I had as a teen, did you not hear her voice? How can you love me when I came from someone so cruel and selfish?”
Mum sniffles at my words before taking my hands. “Because you aren’t her. You are your own person, Imogen, and a pretty fantastic one. I may not have birthed you, but I am your mother. I gave you warm contact as a baby. I stayed up to feed you every two hours. I held you when you were fussy or crying. I sang to you. I read to you. I’ve watched you grow through every chapter of your life. When I look at you, I see my daughter; my sweet, sweet daughter who I love fiercely. I see the little girl I was blessed to have.”
“But she did unspeakable things. She sold herself, lied, and stole. She was a drug addict and a drunk. It would have been easier if I was never here.”
“God no,” she mewls painfully. “If you had never been here, I would never have become a mum. I would never have met your father or had your brother. She may have done some terrible things, including how you were conceived, but having you was the best thing she ever did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it wouldn’t have changed anything for us but it would have for you. You would have had questions, and as you now know, the answers aren’t pretty. She may have birthed you, but you came from us. We raised you. We never wanted to hide it from you, but after extensive research, we knew it might cause problems for you to learn it during your adolescent stage.”
“I’m not going to lie to you. When I read those files, I felt dirty. I was ashamed and couldn’t understand how you could raise me and love me. I questioned if it was all an act and wondered if you loved Josh more than you did me.”
“Of course, she does. I’m the favourite,” Josh interrupts, claiming the same thing he always has.
“I love you both equally,” Mum bites out, glaring at Josh. “But also differently. I love you because you are my daughter. Our bond is stronger because I watched you fight to survive. You were the reason I became a mum, and you were the first person I loved unconditionally since my parents died. I love our girl’s nights in and out. I love that we got to bond over various things that I don’t get to share with Josh. And I love Joshua because he is my baby, my last, and my son. You both bring me joy and happiness.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about any of this. I don’t know how to feel. It’s confusing. I’m hurt, angry, and sad, and they’re all clashing together, making it impossible to compartmentalise everything. I hate that you kept it from me. I hate that I’m not biologically your daughter—”
“And I’m not your mum,” Mum whispers, lowering her head.
“Babe, that’s not what she’s saying,” Dad assures her.
“This is what I’m struggling to grasp. I’m not upset about that because you are my mother. You always will be. I’m struggling to come to terms with the fact I’m not yours,” I declare brokenly. “I’m proud to call you my mum. I’m finding it hard to understand how you can want me to be your daughter. It sickens me to know who birthed me. And I feel lost. Disconnected.”
“I wanted you the minute I laid eyes on you. I’m proud of who you are, and I always will be,” Mum promises.
