All Novel Sweet
Chapter 25
Chapter 25
Cynthia, my mom, hugs me like we have been parted for years, squeezing the absolute life out of me as tears wash down her pretty face. I hug her back awkwardly, a little stiff in her hold, but deep down somewhere inside of me is, a tug of genuine joy. We’re in the immaculate, beautiful hall of our home in The Hamptons, a place that used to be seem a fairytale castle to me so long ago. The home and family of my dreams and it had taken an age to accept it as real.
All my bags are sat by the stair as Arrick lingers behind, giving us the space to reacquaint now he has delivered my little homecoming speech on my behalf to tearful parents. He’s been my mature and loyal protector once more, doing the hard things, so I don’t have to.
Aiden, my dad, moves Mom aside when she releases me and treats me to the same phenomenal squeeze wordlessly. That large bear hug that almost crushes my bones, and for once the inner repulsion of the male touch does not ignite. The need to just have them love me again overpowering anything else. I can’t help but cry, despite the war going on in my head.
I have so many emotions and none of them good. The drive home was long and tense after the initial re-bonding and idle chit-chat subsided. I got more and more nervous with every passing mile and managed to convince myself that this was all wrong. Arrick turned on the radio and left me to nap. I pretended to, but all the while my head was just in complete chaos and still is.
Coming back is something I wanted deep down, but not sure it’s what I actually need. I have so many doubts swirling around in my head and question whether this is going to help in any way. I’m just walking back into the pressure of having to be normal, pretending to be okay, when I’m clearly not. I’m tense, my chest aching and the walls closing in on me like I can’t breathe as my parents’ fluff around me, preening and cooing, and making me feel a hundred times shittier than I do already. I don’t know if I can handle this now that I’m here.
How can I tell my family that nothing here makes me feel happy? How can I tell them that within seconds of being back my feet are aching to run straight back out?
I haven’t just been too afraid to come home to face the consequences, I have been avoiding home because I see no way this will change how I felt months ago and have done ever since. The pain that started my downward spiral; it started here, and seems to have worsened now I’m home, like a deep pit of anxiety, telling me something is so very wrong.
“My beautiful little girl.” My mother strokes back my hair affectionately, like she always did, and rubs my face gently. Her wise gray eyes wrinkling at the corners as she smiles wholeheartedly, tears rolling down her cheeks. It’s obvious that my leaving hurt her deeply, and the love and joy shining in her face almost destroys what is left of my sanity. The fact that she can still love me this way, no matter how awful I was the day I ran out on them and threw it all back in their face. No matter how silent I have been for months and refused to see or speak to any of them. They just welcome me back, like none of it matters. The guilt now killing me, ripping me open and turning my guts inside out.
“We have been so fraught with worry over you darling girl. Don’t ever run away from us again, my heart cannot take a loss like you.” She kisses me on my cheeks, holding my face in her palms and gazing adoringly. My stomach shreds with conflicting pains.
This woman may not be my birth mother, but in the six years of being adopted into this family I have cherished and loved her as though she is. Even when I ran, I never stopped loving all of them. My father is a man of fewer words, tall and strong with silver gray hair and a kind face, but his repeated hug as he moves his wife over again says more than he needs to. They have missed me.
“Thanks, son.” He moves past me to Arrick and shakes his hand heartily. Genuine joy in his tone. “Thank you for bringing our little girl home.” Aiden pats Arrick on the shoulder with a deep loving smile, that macho manly show of appreciation without all the emotional side. “Want a beer?”
“Sure,” Arrick nods, coming to stand beside me as my mother finally releases me again. I don’t know how to behave, standing like a naughty child who’s unsure what to say or do. Arrick slides an arm around my back and across my shoulder loosely as we watch my dad walk off to the kitchen door a few feet away.
“I’ll help her up to her room with her bags, give her time to get changed and let you freshen up.” He gestures to my mom’s running mascara and smiles sweetly. His family has known them his whole life and is as much his family as they are mine; he has that easiness around them that I do with his parents. I regard my mom’s rosy cheek and makeup blotched face, her dark red curly hair nestled around a heart-shaped face and nod in agreement. I can’t find any actual words that won’t set me off, so I chew my lip instead, bottling up all the anxiety and panic I’m feeling. I know it’s going to come exploding out if I don’t get out of here soon. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.
“Thank you, Arry, such a loving boy, always my favorite one you know. That brother of yours was such a little devil child, but you were always the sweetheart who brought me flowers.” She tweaks his cheek affectionately and then turns on her heel to find her husband in the nearby kitchen, leaving us alone. Arrick lets go of me, completely unaware of the growing rise of anxiety inside of me and heads for my bags at the foot of the stair. Not that he needs to, as my mom’s house staff will not only take them but unpack them too, but this is Arrick. Despite his own wealth, he always likes to do things himself, always did.
He moves to the pile and slides one on his shoulders once more, hooking the handle of the remaining bag in one hand and the case in the other. I stand still, turning to watch my parents in the kitchen for a moment, the unconcealed joy and elation that is practically emanating from them right now just makes me feel strangled. I’m glued to the spot, the throbbing ache that is devouring my chest and throat is spreading like wildfire through me.
“This was a mistake.” I blurt out, emotions hitting me full force suddenly as tears bite my eyes, and I try not to fall apart. “I shouldn’t have come here; I’m only going to disappoint them again and hurt them over and over.” I sob out a little whimper and pull it back in time, not wanting to let this torrent of pain loose and knowing it will if I stay. I make a move for the door, a foot heading that way fast and brain lagging, but Arrick is swift in counteracting my route, dropping the luggage and catching me face on as I get to the front entrance.
“Uh, uh! You are coming upstairs, and we’re going to talk this out.” He catches me by the shoulders, gripping on tight and glances over my head to make sure they haven’t seen my attempt at running once more. Hooking his arm around me tightly, he guides me in the direction of the stair, and there is nothing I can do about it without drawing their attention to us. He doesn’t bother with the bags, just hauls ass, and drags me as fast as he can out of sight, pulling me up the carpeted steps fast. I struggle in his strong embrace, now he has me in the crook of his arm and pulled against his body, but it’s futile. He’s just pure muscle and a strong build, and I am barely hitting the five-foot-five mark of scrawny ‘girliness’.
“Arrick, let me go, this was dumb.” I’m sobbing once more, a million emotions running through me and my heart breaking in two. I haven’t fixed anything by coming home. I’ve just brought my problems to new scenery, and soon Arrick will head back to the city without me. The one person who keeps my head above water will be so much further away, and no longer just a phone call away. I can almost feel the hysteria of a panic attack coming on from that fact alone.
I dry my eyes with the back of my hands in a bid to regain control of the crazy sudden outburst, and desperately try to breathe myself back to calm. Mumbling incoherently as I argue with him, but it just comes out as a mass of hysterical gibberish through a running nose and tears.