Chapter 0043

I fall back against my pillows then, tears slipping down my cheeks. I know it’s not my fault – I was just a

little kid – but I feel absolutely rotten. I must have broken his heart into a million pieces.

My door creeks open again and I see Daniel’s dark head peak in. “Fay?” he asks, hesitating. “Are you

home already? Can I come in?”

“Sure,” I say, wiping at my eyes.

“Are you all right?” he asks, pressing the door closed and coming to sit next to me on the bed. I nod,

sniffing and working hard to contain myself.

“Yeah, just…looking through old pictures,” I say, gesturing towards the album. Daniel picks it up and

leafs through it.

“Oh wow,” he says, looking between me and the woman on the page. “Fay, she looks just like you.”

“I know,” I respond, my eyes wide. “Obviously I remember what she looks like, from when I was a kid,

but…I didn’t realize I’d grown to resemble her so much.”

He nods, still leafing through. Then he looks at me. “I can see how this would be hard for you. I never,

ever go through my mom’s old albums.”

I nod, reaching out a hand for his, understanding. Life can be so terribly difficult sometimes, especially

when you’ve lost a parent. It’s a fine line, between wanting to remember them and missing them so

horribly that all you want to do is run from the feeling.

Daniel squeezes my hand and we both sit quietly together, having our separate thoughts.

I stare at the album – closed, now, on my duvet – and wonder what changed in her life. What made her

go from that day, when she was so happy, to deciding to flee with me, to leave it all behind.

And I can’t help but wonder if it will all be the same for me. I mean, I’m not in precisely the same

situation – I’m not married to a man I clearly love, having borne his child – but in some ways, seeing my

face in those albums, it feels like it’s her again – repeating the past.

Am I really doomed to repeat it? Will I, too, replace reason to flee from this world, to try everything I can to

leave it behind and build a new life in hiding? Would it eventually take me out to?

And what, really, killed her? Was it really just a car accident, or is that too much of a coincidence, for a

Don’s bride to be killed so shortly after she fled?

Oh my god, was I going to die young as well?

I burst into tears again, fear and sorrow and panic flooding my body. Daniel puts his arms around my

shoulders, confused, beginning to ask again what’s wrong when the door opens again.

I look up to see Kent standing there, but I can’t stop crying.

“What’s all this?” Kent asks, crossing his arms over his chest, taking in Daniel’s sad expression and my

flood of tears.

I’m crying too hard to answer, but Daniel responds to him with a frown. “She’s just having a hard day,

dad,” he says. “Leave her be.”

“It’s time for dinner,” Kent says, ignoring his son. “Dry your tears and come down to eat before it gets

cold.”

I shake my head, sniffing again, working hard to stop crying – it’s so embarrassing to cry in front of

someone like Kent, who always has it together – but I can’t. I take a deep breath and try to speak

through my tears. “I’m not –“ Hic – “Hungry.” Is all I can manage.

“You are hungry,” Kent says, his voice low. “You’ve barely eaten all day!”

The tears start to come harder as he yells at me – I’m just completely overwhelmed. I watch him,

watching me cry, see the anger in his face turn into something else – worry, pity, even fear.

“Stop that!” he yells, pounding a fist against the wall. I take a deep breath, working hard to do as he

says – to obey. But I can’t hold it in. Despite myself, the tears continue to roll down my cheeks, my

chest wracked with repressed sobs.

“Dad!” Daniel says, getting to his knees on the bed. “Will you just get out of here!? She’s having a hard

time, and you yelling at her isn’t doing anything to help!”

Kent just glares at us, first Daniel, and then me, and then storms from the room, slamming the door

behind him.

We both wait a minute to see if it takes, but he doesn’t come back. “Sorry about that,” Daniel murmurs,

leaning back against the pillows again.

“Why –“ I say, wiping at my eyes with a corner of the bed sheet “why was he so mad?”

Daniel shakes his head, still staring at the door. “Little known fact about my dad,” he says. “He can’t

stand to see people he loves cry.”

I sniff a little. “He seems okay watching you cry,” I say, tentatively.

Daniel shrugs, considering. “Just the women, then. I guess.”

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