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Eli’s gaze that could rival Antarctica’s frozen landscapes falls on me. “You turned twenty-three a few months ago and we’ve been married for over two years, Ava.”
I realize I’m shaking my head and force myself to stop as I study my parents’ gazes. “He’s lying, right? Mama…? Papa…?”
Since I was young, I’ve known my father to be a massive figure in and outside our home. The man who could fill the horizon with his presence alone but who still treated my mum like a queen and Ari and me like his princesses.
So to see him lower his head sparks a jolt of pain in me. Because I know, I justknowI’m the only note of discomfort and shame in his and Mama’s perfect family. The splash of black ink on his intricately woven life.
Ari is the normal, though mischievous, daughter. I’m the anomaly. The one they sometimes need to walk on eggshells around because I was born with a defective brain and a serious case of psychosis.
It was fine when I was living with them, when they could keep me under their watch and coax me to take the meds I hated more than my faulty brain.
But uni came along and I think they gave up. Or maybe I forced them to by keeping my distance whenever they popped the unorthodox question, “Have you been taking your meds?”
I’d say yes instead of the truth. I’d been substituting those fuckers with my favorite cocktail of alcohol and drugs.
Now, I can see that concern rising from the ashes as Mama shakes her head.
It’s not a lie.
If Eli is devious enough to stage this masquerade and even hire an entire medical crew for it, my parents would never betray me.
My gaze falls on those eyes that have haunted me my entire life.
Stormy. Icy. Mysterious.
And reality slams into me worse than my disturbing nightmares.
I’ve lost complete recollection of my life for two whole years.
And somehow, somewhat, someway, I managed to get myself in the worst trouble imaginable.
Getting married to Eli King.
This is just another nightmare I’ll eventually wake up from, right?
So it’s not a nightmare.
I lift my head from Cecily’s shoulder and stare at her face. Her hair is shorter now, all pretty and wavy. She looks more mature; her eyes sparkle differently.
Happy.
I realize that’s what she looks like. Happy.
Though something’s troubling her and I can take a wild guess that it has to do with me.
After Cecy and Ari came along, I managed to kick Eli out under the pretext that I needed girl time.
My sister’s style has also changed. She used to dress in these wannabe outfits that could rival the wardrobe of Satan’s favorite underlings, but right now, she’s wearing a cute polka-dot dress and black Prada boots.
Her bowl-cut dark hair makes her look adorable but like a gorgeous menace.
I can’t believe she’s, like, twenty now. Twenty.
The prospect that I didn’t only lose two years of my life but also of hers and everyone I care about floods my veins with unease.
As I push away from Cecy, Ari shimmies out of her boots and sits cross-legged on the hospital bed, watching me like a rookie detective from those late-night mysteries.
“You could use some skincare.”
