Page 77 of Burdens
My father’s voice had always been at the back of my mind, reminding me that I wasn’t worthy. That I wouldn’t amount to anything because I was weak.
The list went on and on, but my mother’s presence had always dulled the voices to a quiet hum instead of the constant blare they’d used to be.
She’d shaped how I saw myself and with her gone, I’d been left with endless questions of whether I was truly my own or that I’d tricked myself into thinking I was because my mother had constantly told me so.
“I didn’t know how to navigate her loss. She meant a lot to me, more than I could even put into words and losing herso… unexpectedly sent me into a really bad place. She’d never even told me about her cancer or given me a chance to be there for her or say goodbye.”
I paused, taking a deep breath before I continued.
“I wanted to talk to you, I really did, but I thought it’d just be easier not to burden you with what I was going through, what I was about to go through.”
Amalia brushed her fingertips over my cheeks before reaching for my locks and brushing them back. Her gaze hadn’t left mine the entire time, and she looked at me with so much… I didn’t even know how to describe it except that it made me feel listened to and not pitied.
“That’s why you left,” she mused, but her tone wasn’t accusatory. Instead, it felt filled with understanding of why I had, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Her fingertips grazed the contours of my face as if she knew I needed the physical comfort of her touch. “It doesn’t erase the anger and hurt I felt for years toward you for leaving, but I understand it a bit better now. I seeyoubetter now.”
I took a shuddering breath.
I’d never allowed myself to dream much growing up, but deep down, I’d always wished to find someone with whom I could be there and just… be. I didn’t have to provide them with something or be someone.
I’d found exactly that the moment Amalia had stepped into my life. I might have realized it too late and after I’d fucked things up, but having her in my arms right now felt overwhelming.
What did I ever do to deserve her?
Emotions I’d buried deep surfaced and my throat grew tight.
She must have seen the change in my expression because her fingers trailed to my chin.
“Come here,” she said gently before pulling me to her and pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. She pulled away after a few seconds before giving three more chaste kisses, each one a direct line to my heart, making it stutter every time her soft lips brushed mine.
I fucking loved this girl.
I see you better now.
Her earlier words slowly loosened the vice grip that had been squeezing around my chest for the last decade.
I’d never told her about my father because it terrified me that she might look at me differently, that she might think I was too much and abandon me, which had been another reason why, despite how much it pained me to leave her, it was a little easier to do the leaving than to be left.
But her understanding made me confess the rest of my story because I wanted her to truly see everything about me.
I just had to hope I was still enough.
Her eyes were still on me, her fingertips having resumed randomly tracing lines and shapes on my chest.
I pulled my gaze away from hers, focusing my attention on what she was doing because nerves rattled my heart, making its beat hitch up to a dangerous zone.
Silence stretched between us, but she wasn’t forcing me to speak up. She just let me take my time, however long that was.
Finally, I swallowed and started to explain everything I hadn’t felt ready to tell her before.
“My father didn’t like me very much growing up. He…” I paused, clearing my throat. “He didn’t think I was worthy to be his heir. He felt like I had too many emotions for a job that required you to have none. He used to tell me that he would havepreferred my mother to never have had me because at least that would have been better than having to raise someone like me.”
Amalia stopped her movements and I could feel her gaze boring into me, but I couldn’t look at her just yet or I would never finish telling her everything.
“My father would have undoubtedly preferred me succumbing to one of his beatings or weeks-long stays in the basement cell than be associated with him. I mean, he did eventually try to have me killed because I’d survived everything else he’d put me through despite his best efforts.”
Amalia’s body stiffened against mine at my last words.
“Good thing my mom came in just as one of my father’s henchmen was about to slice my throat open.” A self-pitying laugh escaped me as I shook my head. “If she’d arrived a second later, my father’s wishes would have come true.”
