Her forehead shoots up in surprise.
“You know, your Dad and I had a lot of fights, when we were freshly dating. He pissed me off a lot -” she chuckles at the anecdote, but I’m not in the mood.
I can’t bear to hear about her and Dad’s perfect love story right now. Hearing it would just make me feel even more like a failure. Like I’m falling behind.
“You and Dad are different from Marlon and I. This isn’t the same.”
My voice is rough, cutting around the edges. I’d never spoken to Mum like this before, yet I can’t seem to stop. Her eyebrows furrow, confused at my attitude.
“I know, darling, but I’m just saying -”
“Iknowwhat you’re saying Mum, but I just need you to stop for a moment. Juststopsticking your head constantly in Marlon and I’s business.Please.”
Everything snaps, and the pent up frustration from years and years of her and Tita Regina meddling in my love life, of never garnering the courage to speak up, of coping with my family’s jokes and giggles about Marlon and I,no matter how much I’d despised it, pours out in boiling heat.
“It’s been like that for years. You and Tita Regina, andeveryoneare always getting in our business, even before we were together. You were both always trying to control us, to push us, so I need you to stop and let us be in our ownspacefor once.”
Regret crashes into me in violent waves, drowning my anger as Mum’s expression morphs into one of deep hurt. The edges of her eyes begin to redden.
I’m the reason why she’s tearing up right now, and the fact makes me want to rewind everything I’d just said.
“I-I’m sorry darling. I didn’t realise - I hadn’t known - It was never my intention to hurt you or bother you that way.”
I open my mouth, the apology on the tip of my tongue, yet I can’t seem to speak it. While I’m sorry for how I spoke, I’mnot sorry for finally telling her how I feel. How I’ve felt all these years. She gets up, heading toward the door. I glance away, tears springing to my eyes
“You can always tell me anything, you know? In your own time.”
I don’t respond as she shuts the door.
On Saturday, when I’m eating dinner with my parents in the living room, half-paying attention to the horror movie they’d put on, we hear a knock at the door. My parents glance at me in surprise.
“Were you expecting anyone?” they ask, but I know they mean Marlon.
I shake my head. It couldn’t possibly be him, right?
That’s when I get a text.
My breath catches, and the memories of his lips close to mine flood over me again. I’ve tried to tuck away the memory. Of everything that transpired on that date. Yet, I know that seeing him will bring it all back.
“It’s Marlon,” I say. Reluctantly, I make my way to the door. When I open it, he’s there, and he’s so beautiful, as he’s always been. Except, his brows are drawn in, his lips tightened at the edges. He’s without his easy-going smile, or the glint in his eyes. Instead, they swim with caution. He’s guarded.
“Marlon -”
“Can I talk to you outside?”
I purse my lips, glancing back at where the living room is. I don’t want my family hearing any of this. With a sigh, I step outside, closing the door. Marlon doesn’t waste a second.
“What’s wrong? What’s happening? Why haven’t you been talking to me?”
I count to three, breathing in deeply, willing myself not to cry, to yell, to say sorry. I remember Christine. It’s meant to be Marlon and Christine.
“I can’t - we just can’t - ,” I try desperately to hide the shiver in my voice, “I can’t talk about this right now with you Marlon, I can’t think properly. Maybe we should end this ruse now -”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, and I’ve never heard him speak so angrily, and toward me, “Who gives a fuck about the ruse? The ruse doesn’t - If there’s a problem, you come to me, you tell me. You don’t ignore me, youtalkto me Jaslene. You work this out, whatever is happening. But how am I meant to help you if you won’t tell me -”
“What ifyou’rethe problem?” I snap.
He steps back, shocked. Hurt. And I hate it.
