Trials and Consequences of Love

Chapter 24

Elastic Heart – Sia ft The Weeknd & Diplo.

"One of the happiest moments in life is when you find the courage to let go of what you cannot change." – Anonymous

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🌺Aria🌺

"The key is on that table over there" I mutter as he rummages through the couches looking for his car key.

"Oh, thank you. I'll be back" he mutters walking out the door.

It's been like this for almost a week and he seems to be dealing with the 'break' well but it is killing me. We live together yet if it is not necessary then we don't speak; we don't eat together, we don't sleep together. If he wants to use the TV in the living room and he comes out and sees me watching it he just goes back into his room instead of sitting beside me as he usually would.

He spends most of his days with Kyle and Alexandre, I know this not because he tells me but because if I call Aurora, Emily or Valentina-Rosa, I always hear him in the background playing video games or watching sports.

There's so much I want to tell him, especially now but I'm afraid that when I do he'll either think I'm lying or he'll see me differently and I don't want to risk all that but I must tell him or I'll cause an even bigger rift between us and I don't want to risk losing him he means too much to me.

Closing my eyes, I rest my head against the back of the couch.

Maybe I should make him dinner?

No, I'm not sure when he'll be back.

Maybe I should call him and tell him I have good news and he should come home.

No, I don't want to disturb him, he'll find out soon enough anyway.

Maybe I should tell him.

And you think after all these years he will finally decide to answer one of your texts?

I mean, it'll be good news so why wouldn't he?

Birthdays, awards and graduations weren't good news?

Yes, but this will be different, this will be great news.

You're only hurting yourself Aria.

People change over time.

Yes, but not him.

You'll see.

Yes, we'll see.

Sitting up, I pull my phone off the coffee table before me; as I open the phone the emerald green walls seem to stare at me mockingly just as the black couch threatens to suck me into oblivion if I go through with this. Even the emerald green, black and gold modern geometric rectangular rug sitting beneath my feet seems to disagree with my actions.

But despite my mind's attempts to stop me I scroll down to the chat that has become a diary for me over the years as nobody ever checks the messages, I pull up the keyboard -ignoring the sting in my chest when I realize all the messages are still unread- and start typing a text I know that I'll regret.

Dad, it's me Aria; I hope you're okay and I hope your new family is doing well. I still can't wait to see you; I miss you very much. I have good news; I went to the doctor the other day and guess what? She told me that I'm pregnant, twelve weeks along. I hope it's a boy, I've always wanted my firstborn to be a boy. I hope you come to see him or her when I give birth or even come to say hello to the developing foetus or just call to say hello to me or the baby, whichever. I hope the baby will look like its dad and not me just so he or she won't look like me -and in turn, look like mom- so they can have an opportunity to meet their only living maternal grandparent.