Deceitfully Yours

55.

It was six o'clock in the evening when I finally arrived at Hobart terminal and the nostalgia that hit me when I breathed in the scent of leatherwood flowers made my eyes water with so much tears that I nearly started to bawl there on the street.

I couldn't believe I was home. I couldn't believe I had done this. I couldn't believe I was going to see my mother for the first time in forever.

After retrieving my suitcases from the baggage carousel, I boarded the metro bus along with the others waiting in line and took a seat by the window.

While more people boarded and settled in their respective seats, I fished out my phone and texted Stefan.

"I'm home safe,"

He was the only one I had told about my plans to fly back to Australia last night, and although he was also strongly against the idea of me leaving and thought it was better if I stayed behind and tried to fix whatever Tristan and I had going on, he relented upon my insistence and went out of his way to upgrade my ticket for me.

I'd never flown first class before and I'd always secretly wondered what lay beyond the curtains cloaking the front-of-the-plane area.

Yesterday, I had finally figured it out, and though I felt out of place sitting and dining with high-class upstate men, I was pleased to have avoided the drama that inevitably came with flying coach.

As the bus started to drive into the traffic ahead, I plugged in my earphones, listening to Ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine play as I stared outside the window, watching the cars that hissed by us and the bistros and restaurants that bustled with Aussie commuters going in and out.

I smiled. Life in Hobart had definitely improved from how I remembered it.

It was funny how three years ago, I believed a life lived on this secluded little island was a life wasted. It felt like just yesterday when I had boarded this same bus to the airport and flown to Texas with the thought of escaping entrapment.

But I was back to my roots. Well, technically not my roots since the father who went out to get milk and never returned was supposedly from Mexico, but whatever.

My phone gave a soft buzz, startling me.

I tapped on the screen and my lock screen lit up, showing a text message from Stefan. I quickly unlocked it and read through his message.

Stefan: glad you made it back safe, I've been worried sick. Your husband on the other hand has been lashing out at everyone and everything, I don't think he's handling your absence well. Hopefully, he doesn't fire me out of spite. Hehehe. :)

A feeling of an overwhelming dread that I couldn't explain dawned on me, making my heart ache.

I didn't want to think about him because right now, my brain was still a hive of emotions. I was still very furious and still very hurt and at the same time I had so many thoughts rushing through my head, so many regrets making my stomach churn in knots.

Maybe I should have stayed...

Maybe I should have stayed and handled things like an adult instead of taking the coward's way out and running off.

I shook my head at the adverse thoughts.

This was no time to second guess my choices. It was for the best.

My feelings for Tristan were getting thicker and thicker by the passing minute and deep down, beneath all the emotional turmoil, I knew there was a part of my heart that had started to fall for him and it scared the shit out of me because he wasn't the kind of man I wanted to feel this way for.

Yes, he'd been good to me these past months, and it wasn't just the sex. He'd shown me the other sides to him, the ones he kept mostly private. The attentive, caring, silly, clingy side, the side of him that spoiled me with gifts, the side of him that held me tight and painted my cheeks and neck with kisses like he couldn't get enough of me.

But that didn't change the fact that I couldn't separate that caring man from the one who had hurt me, the one who belted me and choked me, the one who ignored my existence like I meant nothing and said mean heart-slicing things that made me rethink my purpose in life.

That version of him was still in there, and two days ago, he'd proved to me that it was closer to the surface than I thought it was.

He was like comfort and chaos; one moment you felt a warmth like never before, and then the next you were having your heart ripped out of your chest and finding yourself trapped in a never-ending circle of pain and ruin.

I knew it was a bad idea feeling this type of way for him and that was one of the reasons why I had decided to take this trip. I needed to get my shit together and push past the want of my weak bruised heart.

I took a deep shuddering breath and stared back out the window.

I could totally do this. I could get over him. I would.

"Leticia!" My mother hollered the moment she opened the door and saw me standing by the white picket fence. "Oh my god!" She pushed her head back inside the house and yelled. "Ax come! your sister is here!"

"Mum..." I whispered, my lips trembling. I didn't know if it was because I was jet lagged or just a mess of a million emotions but I dropped my suitcase and crossed the leafy lawn and I fell right into her arms, bursting into tears.

"Oh Leticia," she cooed, her voice going thick with tears. "Don't cry, you're going to make Mama cry too,"

I sobbed into her shoulder, squeezing her a little tighter. "I missed you so much, mum. I'm so sorry it took this long."

"It's okay honey." She rubbed her hand soothingly up and down my back. "You're home now, my beautiful girl, that's all that matters."

A low laugh resonated behind us.
"Is that the prodigal sister I see?"

My eyes popped open at the sound of the deep voice that rang through the house and when I looked up from my mother's shoulder and saw the tall handsome blue-eyed, auburn-haired man walking toward me, my heart surged.

The last memory I had of him was of him in a wheelchair and now he was walking to me, his arms wide open with the brightest smile on his beautiful face.

Tears rushed to my eyes once more and pricked my nose. "Axton..."

"Come here, baby girl."

I broke away from my mother's grasp and dashed towards the front door to my brother I hadn't seen in three years and I launched myself into his arms, the impact of it almost knocked us both over to the floor.

"Ah, there we go." He laughed, lifting me in his arms and twirling me around before like a cherished child. "Welcome home, Sienna."

I smiled.

I was home.