Heart to heart

Eight

CORA WAS OUTSIDE, PLAYING WITH AARON. I didn't miss the way they looked at each other. It was a sight to behold forever. They were around the firepit, and my little brother was helping her put marshmallows on her stick. It made my heart warm. He was growing up. They were still very young, but childhood friends becoming lovers had always been one of my favorite tropes.

Once I was close enough to hear what they were discussing, my heart got stuck in my throat. Cora was giggling and I couldn't see very well but Aaron was blushing. He had a little smile playing on his lips, his hands still showing her how to correctly put the marshmallow on her stick. I didn't believe for a second that Cora did not know how to burn marshmallows. She was doing this on purpose, wasn't she? God, I loved love. My brain was spiraling, still, I saw the look on my brother's face. He seemed happy.

I glanced over at my parents and they were laughing, too. It had been a long while since we were all happy- smiling. And not just for the pictures this time. It was real, they were genuinely overjoyed.

I sat down next to Cora and once she spotted me, her mouth widened and she screamed. She rushed to my lap, asking me to braid her hair. I did not shrug her off, I didn't dare to. She was very persuasive. I remembered that much from the time I babysat her, she was hard to say no to.

As my brother glanced at me, I chuckled. I brushed Cora's hair with my fingers, humming the song that was playing on the speaker. Our parents were chatting and drinking, unaware that we existed. It felt kind of nice. The freedom of not being grounded or constantly hearing my father order me what to do.

After everything, my family had become my priority. Mostly because it always should have been that way and I had also been at fault. My stepmother and Jackson bickered a lot, which got to me. It was always over something stupid like him taking her towel, knowing damn well it was hers. My father never said anything, instead, he'd scream.

He detested fights, he didn't want to admit that both of them were wrong. He dodged bullets as well as he could. For Aaron and I, it worked. Whenever something was about to go down, we stayed out of it. We kept our mouths shut. But I couldn't deny that my parents were doing their best.   After everything with my mother and Matthew... It wasn't easy. We kept a smile on our faces and never complained. Who knew it would have actually made a difference?

Faking it had been easier than pretending like we needed to talk about it. There was nothing to explain, we all knew what had happened. We all knew who was to blame, too. Regardless, it was nice to see the fakeness of the facade we plastered on our faces fade away.

That's what summer brought to us. They were always the same, sometimes a little hotter, never colder. And we were changing. The years went by quickly and if we were to not stop and look around for some time, we would have missed all of it. Even though it was facile to blame my father for all my problems, I was well aware of the truth.

We didn't talk, we never really tried and it didn't matter to me that much. He did a lot for us, he worked his ass off to get where he was now and give us the life he wanted as a kid. Two years ago, I had royally messed that up.

He told me it wasn't my fault, that there was nothing I could have done to change what had happened. He was a liar. Nevertheless, I tried my best to believe him. Although, I really never did. Everyone should have hated me, it was because of me. If I could have changed the outcome of that day, I would have given my life for it.

"Am I pulling too hard?" I asked. Cora was still staring at the fire, sometimes glancing at my brother. Their gazes met and they were too shy to maintain eye contact. It was cute–no. Cute wasn't strong enough; bewitching and adorable were. They might have been discovering the meaning of attraction as I observed them. No matter what it was, that precious memory would remain in my heart forever. Maybe not all was lost, I hoped.