As We Are | Book 2

Late Night Drive

Chapter Thirteen

Late Night Drive

I drive home with a heavy heart.

I should be over the moon about the news of Sandy Palmers – an influential artist – wanting to work with Desirae.

But I'm not.

I mean, of course I'm excited that Desirae is finally getting the big break she deserves, and I can't wait to break the amazing news to her, but the feelings of heavy hearted sadness and heartbreak are eating away at the excitement I was once feeling.

The moment I said goodbye to Sandy after I told her we'd keep in touch, I hopped inside the car and immediately felt miserable.

It's like the first moment I get to myself alone, I can finally let the birds of misery out of their cage.

I grip the wheel tightly and carefully turn a corner.

I know what's bothering me, but I don't want to come to terms with it.

The truth is, attending my first funeral today, triggered some feelings of the past which I thought I've overcame.

When I lost my baby sister Madison when I was eight, I internalised my grief and the pain in my heart.

Over the years, after I fully mourned her death, I began celebrating her memory and she became a bright thought in my mind instead of a dark one.

Thinking of her makes my heart feel so full.

It's the same when I think about the twin brother I lost before coming into this world.

But I can't say the same for my father. Every time I think about his life and his death my emotions spiral almost out of control.

Now that I've put a name and a face to him, feelings are attached to the man I would've been calling my father.

It makes the situation so much more tragic.

My father was a hopeful man with big dreams, but those big dreams didn't work out.

He was expecting twins and he lost one. The pain was too much to bear but he held it together for his small family of a white-haired, blue-eyed baby named Chris, and his wife.

But this cruel world turned his dream into a nightmare.

He got his pastry shop shut-down and he went out of business.

Then his life became so unbearable that he decided to end it.

What a tragic way to live and a tragic way to go out.

And what's more heart-breaking is that at one time or another in my tragic life until four years ago, I used to relate to that depressive way of thinking.

But I held on. I held on with all my might until things took a turn I never thought they would.

But Dad wasn't strong enough to hold on. I really wish he was. It would've been such an honour to meet him.

I drive on the highway out of the city, a few exits away from my suburb.

Then in a split second, I make a rash decision to take the next exit, still in one of the suburbs of the city.

I drive around until I'm parked out in front of my father's pastry shop.

Maybe the only way I can overcome the overwhelming grief of my father is by coming face-to-face with his memory.

Tears fall down my eyes as soon as I see the broken down little shop which looks so small next to the big buildings around it.

I hate seeing broken dreams.

It's a humble building which reminds me of terrace homes in the inner city. The pastel sign is faded and eroded, looking like a random assortment of letters.

The windows are dusty, too foggy to be able to see inside of.

I feel my heart breaking as I think about what my father went through.

I think of the excitement he must have been feeling to open this place up.

Another hot tear rolls quickly down my face.

I throw my head back and get myself together for a minute.

I think about the only bright thing that stops my mind from wondering into a dark place.

A smiling image of Desirae pops into my mind and I feel myself smile a little.

Before I break the good news to Desirae, inform her of her collaboration with a national soul artist, I want to take her somewhere special.

Somewhere that'll inspire her. But where?

I recall her saying something about loving the 'natural environment.'

Whatever that means.

As soon as I get home, I need to do some research on picturesque places around the state to take her and break the exciting news.

It'll be perfect. For both of us.

I sigh heavily and start up the car again, ready to go home and sleep for as long as possible.

I take one quick look at the shop and I'm startled to the core.

The windows are no longer grimed, they are a glowing luminous orange.

The lights inside the broken down shop have been switched on.

I look in carefully, trying to make out if there is somebody in the shop.

My question is soon answered and I drive away without hesitation.

Afraid that the figure inside might be watching me, as I was watching them.