The Sharp Steel

The cold truth

I knocked on the door and waited for mum to answer like usual, forgetting the fact that my face looked totally different from that morning. "April!" Mum exclaimed as she opened the door, I jumped, not yet realising why she was so shocked.
"What?"
"Your face!" It dawned on me at that moment what she was flapping about.
"Oh it's fine, I just got into an argument."
"Again!" She held my face in the doorway and blocked me from sheepishly flooding in the apartment.
"It was the same girls sister."
"What was her fists made out of- bricks?!" Her voice grew louder and louder the more upset she got. I tried knocking her hands of my face but she wouldn't stop looking at my injuries.
"It was my own comeuppance." I sighed, agitated by her fussing. "Please, let me get in." She rolled her eyes and moved out of the way. I walked into the front room and dropped my bag on the floor.

"I need to ask you something." She sat down next to me rather seriously.
"What?"
"Why didn't you tell me about dad's photo?"
"How did you know about that?" I stood up, outraged. Had she been going through my things?
"Look, calm down. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because it's just a photo."
"It isn't just a photo." I frowned "...on the back, the words I love you wasn't written by me or your dad."
"...then who?"
"It was written by-" she stopped for a moment, took a deep breath. "It was written by the girl your dad was cheating on me with."

I sat back down and thought about what she had said.
"What?" I looked at her and questioned whether I believed her but her tears was enough proof. "When did it happen... Why didn't you tell me?"
"It was the reason we split up. I didnt cheat on your dad... it was him only." I froze, this whole time... I had been wrong this whole time. "I knew you loved your dad, it would have hurt even more if you found out he deceived me. So I took the buillet. However, that's why I didn't let you live with him, not when he decided to live with his mistress."

I could feel my eyes becoming heavy and I could feel a lump forming in my throat, I knew that soon I was going to cry like a baby. I suddenly thought of everything in a new light. His death, my resentment towards my mum, my grief... my scars. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." She kept on repeating.
"Who is this women?" My tone deepened and became angry.
"I don't think you need to know that."
"Who is she mum!" I looked at her with the pure rage glaring in my eyes. I gave her the stare of a wicked villain.
"I don't know where she lives now, all I know is her name is Eliza Smith. She's a lawyer in London or something." I picked up my bag and left the room with my heavy footsteps echoing around the room. "What are you doing?!" Mum shouted after me, but I was rage induced and I needed to know who she was!

I closed my bedroom door and looked for my laptop. My heart was racing, my adrenaline was pumping and my head was conflicted. I couldn't believe that all this time I was looking up to him, grieving for him, when he lied to my face day after day. I opened my laptop and Googled the mystery mistress. Two people came up that was close to mum's description of her.
I opened my door and showed mum the laptop.
"Which one is she?" I showed her the two photos.
"Please, it doesn't matter now, we have all moved on."
"I haven't- now tell me!" I shouted at her, I couldn't give two flying fuck about respect, I wanted answers now. She looked at the laptop and unwillingly pointed to the bottom photo. I nodded and went back into my room to find out everything I could about her.

She had bright blonde hair like my mum. She was young, in her early thirties at least. She worked out every weekend by the look of her Instagram photos and even better, she only lived a tube ride away. I scribbled down her address and got my jacket. "I'm going to meet her." I said as I passed the living room. She ran out and took a grip of my arm.
"Please, I have already shouted and screamed with her and your father, we agreed to keep it from you for you. I didnt want to hurt you. She agreed she would stay out of your life." She looked at me with red puffy eyes. "She made your father happy, something I couldn't do." I looked at the floor and shook her hand off my arm, I still wanted to leave. I looked at her, at someone who also lied to me for years. I didn't know whether to hate her or forgive and forget. But I knew that I needed time to breath.

I walked out of the apartment, ignoring mum's pleads. I opened my lungs to the muggy air. I leant on the wall and closed my eyes for a moment. I then suddenly screamed at the top of my lungs and kicked the wall hard. 'The one person you loved...' I thought '...was the one who was the liar.' I cried. 'He didnt care about me, about mum.' I wiped my tears away. 'You hated the one who tried to heal you, the one who sacrificed herself for you... your own mum.' Nothing felt real. All those times I slept over my dad's house, all those times I called him on the phone, he was lying to me. I scarred myself because I wanted to be with him so much. I was doing it for nothing. I scarred myself to be with a horrid, two faced bastard! I was fooling myself. Looking up at the sky and looking at the stars, what was the point? The stars don't matter anymore, nothing matters anymore. Everyone lies. Everyone.

I opened the piece of paper with the women's address on it, I wondered whether I should go, whether it was wrong or if I had a fair reason to ask her questions. I juggled between what my heart said and what my head said. I decided to go with my heart. I walked down to the train station and waited on the 6th platform for a train to the outskirts of London. I got on the empty train and looked at my phone, 3 missed calls and a dozen of bombarded messages from mum. I ignored them, already knowing what the messages would say. I needed answers and I was determined to get them.