Broken Strings

C H A P T E R N I N E T E E N

"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."

- Emily Brontë

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Anisha took the cup of strawberry ice cream from Andrew's hands as he sat down next to her. Her daughter instantly reached over, smiling and wanting to try some of the ice cream.

She didn't want to go out for ice cream after Ryan's game. She had wanted to go home.

She just wanted to go home and sleep.

The soccer game had been fun enough. It was enough for her kids to remember her by. But then Mira had screamed and begged for ice cream.

But Anisha just wanted to go home.

Because she was scared. She hadn't taken her medications at all today, again.

And she was scared of getting another nosebleed. Because this time Andrew would know that something was wrong. And he would want to know what was in fact wrong with her.

She had really wanted to tell him what was wrong with her. She had really wanted to tell him. But she didn't want his fake concern.

She wanted him to care because he wanted to. Not because he was forced to.

And maybe she just didn't want to tell him because she didn't want to admit it. Because for a long time, she had acted like nothing was wrong.

It was easy to pretend. And that's all she had been doing, pretending.

She knew Andrew knew something was wrong with her. She knew Ryan knew something was wrong with her.

They just didn't know what that something was.

And it was okay for now.

Because that meant, she could continue pretending. Continue pretending to be okay.

She had wanted to go home, to go home and sleep.

But Mira had screamed she wanted ice cream. And then begged for her mother to come.

So Anisha had agreed.

Because she wanted to be happy, be happy with her family.

She smiled softly as she watched her two kids continue to argue with each other.

Mira continued yelling at her brother, complaining about how he sucked at soccer because he had missed the ball twice. And Mira reached over to hit her brother because he called her a spoiled brat. But instead she dropped her vanilla ice cream cone with sprinkles on the floor. She narrowed her eyes and looked between her mother and father, waiting for one of them to scold her. But when neither did, she reached over and took her father's ice cream, giving her father an innocent smile and taking a big bite of the coconut-flavored ice cream.

Anisha laughed softly as Mira made a yuck face, showing her dislike for the coconut ice cream and handed the cup back to her father.

Mira then smiled up at her mother, instantly filling Anisha's heart with warmth.

And Anisha wanted to cry.

It wasn't because she was sad.

No. Anisha felt happy.

She was happy.

For the first time in a really long time, she genuinely felt happy. For the first time, in a really long time, her smile was real.