Betrayal, Secrets & Love

When it Rains, It Pours

Milira knew when one became excited or scared, the flight or fight response tends to take over. She couldn't deny the emotions rushing at her. Her heartbeat cantered harder the faster her feet carried her back to her room. At first, she hesitated. The past few days were a whirlwind of surprises, life-shattering changes and secrets. Did she dare unearth more? What would Alexander's note contain? More so, the note Aiden handed her? Could she escape it? No. No matter how much she wanted to run from her problems, they managed to find her regardless. She raised her chin and took tentative steps towards the woven laundry basket. Her hands shook as she dumped the loads of dirty washing out on the floor. She lowered down onto her haunches and picked apart the clothes all while her eyes searched for the jeans, she wore the day Dean handed her the letter.

The envelope, albeit a little more crumpled, remained safely tucked away in the jeans. She withdrew it, the quake in her hands increasing. With slow movements, she brought it to her nose and sniffed, seeking out the familiar orange flavour Alexander carried. He loved eating oranges, the citrus from the peeled skin always enveloped him and everything he touched. Somehow, just by holding the letter, the anger she felt for him, evaporated. How could she be mad at him? He made a single mistake: he bore a weakness, the same weakness she had for chocolate. Her mind knew about the calories chocolate contained, and her uncle realised his gambling ways ensured bankruptcy, but the taste and the trill were too pleasurable to give up.

Maybe if she knew earlier, if she didn't obsess over her own life, her own goals, maybe then she might have seen the signs. Maybe she could have helped Alexander with the strength he didn't have. Could it be possible that all of this pain could have been avoided if I made an effort to open my eyes?

It didn't matter anymore. She couldn't change the past or hammer on what if's. Instead, she traced the letter in her hands. The letter Elsie, Aiden's mother gave her, remained at her side. What did Aiden's mother want to share with her? Sure, they knew each other, but why write a letter to her? She inhaled. One obstacle at a time, Mil.

With the thought in mind, Milira opened Alexander's letter.

Inside, laid nothing more than a scrap of paper, hastily written to the point of being undistinguishable.

In time my beloved niece; you will come to understand my actions. I never intended to use you as payment. You will find out my secrets and I hope you will come to understand my choices.

Love

Alexander

Milira glared at the letter, closed her hand into a fist and crumbled the paper and its useless words. She never anticipated his coldness and abruptness. She expected him to explain, to provide her with answers; instead, he left her with the dread of more secrets being revealed. How dared he? She felt foolish for thinking her hatred towards him disputed. The lines between her beloved uncle and his secret keeping, started to blur. Alexander became a stranger.

Her eyes brimmed with tears but she refused to let them fall. She couldn't allow the war raging inside her over her uncle's goodness to consume her, she needed to shelve it, wait, and give herself time to mourn and time to find herself among the dishevelled mess, and then decide.

Milira got up off her knees, and collapsed onto her bed. Elsie's letter still laid in waiting, looming over her as Damon Carleton loomed over her life. The unopened letter beckoned her. She withdrew it from its hiding place and stared at it, hoping to get a good or bad vibe. If only she could sense when trouble came knowing, to see it from afar.

Like a bandage, just rip it off.

The letter, unlike Alexander's, was lengthier and well written, the first line gave Milira immediate pause. She closed her eyes, breathed deep and opened her lids. When it rains, it pours. I'm already in deep, might as well go deeper.