Zayn Malik's Long Lost Sister (Unedited)

45. Patricia

"Want what I'm making?" I ask Patricia, turning my back to her again while I take the hot cup of water from the microwave. "I can make it for you."

"That'd be lovely, thank you." She responds. Her straight hair was pulled back into a high pony tail and in the light of the kitchen, her skin looked as if it were slightly glowing.

I quickly filled another cup of water and heated it up, giving the first already made cup to Patricia. She thanked me quietly before reaching for a small basket of packeted sugar that rest on the counter nearby.

After I made my cup, I had a few packs of sugar added and stirred it around with a small spoon. I took a small sip and groaned quietly when it burned my tongue and upper lip. One of my hands flew up to my mouth, my four fingers covering my now sore lip. My eyes met hers quickly, hoping she hasn't noticed.

But she was already watching me with concern clear in her expression.

"Be careful." I tell her quietly, dropping my hand from my mouth. "It's a bit hot."

As if she couldn't help herself, she let out a soft giggle at my obvious warning. The steam was clearly seen coming from the liquid in the two cups.

"Thank you for the warning." She says. "So, if I may ask, what's got you bothered enough to pry you away from sleep?"

"I, uh.... I had gotten a phone call from my mom just before I had the chance to fall asleep." I don't know if confessing my thoughts to Patricia was the smartest idea I've had, but maybe it'll help to talk about it.

"Is the conversation between you two troubling you?" She asks, taking a tiny sip from her mug.

"No.... Yes. I don't know, it's complicated." I sigh.

"Marley," Patricia starts, her index finger tracing the ring of her cup. "I know I'm one of the last people you feel comfortable talking to, but I want you to know that I'm here to listen, just as I said before. I'm terrible with words, but if you need me to just sit and listen then I can do that for you."

"I don't know how it would turn out if I complained to you about parental issues that I'm experiencing. I could rub it in your face and say that my parents are the best and tell you how much I love them, but I'm sure it's clear how much they can get to me."

"Anything you want to say, I'll hear it. I know I'm not your rightful parent because I had given you up-" My chest ached and my gaze dropped. "-But I want to make it up to you in anyway I can. So, tell me your troubles."

"Okay," I pushed my hair from my face before leaning back against the island in the middle of the kitchen. "I thought that my mom and dad would change because I wasn't there anymore. Maybe they would change because they wanted me to come back to them after they've worked on allowing me to be myself. I thought that maybe they'd let me make my own decisions because I finally know the truth, but its not happening. I thought that me leaving to come here would be a wake up call for them, but... My mom told me I shouldn't talk to certain people here and she's still trying to run my love life. I've lived all my life thinking that my parents and grandparents were all the relatives I have. It just sucks that they don't trust me enough to let me live my own life, my own way. I'm not me when I'm with them. I'm this person who is rewarded for speaking properly when spoken to or quietly sitting on the side when I'm not acknowledged. I'm done being someone I'm not, I want to be who I am and that's not what my parents are trying to make me be."

"If I may," Patricia says, her hand motioning toward me until I nod for her to continue. "I think you're right. I've raised four kids and allowed each of them to be themselves. Look where it's gotten Zayn. They've been so happy because I've never pushed them to be who they weren't, I always thrived when they accomplished things while they were themselves. I love their different and loving personalities, but they've explored them at a young age because I let them decide who and what they wanted to be."

"Why couldn't you have been my mom?" I ask without a second thought. I cleared my throat before standing up straight, hoping she didn't hear my words, but I knew she did because her whole expression changed and softened.

"Marley, I wanted to be-"

"No, don't." I say, holding up one of my hands. "Please. I don't want to hear you say that you would've wanted nothing more than to keep me."

"But its the truth. I'm so sorry I gave you up, it was my biggest regret and I can't even begin to explain how it's eaten me up every night since I gave you to them." Patricia's eyes filled with tears and I focused my vision on my coffee, taking sips. "I'm trying not to say words that'll make you close up because every time you acknowledge me, I feel hope start up in my heart again."

"Being here..." I licked my suddenly dry lips and took a deep breath. "Being here made me realize how much I've missed, but I also realized how much I wanted you to be my mom. You pay attention and acknowledge everything your kids do, and all I've ever wanted was attention from my parents. I had gotten it before when I was younger but when I started to find myself, they pulled away. But you.... You don't, you never have. And I want that."

"Then allow me to give that to you." She practically begs. "You've always had a part of my heart, wherever you were and wherever you went, I always loved you. Even seeing you lash out at me, it hurts but that's who you are and I love when you express emotions- even if its negative."

"I don't know how to let you in, Patricia." I say, turning my back to her and taking in deep breaths. "I don't know how to forgive you."

"I'm not asking for your forgiveness, because maybe that'll come in time- when you're ready. But what I am asking for is for you to allow me to love you the way I have been from afar, but up close."

"How would you show me?"

"I would sacrifice my life to show you."

My blue eyes lock on her brown ones, our gazes holding until I clear my throat and walk around the center island to wash out my now empty cup in the sink, the thick glass that made up the cup was still warm. I clear off the counters, putting everything back where I found it and grabbed a clean rag to wipe up the already clean surface, but a hand was felt on my shoulder.

"Thank you for the coffee. And thank you for speaking to me. Good night, Marley." Patricia's footsteps were heard walking away from me before she disappeared up the stairs.

I hung the towel over the sink and leaned against it. Wether or not I can fall asleep after the conversations between my two mothers, I think I'll just wait in my room until I can't think anymore.

I walked up the stairs after switching off all the lights that I had turned on. My fingers absentmindedly glided over the same picture that had me stumped. And when I reached the room I was staying in, the feeling of being alone was over powering.

I know that I wasn't alone in the house, but I felt alone in the room of my mind. Technically I was, but I didn't want to be. I wanted Zayn to listen and give me brotherly advice and repeatedly assure me that I'm loved despite all that I've done or said.

I wanted Edward to tell me how much he's missed me and how much he's achieved with Donnie, but still wants me to come back. I want him to comfort me in ways that words can't, by holding me the way he did in my room the day that I left Florida.

I held on to my locket as I plopped my body down on the bed, pulling the covers over myself.

I wanted Donnie. I wanted him here with me because whenever I was going through anything, it was like he was listening and I felt as if he would make a noise relating to the situation or what my emotions are giving off.

I wanted to be angry and I wanted to be sad. I'm just sick of doing it alone. I don't want to close myself up, but how do I stay open to everyone when I'm in a place that's still so foreign to me?

I sat up and grabbed a pillow from where I had laid, pulling off the covers from the bed. I make my way back down the stairs. The blanket was too long to not drag on the ground, but I tried my best to hold it all up.

I laid my pillow beside the couch that Zayn lounged on and I dropped down to my hands and knees until I comfortably crawled around to align my body with the couch and laid my head down on the pillow. I pulled the blanket up to my chin, facing the way of Zayn. And with the sound of his soft snores and calm breathing, I quickly fell asleep.