When an old wound gets reopened, it's tempting to think nothing has changed. But the way you deal with it gives you an opportunity to appreciate how much you've grown. - Unknown
As the throbbing pain in my lip began to subside, I couldn't help but marvel at the peculiar turn of events that led me to seek solace in a pint of double chocolate brownie ice cream. It was an unusual choice, I admit, but one that seemed oddly fitting at the time.
Jon stood by my side as we found ourselves at my mother's bakery. The sweet aroma of freshly baked goods enveloped us, offering a sense of comfort amidst the chaos of the day.
My mother's concern was palpable as she gazed at me with furrowed brows, her maternal instincts kicking into overdrive. "What can I do to make you feel better?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.
Without hesitation, I requested a generous serving of her renowned double chocolate brownie ice cream. It was a treat like no other – rich, decadent, and utterly indulgent. A remedy for both body and soul.
As Jon opted for his favorite peanut butter brownie chunk ice cream, I resisted the urge to steal a bite. We had made a pact not to share food this time around; my swollen lip served as a stark reminder of our unspoken agreement.
With each spoonful of creamy goodness melting on my tongue, the pain slowly ebbed away, replaced by a sense of contentment and relief. The world seemed brighter somehow, more bearable in the presence of such simple pleasures.
And so we sat there in silence, savoring every last drop of ice cream as if it were our last meal on earth. The taste lingered on our lips long after we had finished our treats – a bittersweet reminder of moments shared and memories made.
"Do you wanna talk about your parents now?" I finally asked him, breaking the silence that hung between us like a thick fog. He nodded slowly, his eyes clouded with a mix of sadness and confusion.
"Remember how I said when I went to get some clothes, I overheard yelling coming from their room?" I nodded in response, urging him to continue. "Which is normal. They're always fighting," Jon continued. "But this time I heard some of what they said."
It wasn't uncommon for Jon to seek refuge at my house whenever his parents' arguments reached unbearable levels.
My mom would make us freshly baked cookies, oatmeal peanut butter chocolate chunk and white chocolate macadamia. Our favourites.
Then she would set us in front of the TV, and increase the volume to drown out the shouting.
Eventually, this became normal.
"What did you hear?" I prompted gently.Jon took a deep breath before speaking again. "What little I could make out... I could swear, it sounded like they were arguing about moving."
"Moving?" My voice rose in surprise. "But you can't leave... here."
What I really wanted to say was, that he couldn't leave me.
Jon reached out and grasped my hand firmly. "I would never leave you," he reassured me, his gaze unwavering. "You know that, right?" I felt a lump form in my throat as his words sank in.
We had always been each other's constant in a world filled with uncertainties.
As we discussed the possibility of his parents leaving Willow Creek, our hometown and safe haven for as long as we could remember, Jon revealed more details of their heated conversation.
"My mom said she wanted to go back," Jon explained, furrowing his brow in confusion. "Go back where, I'm not sure. And then my dad mentioned something about 'him.'"
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The Vanishing Girls Of Willow Creek (Willow Creek, #1)
Mystery / Thriller*Editing* In the small town of Willow Creek, nestled among the rolling hills and whispering trees, lies a dark secret that has haunted its residents for generations. Over the years, more than a hundred young women and girls have vanished without a t...
