I almost laugh, but I have a single edge here, and it’s my calm demeanor. So I intend to keep it.
“I’m very calm, Aunt Jo.”
Mom, seemingly recovered from the shock of hearing me defy her, stands tall as well, starting to wildly gesticulate towards my sobbing wife.
My Rachel.
“She’s scaring me,” she whimpers. “Karan, make her calm down; I was only trying to get her to talk things through. She wants to leave with the boys!”
“Then there must have been a reason.”
I walk past my mother and crouch down to Rachel, who’s now rocking back and forth. My heart cracks in my chest as I cradle her in my arms and stand back up.
I don’t know what happened while I was out, but if there’s one mistake I’m not going to commit ever again, it’s to mistrust my wife. If she reacted in this way and was about to take the boys away, it can’t only be to hurt me.
She wouldn’t.
Something happened here.
Mom backs away into my father’s arms. My father, despite him being shorter than me, somehow looksdownat me, one arm crossed, the other wrapping around my mother’s back.
Any other day, that look would have made me cower in fear.
But not today.
I’m safe. I have to make Rachel safe. I have to make my sons safe.
“Maybe I should leave,” Mom says with a trembling jaw. “Give you some space. You can’t just leave on New Year’s Eve like this. I’ll go out for a few hours, then come back when her hissy fit is over.”
The blatant disrespect pricks like a thousand thorns in my back, rage spiking in my blood.
Rage and shame.
Rage at the people I’ve obeyed with little question my whole life. Shame that I’m only opening my eyes to the truth now.
“No. You stay here, Mom. You stay right the fuck here, and we’re leaving.”
“Karan,” Dad says, shock cutting through the disappointment in his eyes.
I ignore him and walk past everyone, heading upstairs to find my sons, clutching Rachel tightly to my chest all the while.
She’s gripping the fabric of my shirt, fisting it for it dear life. I don’t care that she walked out barely an hour ago. I don’t care if she seemingly gave up on us.
I haven’t given up onher.
She’s it for me. She always has been.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper to her when I reach the top of the stairs, my words causing her to bury her head deeper into my chest as the sobs continue to rack through her.
I open door after door without discrimination until I find both Cayce and Corey, sitting in almost the same position, but in different rooms. Both have their knees to their noses with their arms wrapped around their legs, eyes red and puffy from obvious tears.
What have they done to us?
I set Rachel down on a bed, not caring whose it is, and stroke her hair. I try to look into her eyes, but though the sobs have slowed down, her gaze is vacant.
“I’m coming right back for you. I’m bringing the boys in the car. Don’t move, okay? It’s going to be okay.”
She doesn’t react to my words, but I trust that she will be all right while I pick up Cayce from this room and head to the room across the hall to get Corey.
