I crash into his chest like a wrecking ball ramming into a brick shithouse. He lets out anoof, wrapping his arms around me, and I wind myself around his waist. “I just don’t know how they’re going to react, and I’m soovercrying.”
He presses a kiss to the top of my head, rubbing his hands down my back. “If you cry, you cry. There’s no use worrying about it now. They’re almost here, and youhaveto have this discussion.”
“Wow, incredible pep talk. You should throw your hat in the ring for team captain,” I mock, and he flicks my temple.
“Such a brat,” he teases, his eyes softening as he searches my face. “Do you want me here for this conversation?”
“Please stay,” I beg, and this time, it’s not to use him as a buffer so much as because I want him with me. He gives me comfort that no one else ever has.
He makes me stronger.
“Whatever you need,” he assures me.
Time passes at a snail’s pace until they arrive, exiting the elevator, with Elijah carrying their bags. It’s been a couple of minutes, just long enough for me to pull myself together, more than enough time for Elijah to charm the pants off my parents.
I open the door wide, my heart tearing straight from my chest at the sight of them. Mummy’s deep brown eyes, dimpled cheeks, and colourful clothing warm the coldest parts of me. I rush to her. My sinuses burn, and heat pricks the backs of my eyes as I bow to touch her feet, then do the same to Papa. Mummy palms the back of my head, drawing me close for a hug that glues my broken pieces together.
“Chiki,” she whispers, “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too, Mummy.” I force myself to pull out of her grasp, giving her a tight smile as her searching gaze tears through any shred of pretence that everything is okay.
“You look?—”
Papa cuts her off, shooting her a glance as he opens his arms wide for me. “Oh,maari laali. My turn now!”
I rest my cheek against Papa’s heart, allowing the strong, steady rhythm to calm me.Even if I’m not okay, they are safe and healthy, and that isallthat matters.
“Should we head inside?” Elijah asks once I’ve ended the hug, more than aware that a part of me is holding onto a moment in time when they didn’t know I was sick, when they wouldn’t see me as this broken person I’ve become. And likely for the last time.
I don’t miss the way their nervous gazes flit between one another, murmuring under their breath as I stall for as long as possible. I busy myself getting them comfortable in my room, rushing around with waters and offerings of snacks Elijah had made, even going so far as to drag them out onto the balcony to take in the sunset. But the time has come, and my well of excuses has run dry.
“Beta, can you please quit trying to distract us and put us out of our misery?”She doesn’t realise my confession will garner more torment.“Tell us what’s got you so upset,” Mummy says, taking a seat on the sofa beside Papa and sipping her tea.
I swallow down the lump in my throat, plucking a cushion from the sofa and taking a seat between them. Elijah follows my lead but maintains a respectful distance.
I nod, averting my gaze and fighting the urge to collapse in fear. When I glance up and meet Papa’s warm-brown eyes, the edges wrinkled in concern, the dam bursts. I begin relaying everything that led us here, from the symptoms that drove me to seek medical attention in the first place to the real reason I moved, the treatments, when I’d planned to tell them but decided against it after receiving less-than-reassuring news, and everything in between. With each admission that passes my lips, the acrid taste in my mouth grows.
“I wanted to tell you after everything was done, but then I still wasn’t better.” My cuticles are shredded, much the same way Mummy’s heart must be. Her mask breaks, heartache and anger flickering across her expression, and worst of all, she won’t meet my eyes. I look to Papa, his cheeks puffy and tear-stained, a stony expression falling over him, and I struggle not to rebuild all the walls Elijah’s taught me to lower. His hand slides to my hip, giving me a tight squeeze.
Mummy stands, pressing her palms down her red-and-yellowkurti, head held high. “I need a moment,” she says, tearing off towards my room, my father hurrying after her.
The door shuts with a firm thud, and rather than crawling back into myself, I dissolve into a puddle of anguish in Elijah’s arms. A sob tears free of my throat—anger at myself for keeping this from them so long—and a deep need for them to justlovemethe way I need presses into me.
“You’re going to be okay,” he murmurs, running a hand over my head. “They just need some time. They haven’t given up on you; they’re just processing.”
I latch onto his words, praying they’ll be enough to lead me out of the dark when all is said and done. I’ve been through too much, lost too many pieces of myself, to get this far and crash out now.
He holds me, peppering the crown of my head with soft kisses, pulling me into his lap when my body goes limp, and numbness settles over me.
I don’t know how much time passes before the softsnickof the door alerts us to their presence, my parents returning to their seats in front of me.
Mummy reaches out for me. “Come here,chiki,” she whispers, her voice thick with tears.
Elijah manoeuvres around the tight space, sitting on the floor beneath me. I cross my legs, giving him more room without myfeet dangling in the way, thankful that he still hasn’t left me, no matter how uncomfortable this conversation must be for him.
He reaches for my hand, twining it with his as he presses his cheek to my knee, the small gesture providing a comfort I might never be capable of putting into words. None would suffice.
“We—” Mummy starts, bowing her head.
