"What are you doing here, Sarah?" I asked her. I haven't called the woman mother in years.
"I just thought I'd bring you some of these pretty Azaleas from my garden. I grew them myself, you know. I remember these used to be a favorite of yours."
I gazed out of the window. The sun was setting, and its beauty should bring me a semblance of joy, but it didn't. Instead, I felt like it mocked me. I was stuck here watching it come and go, day after day, held hostage within myself.
“How did therapy go?”
I didn’t answer her. I kept staring outside.
“Tara, talk to me, please, let me know what I can do? I could move you to a private room or another facility, you just have to say the word.”
“Nothing, there is nothing you can do that you have not already done. I don’t want you here,”
"I am your mother," she looked defeated. "I want to be here to take care of you."
"Oh, really? You are? Where have you been all these years then? I'll tell you where you should be, living a perfect life with your perfect family. There was never a place for me in it, and now you're here because you feel guilty. Because you want to redeem yourself for being an incompetent, selfish bitch who neglected her daughter."
She looked taken aback as she glanced around at the other ladies in my room, her eyes teary and her smile waning.
“I – I’m sorry I haven’t been the mother you needed, Tara, but I am trying.”
"Oh just fuck off, Sarah," I hissed.
"I wish I could have done things differently," she whispered, her eyes downcast.
For many years,I wanted that too.
"Well, it's a bit too late for that," I told her.
With that she gathered her coat and with one final glance back at me, she left the room. Constance met my gaze, and for a moment, I knew she understood me. Martha May, and Tessa pretended to be engrossed in a conversation aboutChippendales. I sighed. Sarah always brought out the worst in me.
Where was she when I needed her all those years ago?
Everywhere but with me.
Chapter 4
Tara
Ten-years old
"Welcome to your new home, Tara," Marcus Hale said, bowing down to my height. He was a tall man, much taller than my dad. His dark, brown hair and hard, brown eyes gave him a severe appearance. He offered me a smile, but it never reached his eyes. It was false and forced. I shouldn't compare him to my father, they were completely different people, yet, I did.
I couldn't believe it. My father had not even been dead a year, and Sarah had already moved us out of our home. She'd sold everything we owned, everything I held dear. She said she didn't need the reminders, so all that remained from our life before were the few essential items I kept in my backpack, some pictures from when I was younger, my father's watch, his ring, and a few jewelry items they'd gifted to me on my last birthday.
I held on to my backpack, staring up at my mother. Today she wore a floral dress and heels. She never wore clothes like that at home, she was always in jeans and a t-shirt. She had also insisted that my long, brown hair be tied in a sleek ponytail like hers. I got a whole makeover. Looking in the mirror before we left, I really looked like her mini-me. We even had the same caramel eyes.
I didn't understand the logic of a new wardrobe and new things. What was wrong with the stuff we had? But instead of listening to a word I said, she arranged a yard sale, and I watched from my bedroom window as our “old life”, as she called it, dissipated.
"Say hello, dear," she glowered at me. I had been warned to be on my best behavior.
“This is your new family now, and you better get used to it,” she’d hissed on our drive here.
“Hi,” I managed, giving him a small wave.
He smiled at me, rigidly again. "It's so good to have you here. Why don't we head upstairs, so I can show you to your room?"
I nodded and followed him as he made his way up the long, winding staircase. The house was massive and looked like something out of a movie. Our entire house could fit into the entry hall alone. There must be tons of rooms in here. It was all decorated pretty, and nothing seemed out of place. Our house was always tidy, but there was something about this one that was different. It was immaculate like nobody lived here at all.
