Chapter 115: Iris: Unravelling shadows
I stand there, frozen in surprise, as my mom and the envelope stranger enter my apartnt. The familiarity of my mom’s face comforts , but the stranger’s presence is a jarring note in the symphony of our reunion. I watch her eyes scan the room, taking in the cleanliness and empty house that define my life.
A piece of
is happy my Grandparents aren’t ho right now. I just know it would have been a showdown the mont Mom ca with the envelope guy. They seed pretty shaken the last ti he ca. Maybe he has so history with my mother because my grandparents seed to know who he was just by seeing his signature.
I’m assuming ex-boyfriend?
"Hey, kiddo," Mom says, her voice softening as she surveys the state of my apartnt. "You’ve got a bit of a ss on your hands here," she points at the kitchen where I tried to prepare noodles for myself a while ago but ended up losing all my appetite and left them there.
I laugh awkwardly, feeling self-conscious. Her acting like we are close is weird, but I don’t want to embarrass her in front of her ex—thanks to my quick intuition I figured it out in seconds—so I play along. "Yeah, I’ve been aning to clean up. It’s just been a busy few weeks."
Very busy. And that’s why I need you gone quickly so I can attend to the most important topic of the night without wasting any more ti thank you.
My mom nods her expression a mix of concern and criticism. "You always were a bit of a free spirit, Iris. Never one for routine or structure."
I flinch as a familiar defensiveness rises in . "Mom, let’s not get into this again, okay?"
Her eyes flash with a hint of hurt, but she lets it drop. "Okay, sweetie. I just want to catch up with you."
Cringe. Who is she calling sweetie? I’ve never had her call
that...unless she wants sothing that is. Wait. Is she here because she wants to ask for a favor? Maybe for a place to stay for the night with her man before they leave with our property tomorrow morning?
Fuck I can’t stop my brain from cooking up all the worst-case scenarios.
"Your parents left a while ago if that’s why you’re here," I tell her when she keeps flipping her head back and forth as if she’s expecting them to co out of their bedroom and charge at her. Grandpa in particular. I’m sure as hell mom and her guest would already be driving back to wherever they ca from if he was here.
Grandma would be the one who would have stopped him from going god mode on the couple. Thank goodness Grandpa found himself a dopamine kind of a woman, otherwise if he married soone as fiery as him, I don’t think their daughter would still be alive by now considering all the things she has done to them over the years.
"Were have they gone?" Mom asks, letting out a breath as if knowing her parents aren’t ho is the best thing for her right now.
"Holiday," I reply handing her a bowl of ice cream. I know it’s a bit cold but I don’t want to cook right now, and I don’t have the ti to be cooking when I have to leave. Lucas deserves to hear my apology tonight, and nothing is going to stop
from apologizing, not even my mother and her stranger.
"So I can’t be of assistance to you guys if you need sothing big or that is under their na."
Mom chuckles. "Don’t worry, we didn’t co here for that," she says flickering a hand at
and gesturing for
to sit. I do as I’m told, and Mom begins small talk.
As we chat, the conversation feels stilted, like we’re dancing around each other’s emotions. The stranger, who hasn’t uttered a word since they ca in and whom I’m starting to believe is mute obviously remains silent, his grey eyes watching us with an intensity that makes
uncomfortable.
"So, who’s this?" I ask, trying to break the tension his eyes are adding to the room.
"Oh, this is Sam," my mom says, her voice a bit too bright. "He’s a...friend."
I raise an eyebrow, skeptical. "Just a friend?"
Her expression turns guarded, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. "Yes, just a friend. We’ve been spending so ti together lately."
I choose to let her go for a mont, deciding to strike her with the questions later after she’s let her guard down once again. I can’t shake the sense that there’s sothing more to this visit, sothing my mom isn’t quite ready to reveal. Is she finally ready to take her relationships seriously now?
As the night wears on, the tension between us thickens, like a fog that refuses to lift. I know our past will always be complicated, a web of emotions and unresolved issues that we’ll never fully untangle. But for now, I play along, pretending this visit is just a casual drop-by, besides, I can’t be embarrassing her like that.
Deep down, I know better. There’s sothing more to this, sothing that will reveal itself in ti. And I’m not sure if Mom is ready to say it.
The conversation flows with an ease I hadn’t expected. We talk about mundane things—work, the weather, even a new restaurant that just opened downtown. For a mont, it feels like the years of tension lted away. I find myself laughing at my mother’s stories, my laughter echoing in the living room, filling the air with warmth.
It’s a strange feeling, this lightness as if we’re stepping back in ti to a happier place. Sam sits quietly, observing the exchange. His presence acts as a silent anchor, and though he doesn’t speak, his attentive gaze pulls my focus to him. I steal glances at him, intrigued by his calm deanor amidst the emotional storm brewing between my mother and .
He’s actually scoring points with
for that, points that soon go downhill when my mother ruins my internal monologue with a much weirder talk.
"I’ve missed you," my mother says suddenly, the lightness in her voice fading. The warmth evaporates, replaced by a weight I can feel in my chest. "I know we’ve had our differences, but I want you to know I’m here because I care about you."
A lump forms in my throat, and I struggle to keep my voice steady. It’s her charm, it’s working on
again even though I tried a million tis to convince myself that she’s the villain here.. "I... I’ve missed you too, Mom. It’s just been hard," I admit, the weight of our past spilling into my words. "I want to understand, but it feels like we’re always fighting."
I see her eyes glisten in the dim light, reflecting the pain of our history. She sighs, and I sense the depth of her emotions. "I know. I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about how we communicate. I want to change that." The conversation shifts, taking on a serious tone, and I feel the familiar tension creeping back in, like an unwelco visitor.
"What do you an?" I ask, my heartbeat quickening, echoing the unease in the room. My mother opens her mouth as if to speak but pauses, glancing at Sam. He remains silent, his expression inscrutable. I wish I could read his thoughts; perhaps he knows sothing I don’t. The air feels thick, charged with unspoken words and emotions.
"Iris, there’s sothing important I need to tell you," she says, her voice steady now, yet laced with urgency. "It’s about our family... about your father." My heart races at the ntion of him, a topic we’ve skirted around for as long as I can rember. A chill runs through , and I feel the walls of the apartnt close in.
"What about him?" I whisper, almost afraid of the answer. My mother takes a deep breath, her gaze unwavering, as if she is preparing to reveal sothing monuntal, sothing that could shift the very foundation of our relationship.
The air thickens with anticipation, and the shadows around us seem to deepen, amplifying the weight of her words. "I don’t know how to say this, but..." she begins, her voice trailing off as if she’s searching for the right way to articulate the truth. I lean forward, every nerve in my body alert, waiting for the revelation that hangs just beyond the threshold of understanding.
"Iris, you deserve to know the truth about your father." The room falls silent, the gravity of her statent settling like a dark cloud. My heart thuds loudly in my chest, the world around
narrowing to this mont. The promise of revelation shimrs just out of reach, tantalizing yet terrifying.
I look at Sam, whose eyes flicker with a mix of concern and sothing else—sothing that feels like a warning. "What truth?" I ask, my voice trembling as I brace myself for whatever is about to unfold. I can sense the stakes rising, the air electric with unspoken fears and hopes.
In that charged mont, the weight of the past collides with the uncertainty of the future, leaving
teetering on the edge of a revelation that could shatter everything I thought I knew. My mind races with questions, each one more daunting than the last. What could she possibly say that would change my understanding of my father? What secrets have lingered in the shadows all these years?
I feel my breath catch in my throat as I await her response, the silence stretching between us like a taut string ready to snap. This is the mont I’ve both dreaded and longed for. Whatever truth she holds could finally illuminate the dark corners of my childhood and the mysteries of my family, and I am ready—or at least I think I am.
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