Chapter 116: Iris: Reality
I tried to be strong in front of Sam and my mom, but after an intense silence, I gave in to my instincts and asked Mom to co with
upstairs for the conversation. I can’t be having him listen to
and my mom and talk about my asshole of a father, that might degrade my mother.
My room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the lamp casting shadows across the walls. I sit curled up on the small couch at the foot of my bed, a blanket draped over my legs, feeling a mix of apprehension and anticipation. I can sense the weight of my mother’s unsaid words before she even speaks them.
"Iris," she begins, her voice steady but tinged with emotion, "there’s sothing we need to discuss about your father."
Like you didn’t already say that in front of Sam woman!
My heart races. I’ve been avoiding this conversation ever since my father ruined my childhood. I don’t even rember his face anymore. That’s how hard I was trying to avoid anything that had sothing to do with him, but seeing as Mom had to ask
to speak with her in front of Sam, I guess this is a Chapter of her life she needs to be closed before starting a new one.
The mories of my past haunt , and the thought of reopening old wounds terrifies . "Okay," I reply cautiously, bracing myself for whatever truth lies ahead.
She takes a deep breath, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "I know you have a lot of questions about him. I want to be honest with you, especially now that you’re older and might run into him," she says the last part slowly, letting it sink in as though what she just said might happen as we speak.
Her ntioning that I’m older makes my heart flutter with a mix of excitent and fear. I can make my own choices now, but I don’t know about the ones that affect my relationship with Dad. I might have to listen to whatever Mom has to say about him so I can build on what I already know.
Who knows, maybe my trauma can finally be fixed once I hear their side of the story. "I appreciate that, Mom. I just also want to understand why he did what he did when I was a kid," I surprise the both of us with my honest reply.
Lucas might have to wait a little bit longer before I visit him.
Once her shock settles, Mom nods, her gaze drifting to the window as if searching for the right words. "When your father and I split up, it was... complicated. He was not the sa man you rember from your childhood. There were things happening that I didn’t fully understand at the ti."
I swallow hard, my mind racing back to the nights after the breakup. I rember the new house we moved to, the unfamiliar creaks and sounds that amplify my fears. I was so young, only eight years old, and the dark felt like an enemy.
"Mom, I rember when he would co at night," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I would hear the knocking, and I thought it was a thief. I was so scared." Fuck I’m being a little too honest with her tonight.
Her expression softens, and I see the pain reflected in her eyes. She moves from the bed and sits next to , sothing I’ve yearned to do with my mother for years now. "I tried to protect you from him, but it was hard. Your father would co to see us, and it wasn’t always safe since I had to work night shifts back then."
I feel the tightness in my chest as the mories flood back. I rember those nights vividly—the way the darkness enveloped our new ho, how I would lie in bed, clutching my blanket, listening to the sound of his footsteps outside. I would hear the soft knocks on the door, followed by silence, then his deep voice asking
to co out so he could take
away. My heart would race, and I would hide under the covers, convinced that a thief was trying to break in.
"Sotis, I would cry," I admit, my voice trembling. "I thought he was going to hurt ."
My mom reaches out, placing her hand on mine. "Iris, I’m so sorry you had to go through that. It was never my intention for you to feel unsafe. Your father’s behavior was unpredictable, and I didn’t know how to protect you."
"I rember that one night in particular," I continue, the mories flooding back with vivid clarity. "When he fought with our neighbors. I was so scared."
"Those nights were difficult for both of us," she says softly. "Your father would co over, and I never knew what to expect. He would be angry, sotis desperate. I didn’t want you to see that side of him. I thought if I kept you away from it, you would be safe."
Tears pool in my eyes as I recall the fear that settled in my heart. "It gave
nyctophobia, Mom. I’m still scared of him and the dark to this day."
"I know, sweetheart," she says, her voice thick with emotion. "I can’t express how sorry I am for the way things unfolded. I thought moving you away to your grandparent’s house would help you escape the chaos, but I didn’t realize the impact it would have on you."
I close my eyes, letting the mories wash over . I am eight years old again, lying in bed, the darkness feeling suffocating. I can hear the faint sound of my father’s voice outside, slurring and angry. I press my face into the pillow, trying to drown out the fear that claws at my insides.
"Mom, there were nights when I thought he was going to break down the door," I confess, my voice shaking. "I was terrified."
"I wish I could go back and change things," she says, her eyes glistening with tears. "I thought I could shield you from it all, but I see now how wrong I was. I should have been more honest with you about what was happening."
The weight of her words hangs in the air, and I feel a surge of mixed emotions—hurt, anger, and a strange sense of understanding. "What was he like after you two split up? Why did he act the way he did?"
My mom takes a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. "Your father struggled with his own demons. After our breakup, he fell into a dark place. He wasn’t himself anymore. The drinking and anger took hold of him, and I didn’t want you to witness that."
I feel a knot tighten in my stomach. "But he didn’t just stop by to see , did he? He ca to confront you."
"Yes," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I could keep you safe by not letting him in, but I didn’t realize how much you were affected by the fear. I should have protected you better."
Tears stream down my cheeks as I process everything. "You did your best, Mom. But it still hurt. Even now, I feel that fear creeping back whenever I think about him."
"I know," she says gently, squeezing my hand. "I’m here to support you, and I want you to feel safe. You deserve to have a future free from that fear."
As I look into her eyes, I see the love and regret reflected back at . "I want to understand him, but I’m scared. What if he hasn’t changed? What if he brings that chaos back into our lives?"
"Then you set boundaries," she says firmly. "You don’t have to let him back in if you don’t feel comfortable. Your safety and happiness co first."
I take a deep breath, the weight of her words sinking in. "I know I need to confront him eventually, but I don’t know if I’m ready."
The conversation lingers in the air, heavy with unspoken fears and hopes. I feel a flicker of fear within
when she remains silent, but I brush the feeling away, not about to ruin the lovely mont we just shared.
"Thank you for being honest with , Mom," I say finally, wiping away my tears. "It ans a lot to hear the truth."
But she doesn’t answer.
As we sit together in the dim light, I feel myself recoil in my blanket. Why isn’t she talking all of a sudden when she was being all motherly and lovely a while ago? Is she suddenly ignoring
because she realized she was being a mother for once in her life, or is she doing so because she has another secret up her sleeve?
"Mom? Can you hear ?"
As if she just snapped from a dream, she flinches when I call her na, her eyes dropping once our eyes make contact.
"I have another thing that I need to tell you, Iris."
So she had another secret after all.
"Ask away Mom," I reply instantly, hoping it’s another apology for the shitty life she let
lead with her insufferable attitude. How wrong I am.
"Your dad...Sam..."
"What?" I scrunch my brows.
Mom clears her throat, avoiding eye contact and holding my hands instead. "I said Sam is your dad. He is your father."
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