The Sky We Seek (Love and Other Dreams #2)

Chapter 41

Elina

For the last three hundred yards from the subway station to the prefab building where my parents' apartment is located, I ran. Yet I still sprint up the stairs to the second floor. Because what I have to tell them cannot wait.

I won't take my new job. That dream was an illusion. Just as deceivingly real as the one my parents have been chasing for far too long.

Breathless, I press my index finger on the doorbell and don't let go until my mother opens the door.

"Elina?" Deep furrows form on her already wrinkled forehead. "This is a bad time. Aaron..."

Of course. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron. It's always about him. "Don't worry, I won't take long." Without waiting for her reaction, I enter the apartment. I rush down the narrow hallway. "Is Dad here?"

"He's out searching for..."

"Aaron," I finish her sentence because neither she nor my father have ever done anything else. "What's it about this time?"

With an exhausted sigh, my mother brushes her gray-streaked hair away from her face. "He escaped from rehab." She signals for me to follow her into the dimly furnished living room. "I need to stay here in case he shows up. "

Inside, I feel the urge to comfort her. I could postpone my mission. It's not the right time. "Should I make you some tea?" I promptly ask. "Or are you hungry?"

There she is again. The dutiful daughter I've been my whole life.

Tears well up in her eyes as she sinks onto the sofa's protective cover. "He's probably in a park, doing his disgusting drugs."

It's as if she didn't hear me at all. As if I'm not even here. Of course, I understand her pain. That's always been the case, and today is no different.

But her reaction also shows me that it's probably really time to come clean.

I have to do it. Now or never. But what if she loves me even less afterward? Can I risk that?

My throat feels tight, and my breath is strained. I was so sure earlier, but now I feel that familiar fear creeping in.

"What more can you do?" I say cautiously. For the first time ever, I dare to criticize my mother, even if only softly. "You've tried everything. Aaron has dictated your lives since forever. He decides how you feel. Whether you can sleep, whether you laugh or cry."

Where is this going to lead us?

This is not the first time I've asked myself this question. But for the first time, I have an answer to it.

With their behavior, my parents haven't accomplished anything with Aaron. But it has left deep scars on me that they don't even notice.

My gaze falls on my mother, who sits on the sofa with a saddened expression and drooping corners of her mouth. "He's still our child. "

"Just like me." Those are the words I've forcefully swallowed since I can remember. Because they shouldn't be said. They are too selfish. Yet I can no longer suppress them. Because if Noah has shown me anything, it's that I am also worthy of being seen and loved. Without having to achieve something extraordinary.

"We're grateful to have you," my mother responds absentmindedly but doesn't even look at me. "But Aaron—"

"To hell with Aaron." I interrupt her angrily, barely recognizing myself at that moment. It's as if something is breaking free from within me, something that has always been there. Behind a wall I built with my own willpower. Noah tore it down. And that's a good thing. "He's a damn junkie who doesn't give a damn about what he's doing to you."

My God, did I really just say that?

Suddenly, I have my mother's full attention. She stares at me in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

She's never heard that tone from me. Because I've always kept my mouth shut so as not to cause them even more grief.

So they would love me.

But all I achieved was them caring even less about me.

"We have to fight for him," she reminds me in a harsh tone. Her fingers clench in her stretched-out jogging pants.

"Of course, we have to. But not at any cost," I retort although I can already guess she doesn't grasp the full weight of my words. "And certainly not with pressure."

To fight for something is important. And good. We shouldn't give up, no matter what our dreams are. But one thing should always be clear: Anyone who believes they can force someone else to make a fundamental change cannot win. And at worst, they might even lose something because of it.

Like my parents lost me.

My mother vehemently shakes her head. "We can't just leave him to his fate."

"You managed to do that with me just fine." I don't want to sound so bitter, but it happens.

Her tough expression fades away, leaving behind a look of disbelief. "How could you..."

Seeing her like this hurts my chest. Yet I straighten up and gaze at her intensely. "I was constantly on my own, and even when I achieved great things, you only gave me a millisecond of your attention."

She vehemently shakes her head. "That's not true."

But it is true. "Why can't you see it?" My voice almost breaks. Her blindness hurts me so much.

Her only reaction is a strained snort.

"What's my best friend's name?" I raise my eyebrows invitingly. Then I brush aside my T-shirt collar and expose my collarbone. "Where did I get this scar from?" While my mother squints and notices the faint white line, I swallow hard. Because that's far from everything. "What's my favorite hobby? What's the name of my first crush? What's my favorite food, and what music do I enjoy?" It all spills out of me.

A silent tear escapes from the corner of her eye, and she swallows hard. Because she realizes that she doesn't know the answers to all these questions and many more.

I point my finger at myself. "And who am I, actually? What are my dreams, what values do I live by?" Suddenly, all the turmoil within me fades away. Because it seems like all the muscles in my mother's body are giving way at once.

She begins to understand, helplessness etched on her face.

"Shouldn't you love me just because I'm me?" I add with a voice choked with tears.

With a loud sob, my mother covers her mouth with her hands. Her forehead creased deeply, she stands up from the sofa, approaches me, and embraces me.

She doesn't say a word, only gently strokes my back.

I remain silent too. Because I have nothing else to say. My spell is finally broken. I have exposed the greatest illusion of my life, and I owe it all to Noah.

My Noah, who until just under a year ago led a happy and fulfilling life. The man who, unlike my brother, doesn't need to change fundamentally because he has always been amazing in his own way and always will be.

He needs help to shed the dark shadow that obscures it all. And I will give it to him. Along with all the time he needs.

No pressure. Just love.

My mother's whole body trembles, and she sniffles incessantly. "My daughter," she stammers with a choked voice. "You're my daughter, and I love you more than anything."

That's all I ever wanted to hear from her my whole life.

"I'm so sorry." She gently rocks me back and forth. "Please forgive me. "

I swallow hard and can no longer hold back my own tears. "Everything is fine," I say then because I realize that she didn't do it intentionally. We were all trapped in Aaron's web, playing our roles and taking the wrong paths for the right reasons.

"Thank you." She speaks so softly that I can barely hear her. "Thank you for becoming such a wonderful person despite our mistakes."

I feel her love for me even without her having to say it.

I know this feeling. It's exactly what Noah made me feel.

Suddenly, everything is so clear. I know what to do next.

With a heavy heart, I let go of my mother and take a step back. "I have to go, Mom. There's something urgent I need to take care of." Something that is as important as nothing ever before in my life.