The round balloon I was floating on pops. I'm unsure which one he’s referring to.
“I love all my kids.” he finally says when I don’t answer, returning his gaze to his food, but now, he’s just twirling the food on his fork over and over instead of eating it.
“I know I fucked up in a lot of ways. And this whole wish thing you and Blake had going, it was powerful. But there’s something more powerful than an unanswered wish.”
“Yeah? And what’s that? I ask him as I chew slowly.
“Regret. At least with wishes, you hope it will come true, but with regret, there’s no more hope.”
I couldn’t help but think of a quote by Taylor Swift when I was watching her perform on television.
“Everyone of my regrets has produced a song I’m proud of.”
And something told me Toxic Wishes would be the same way.
48
Abigail
“Once again, she was free. Once again, she found peace. It was music that freed her soul from the dungeon of her mind.” ? Wiss Auguste, The Illusions of Hope
When I pulled up at my sister's house, I was exhausted. Cliff and I talked for hours before we realized we were doing more talking than recording, so we called it a night. I had to get to bed soon anyway since I had school the following day and couldn’t function when my brain was tired. I learned that about myself. I needed at least 6 hours of sleep to concentrate all day.
I opened the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake Aria. I slowly close the door behind me. I turn around and freeze. I blinked a few times, making sure what I was seeing was real.
“Hi, sweet pea.”
I cringe at my mother’s words. She hasn’t called me that since I was a little girl.
“Hi,” I sense my shortness, but she hasn’t called to check on me or even care to know if I was alive or dead after Colt and I left her house.
“What are you doing here?”
My sister walks into the room with a bottle and a mug, handing the mug to my mom.
She then turns to me and walks in my direction.“She wanted to talk to you.”
I stare at my sister.
“I told her it’s too soon, but it may be a good thing.” She leans in closer and whispers, “Just talk to her, Abigail. Give her a chance. She is still your mom.”
I take a deep breath before letting my sister's words sink in, settling to my core. I nod as I look down at my shoes, and she squeezes my shoulder before walking off.
My mom is staring back at me when I look up.
“Oh sweetie, I'm s-”
I held up a hand. “Don’t. Don’t you dare try and act like you’re sorry? If I never found that birth certificate, I would be going about life still thinking Micheal was my biological father. And still wondering why my father acts like he despises me from the mere mention of my name, and now I know why.”
“Now, hold on there. He took care of you financially. It’s not like we gave you up to strangers or put you in a foster home.”
I throw up my hands. “Wow, well, thank you for that.”
“And we just didn’t see the reason for telling you because it would only hurt you.”
“Don’t you think lying hurt me more?” I whisper-shout.
“You think you're father,” my mom hesitates as she closes her eyes. “Micheal. Do you think Micheal made things easy for me? He didn’t even believe me when it happened. He thought the truth was a lie.”