A familiar fatigue crested through her, one she hadn’t felt in ages. But then she hadn’t had all the players present on this familiar stage in ages too, had she?
“You’re here, in my room,” her mother replied, no emotion showing on her face. But that could also be the excessive Botox. “You wouldn’t seek me out unless there was a problem.”
“Do you love me?” Cara asked, taking Maria by surprise.
“I beg your pardon.”
“It’s a simple question, Mom. Do you love me?”
“Well,” Maria floundered. “All mothers love their children.”
“No Mom. No more deflecting.”
Maria sat up, letting her feet come to rest on the floor, her hands pressing into the side of the bed, her shoulders rounding and stooping, her age seeming to bear down on her.
“Yes, Celina. I love you,” she told the floor she was staring at. “I have always loved you.”
It had been years since her mother had called her Celina. Years since either of them had acknowledged the fact that Celina had existed. She felt the ground beneath her feet quake a little.
“You’re back in touch with that boy again, aren’t you?” Maria asked, still looking at the marble flooring.
Cara went to sit beside her mother, keeping her own gaze on the flooring too. Had there always been this many grains in the marble?
“I know you are,” Maria continued. “I’ve been watching you the last few days, you know. And I can see it.”
“See what?” Cara asked, closing her eyes.
“You glow when he’s in your life, Celi,” her mother said quietly.
Tears pressed against the back of Cara’s eyelids.
“Tell me,” she said, forcing her voice to stay calm, opening her eyes and turning to face her mother. “Tell me everything.”
Maria exhaled, a quavering sound. “I don’t remember when I fell in love with Mohan. Your father was away, I was lonely, and he…he was there. He was good to me, loved me even. And I was desperate, Celi, so desperate to be loved, to have someone who loved me in my life.”
I loved you, Cara thought, but she kept the thought to herself, not voicing it. Clearly, she hadn’t been enough.
“One day, the day you joined school, that boy caught Mohan and I…” Maria’s voice trailed off. “He caught us,” she finished finally. “Together. He walked in on us by mistake.”
Cara could only imagine. “His name is Virat,” she said, her voice quiet but steely. “Use it.”
“Virat saw us together. Mohan was furious. We would have both lost our jobs if it had come to the school management’s knowledge. So, Mohan did what he could to ensure that boy,” her voice faltered, “I mean Virat, stayed quiet.”
“You mean he abused and tortured him to force his silence.”
“He…” Maria’s voice quavered. “Yes,” she said after a second.
“This was the man you loved, Mom? The man you left Dad for?”
“When I saw what Mohan was doing to V-Virat, I started to fear him. But I was in so deep at that point, I didn’t know how to get out. So, I stayed quiet. I let it happen. I thought…better him than me.”
Cara’s eyes closed, pain swelling like a tsunami within her.
“And then you befriended him. I wasn’t the only one who watched you get closer to him. Mohan did too. He knew that you were important to Virat and…”
“And?” Cara’s voice was hard as granite. No more secrets, she thought, but God their reveal threatened to drown her, pull her under in a riptide she couldn’t fight.
“Mohan used you to keep him quiet. He told Virat that if he didn’t keep his silence and endure the…” her mother’s voice faltered before trailing into uneasy quiet.