Page 196 of Keep This Promise
I nod.
A few moments ago, I didn’t want to share this part of me. I hate my parents for what they did. Neglect doesn’t always follow the lines society thinks it does, and it isn’t always visible until it’s too late.
“How so?” Sophie asks.
“They’re the reason I’m a doctor.”
“That doesn’t sound like it makes them monsters.”
“The reason I wanted to become one does,” I say. If I had been trained. If I had known anything about my sister’s condition, I could’ve saved her. I could’ve done so much, but I was fifteen and knew nothing about being sick. My sister told them about what was happening, and they rolled their eyes before going back to saving the world while Kira suffered.
“You can tell me, Holden.” Sophie’s voice is soft. “I assure you that I have no room to judge another, and I wouldn’t anyway.”
There are only six people in the world who know what happened. Six people who were there and saved me after losing her.
“My sister died from a diabetic coma when I was fifteen. She was nine. Kira was never in their plans. They wanted one child, just for appearances’ sake, but then my mother got pregnant with her. From the day they found out, it was utter despair. I was happy, I remember being excited about having a sister. I . . . I don’t know, it all feels like it blurs together. We raised ourselves, cooked for ourselves if Mama James wasn’t around. Back then, she was working full time but did her best to check on us. However, you had two kids trying to make food, it really wasn’t healthy things.”
“You were alone that often?” Sophie asks, concern filling her voice.
“There was one time when I didn’t see or hear from our parents for six days. I was twelve, taking care of Kira. My mother went to a conference, and my father was probably sleeping with one of his parishioners.”
I will never forget that time. I thought they died, but I was scared enough not to say anything because one of the kids at school had been removed from his home and separated from his siblings. The idea of not having my sister was scarier than doing what we could to survive.
“Oh, God!” She gasps. “That’s terrible.”
“When we were young, I hid a lot of things. So, as much as my parents are to blame, I am as well. I lied about Kira’s problems, thinking the truth would make things worse. I downplayed everything.”
She reaches her hand out. “You were a boy. You never could’ve known there was something wrong.”
“I know that now, but I struggled for a really fucking long time. I blamed myself, then my parents, and now I just do whatever I can to make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”
“I am so sorry.”
I think about how hard things were then and how my parents also found a way to blame me. She died when I was a sophomore, and by senior year, my parents had deteriorated into complete assholes. I was lucky that Mama James removed me from that house. It’s because of her that I’m half the man I am.
“It is what it is. I miss my sister. I wish she could’ve met you and Eden. I think she would’ve grown up to be a remarkable woman if she were given the chance.”
“With you as her brother, I’m sure of it.”
Sophie moves her hand away, and I miss her touch. I don’t know how I am already feeling things for her. It makes no sense. She’s hiding things, and here I am, wondering if it’s okay to make a move since she didn’t have any kind of romantic feelings for her husband.
I am going straight to hell.
But opening up to her feels . . . good. I haven’t talked about Kira in so long that I’d forgotten how it felt to say her name.
My ex-wife loved her. She and I used to talk about her all the time. Jenna was my high school girlfriend and would spend days at my house when my parents would disappear. Kira thought Jenna was the most beautiful girl in the world. I agreed at the time. Looking back, it makes me think that losing Kira caused me to hold on to anything I loved even harder, which was why I proposed to Jenna our sophomore year of college, and we got married three months later.
I just couldn’t lose her.
I couldn’t lose anything else.
Then I realized that holding on to things that were meant to be free was worse than losing them. It was prison.
When she handed me the divorce papers before med school, I understood it. I’d trapped her and tried to get her to live in my box, and she couldn’t do it. She was stronger than I was to leave, and in the end, it was the right decision for us both.
At least that was the bullshit I fed myself.
Sophie leans back in her chair, grinning at me. “Dinner was amazing. Thank you for bringing me here and just the entire evening.”
