Page 5 of October
I took a step back, the truth sinking in with sharp clarity. "She's your priority," I said, my voice cracking. "Something goes wrong in her life, and you drop everything. You're there for her." He stared at me, disbelief written all over his face. There was a knock, and then—without waiting—Laura entered again. Like she knew she could.
"I just thought I should let you know, people can hear," she said sweetly, eyes only for him. "Might be best to finish this at home."
He nodded. "Thanks, Laura."
And that was it.
Notwe're in the middle of something.
Notplease give us a moment.
Justthanks, Laura.
When the door shut, I stared at him. He shook his head. " We will talk more at home. You can't just come to my job and make a scene."
"I made a scene because you forgot me."
"I didn't forget your birthday!"
"You forgotme."
He slammed a hand against the desk. "God, do you even hear yourself? This jealousy—this obsession—it's exhausting! My father's coming any minute. I don't have time for your tantrum."
"tantrum"...and in that moment, it hit me; he would always believe the problem wasme. My hormones. My exhaustion. My expectations. My feelings. Never him. Never the woman he runs to. Never the choices he makes, over and over, to make her feel safe and seen, while I sit at home wondering what I did wrong.
I didn't say another word. I picked up the baby, kept my head high, and walked out the door, and I didn't look back.I drove to small park nearby and sat on a bench, the stroller beside me, my chest tight. My hands still shaking. I called his sister.
When she picked up, I could almost hear her smirk through the phone. "What the hell did my idiot brother do now?" she asked, her voice carefree, a stark contrast to the heavy, suffocating air I was drowning in. I took a deep breath, trying to keep it together. "I don't think he loves me."
There was a long pause on the other end. I could hear her shuffling around, probably making herself a cup of coffee or cracking open a beer, just like she always did when she was in one of those carefree moods. She didn't have a care in the world, a fact that both irritated and fascinated me. But then, that was always her way. She was the wild one—the one who never quite fit into the family.
Unlike Thomas and the rest of them, she didn't care about rules, status, or maintaining appearances. She'd left years ago, chosen to live on her own terms, living a nomadic life that took her from one place to the next. She'd traveled, explored, met people who actuallysawher. She'd given up the comfort of her family's rigid world, choosing instead to live out of a backpack and chase after whatever called her in the moment. And, in doing so, she became the black sheep of the family.
Her decisions, her free-spirited ways, were a constant disappointment to her conservative, uptight parents. They saw her as reckless, childish, lost, and for a while, I had agreed with them. I tried to be the good daughter-in-law, the one who followed the path laid out for me, the one who worked hard to be accepted. But now? Now, I envied her.
She exhaled into the phone, her voice softer now. "Oh, baby... I'm sorry to hear that. But listen, do you want me to tell you the truth?"
I nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "Yes."
"The truth is... we've all seen it for a long time, October. The way you've always been in love with him, the way you've tried to make it work, even when it was clear he wasn't fully there with you. I get it, I really do. You wanted him to love you the way you love him. But he's always been distant, hasn't he? Cold. Like he knew you loved him enough that it would be enough for both of you. Look, October, Thomasnever left home, did he? Never made his own path. He stayed right there, in that suffocating world where ambition and appearances are everything. He's a perfect replica of our father. Cold, controlled, obsessed with the family business and duties."
Her words stung, but I didn't interrupt her. I knew better than to argue, not now, not with the truth hanging between us like a thick fog.
"You've been choosing him over and over," she continued, her voice a steady rhythm of honesty. "And it's time you start choosing yourself."
Her words felt like a slap, but not one meant to hurt. No, this was the kind of slap that wakes you up, that knocks sense into youwhen you've been lost in the haze of your own denial for far too long.
"You're not doing this for you anymore," she said, her voice dropping just slightly, but enough for me to feel the gravity in it. "You've got to do it for your kids, too. You've got to show them what it means to value yourself, to love yourself enough to walk away from someone who doesn't."
I swallowed the lump in my throat, my hands trembling just a little as I gripped the phone tighter. I wasn't sure if I could keep going, keep listening to the painful truth she was handing me. But I had to. I needed to hear it.
She paused, then sighed, as if she were weighing her next words carefully. "October, everyone knows how much you've loved him. Hell, it's been obvious to the whole damn world, but it is no longer enough, is it?"
I flinched, feeling the sting of her words pierce straight to my heart. I didn't want to admit it, didn't want to acknowledge how painfully true it was. But she was right.Everyoneknew. They had always known. I had worn my love for him like a badge, quietly, proudly, even though it had never been returned in the same way. All those years, I had loved him with everything I had—more than he had ever loved me, more than he had ever thought to give. I had wrapped my whole life around the idea of him, thinking that my loyalty, my sacrifices, my willingness to give up pieces of myself would somehow make him see me, make him appreciate me. But it had never been enough.
It was like I had been playing a one-sided game, pouring everything into someone who never bothered to meet me halfway. And I had been so blinded by my own love, by my ownexpectations, that I had failed to see how it was draining me, wearing me thin, until I was nothing more than a shadow of myself.
Her words hit me like a brick. And though they hurt, they were exactly what I needed to hear. My heart twisted in pain, but something inside me also cracked open. I didn't respond for a moment, and when I finally spoke, my voice was hoarse. "I don't know how to let go."
