Page 104 of Adoration: Isn't What It Seems (Love Isn't What It Seems 2)

I glanced up at Layla and saw her watching the picture, as if she was scared to see it.

I slowly handed it to her, unsure if she wanted it. She shook her head and dread came over me. I stared at Layla, waiting… not sure for what.

“I’m sorry, Livy,” she muttered.

“Why?” The question was barely audible.

“I knew I had a sister out there,” her hands shook, although her voice was firm. “I decided to find you. My grandparents always obsessed over their grandchild from Lily Glasgow. When I found you, you and Lena pulled me into your circle, and with each day, I loved you both more and more. The more time went by, the less courage I had to tell you.”

“How is this possible?” I wasn’t sure if I was asking him or talking to myself. I didn’t even know what questions I should ask. I didn’t understand any of this. “How could you lie to me for all those years, Layla?”

“I’m so sorry, Livy.”

“Did my mother know?” I asked her. But deep inside, I wondered how could my mother not see the resemblance between Layla and our father. I spotted it right away, just from looking at the picture.

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I only met your mom a handful of times but she never led me to believe she knew who I was.”

I felt the whole world was spinning and nothing made sense anymore.

Alexander’s father was still seated next to me, took my hand and held it surprisingly gentle.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way. I was shocked to see you with your half-sister and I thought you knew about your father.” He spoke softly, his voice portraying loss and pain. “Livy, your grandparents forced Lily’s marriage. It is fairly common in old, established families. We grew up together. I think I loved her then too, but didn’t recognize it till she came back. The moment our eyes met for the first time as adults, I fell in love with your mother. I wanted her adoration, her everything. But I was already married and she was promised to someone else. I turned to whiskey while your mom suffered in silence in a loveless and abusive marriage. If only I wasn’t drowning in whiskey, I could have been there for her when she needed me. ”

“I don’t understand.” I watched him, confused. “So my father got my mom pregnant, and he was cheating on her at the same time with Layla’s mom?”

None of this made any sense.

“Henry Cambridge raped your mother, Livy.” His words shattered my world. I stared at him, my world quickly turning dark. My ears buzzed. “Nobody but Lily and I knew it.”

Raped your mother. Raped your mother.

The same words repeated again and again. My mother was raped and I kept reminding her, forcing her to tell me about her rapist. The man who hurt her. God, all the things I said to her because I wanted to know. And now, all I wanted to do was forget. Forget his name. Forget what he did. Forget he ever existed.

The last words I spoke to my mom kept ringing in my ears, demanding to learn who my father was. It was hard to breath, my throat choking my airways. I stood up abruptly, the chair falling behind me in a loud thump, causing everyone’s glances our way.

“I’m sorry.” My eyes darted between the two, probably looking like a maniac having a hard time to focus. “I have to go.”

I hurried out of there, ghosts of my past on my heel.

“Livy,” I heard Layla’s voice call out, but I couldn’t do this now.

I started running, needing to leave those words as far behind me as I could. I needed to leave them all behind. When my breath left me, I walked and walked, not noticing anyone or anything. The entire conversation was replaying in my head over and over again. The memories of my mom were haunting me, blaming me.

She was trying to protect me and I killed her. My words pushed her over the edge. I was sure of it.

It didn’t even register when I sat on the bench at the park, staring mindlessly around me, the only images playing in my mind were of the past. I threw those horrible words at her the last time I saw her. She begged me to stop. How could I live with myself knowing this?

My father raped my mother, my father raped my mother… Oh my God, my father raped my mother.

I missed her so much and the smell of home that only she could give me. That unique smell of peonies she loved so much. Did she love Alexander’s dad? Then I remembered my husband’s words. He had a bad relationship with his father because of his father’s obsession with another woman.

Was my mother the other woman? Why did nobody tell me all this? Did Alexander know? Did his grandfather know? He must have, he told me he knew my mom and her parents. Did everyone know except for me?

Restlessness and thoughts swirling in my head made it hard to remain sitting so I started walking again. Aimlessly, desperately trying to fit all the pieces in my head but there were so many pieces missing. I still didn’t understand so much.

I wasn’t sure how long I walked, when my cell phone rang, getting me out of my strumpor.

“Hello,” I answered the phone without paying attention to who it was.

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