Page 116 of Until the Ribbon Breaks

Like a shadow, it follows. Even when I can’t see it, it’s still there, filling me with its torment.

When I pull up to the house, I’m anxious to see my dad, but when I hop out and rush inside, he’s nowhere to be found. It isn’t until I walk back to their bedroom that I’m reminded of our family’s devastation.

They’re in there, fighting and slinging vile words back and forth that I’d never expect to hear from my parents.

“You did this to yourself,” my father screams. “What did you expect when you started sleeping with another man? That I would be okay? That I would forgive you?”

“No, of course not.” She’s crying. “But we have a family. You can’t give up on us.”

“Don’t you put this on me. You’re the one who gave up on us. You!”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I can do to make you believe me.”

“Nothing,” he seethes. “It disgusts me to even look at you.”

The empty hole in my soul expands, allowing a frigid gust to blow through it, chilling me to the core. I’ve never heard him so angry before, but I can’t blame him. My mother deserves it.

She’s ruined our family.

“Jonathan, please—”

“It isn’t even worth you begging. I hate you.” His words are razor sharp, and when the door swings open, his face is fuming red.

He startles when he sees me.

“Harl—”

Before he can get my whole name out, I’m running out the door, and straight toward my car. I turn the key, throw it into reverse, and look up in time to see him standing in the doorway of our house that’s no longer a home.

Tears rise, he blurs, and I drive away.

Their voices echo in my head as I get as far away as I can. My hands tremble against the steering wheel. How is this my life? We’re a family—ever-lasting and strong, but we’re falling apart.

Rolling up to a red light, I wipe my face and grab my phone.

Me: Are you busy?

Sebastian: Just hanging with friends. Everything okay?

No. Nothing is okay.

Me: Yeah.

It’s the first lie I’ve told him, and when the light turns green, I head over to Marina Beach. A shiver jostles me as I sit on a piece of driftwood. It’s especially cold for it being the end of September, and with the sun setting, it only feels colder. Droplets of rain trickle over the hood of my raincoat, and I pull it around me tighter while I cry.

The broken heart I’ve been walking around with for years is damn near pulverized at this point.

I don’t want this life. I don’t want my family to be torn to pieces.

Before I know it, my mind takes me places I don’t want to go to. Thoughts of my dad remarrying and starting a whole new family feed the fear that I’ll one day be forgotten. My mother finding someone new and that person moving in and claiming my father’s place is incomprehensible.

When he moves out, then what? I barely see him as it is.

Will that be it?

Will he even have time for me?

The sky darkens as the sun sets behind a thick veil of gray, and I rock back and forth in an attempt to warm myself. Only, I don’t want to be warm. The cold numbs me on the outside and distracts me from feeling too much on the inside.

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