(Adrian)
"…we found your mother in a terrible condition. Fortunately, she's responding to treatment at the hospital…" the commissioner spoke softly on the phone.
(Aurora)
The tension in the air was palpable as Adrian stepped into the room to face his parents. My heart raced as I watched from a distance, hoping for the best. The first few minutes were filled with awkward silence until his mother broke it.
"A-adrian, my…my son," his mother cried.
He fell on his knees before her wheelchair. "Christ!" He shouted. "Yes, Mom. It's me. What happened to you?!"
"You'd have listened to us, my boy. We wanted the best for you," she said, ignoring his question.
"I know, but–"
Adrian's father chimed in. "No buts! Do you know how much pain and suffering you caused us just because of what you believed was love, huh?"
"Richard, take it easy on him. He's still our son," his mom pleaded on his behalf.
"He has to face the truth, Bella. Adrian is a grown-up man, he's not a kid!"
"I'm sorry, Dad. Mom. I know I messed up. I hurt the family, and I regret it every day," Adrian said, his voice cracking with emotion.
The room fell silent once again as his parents absorbed his words. Finally, his mother spoke up.
"We know you were blinded by love, but ignoring us wasn't the best. We could have talked things out as usual."
"I know. I just...I couldn't bring myself to face you both. I was afraid of what you might say or do regarding the wedding," Adrian replied, his head bowed.
His father spoke up again, his voice slightly softer this time. "That's alright. You have a family now, Adrian. You need to start thinking about them."
"I am, Dad. I swear. They mean everything to me," Adrian said, his eyes brimming with tears.
His parents exchanged a glance before his mother spoke up again. "We forgive you, Adrian. It may take some time to rebuild our broken bond, but we love you, and we're here for you if you need us."
The relief on Adrian's face was evident as he broke down in tears. His dad got up from his seat and pulled him into a hug. Then Adrian wrapped his arms around his mum as she was unable to walk.
As I watched the scene unfold, I couldn't help but feel proud of Adrian. He'd faced his fears and made things right with his family. It wasn't going to be easy, but it was the first step towards healing.
…
We stood outside the room, anxiously waiting for Adrian. Sensing my distress, Stacey tugged on my dress, her eyes wide with concern. "Mama, you look so worried. Is Papa alright in there?" she asked, her voice filled with innocence and genuine care.
Looking down at my precious daughter, I managed to muster a reassuring smile. I gently ruffled Stacey's hair, trying to convey a sense of calm. "Yes, my dear," I replied softly, my voice tinged with a mix of hope and uncertainty.
Just then, the door swung open, and familiar voices filled the room. "Hey Stacey!" a chorus of joyful voices chimed in unison. Relief washed over me as I realized that everyone had returned safely.
Stacey's eyes lit up with happiness, and a mix of relief too. "Yeah!!! Everyone is back," she shouted, feeling a sense of comfort in their presence.
Our family members approached with a warm embrace, their faces expressing both relief and concern for Stacey's well-being. "Yep, and we got you something, sweetheart," Aurelia offered, extending a small gift towards her.
But Stacey's reaction surprised us. She recoiled slightly and declined the gift, her words laced with fear and sadness. "No, thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I... I don't want anything. Go away, please! I want only my Papa and Mama. Y'all are bad people-" Her words trailed off as tears welled up in her eyes.
Realizing the gravity of Stacey's emotions, Annabel quickly interjected, her voice filled with both caution and protectiveness. "Stacey, don't say that to us. We're family," she implored, her eyes searching mine for a flicker of comprehension and hoping to dispel any notion of mistrust.
I, sensing the delicate situation, stepped forward, understanding the complexity of Stacey's emotions. "Look here, don't force anything on her, please," I softly insisted. "She's likely still suffering from PTSD."
The realization swept over the family, their expressions turning from surprise to remorse. "Oh my goodness! We're so sorry, Stacey," they murmured, their voices conveying genuine regret for their insensitivity.
Feeling a renewed surge of empathy, I bent down to Stacey's level, her tone gentle and soothing. "Please, don't let them hurt me, mommy," Stacey kept pleading, her voice laced with fear and vulnerability.
My heart broke at the rawness of my daughter's emotions. I hugged Stacey tightly, promising to protect her at all costs. "Trust me, they're good people, and they care about your well-being," I reassured her, my voice filled with love and determination. "We are here to protect you, darling."
Taking a deep breath, Stacey nodded, her face still wet with tears. "Ok, mama," she whispered, finding solace in my embrace. And as the family stood there, enveloped in a cocoon of love and understanding, they vowed to support Stacey through her struggles, always striving to be the safe haven she desperately needed.
…
Q/A: Wondering what's going on in the little girl's head?
Stacey's Thoughts:
Their intentions were pure, but my heart remained guarded, unable to accept their offering. I could only see them as intruders, invading my sacred space.
My distress began to manifest, as the pain and trauma I had endured clawed its way into my thoughts and emotions. Tears threatened to spill as I pleaded, my voice betraying my fear,
I was terrified that the wounds concealed in my fragile heart would be ripped open once more.
Then I found myself surrendering to the notion that perhaps, amidst the turmoil, a new sense of belonging and security could be found with our entire family.
And so, as we navigated the complexities of healing and rebuilding, I clung to Mama's promise, believing that love and protection would prevail, binding our disjointed family together in a newfound strength.