The days following the country club outing were strangely quiet in the Smith household. Funmi found herself retreating more into her studies and her art, drawing strength from the solitude her room provided. Lizzy, meanwhile, continued her daily routines, though there was a noticeable absence in her usually vibrant energy. It was as if their conversation in the garden had left a mark on both of them, a fragile understanding that hung in the air, but one that was still weighed down by unspoken words.
One evening, as the family sat in the den, Mrs. Smith turned to Funmi with a soft smile. "Funmi, darling, I know we haven't had much mother-daughter time lately. How about we go shopping together
tomorrow? Just the two of us?"
Funmi's eyes widened. It had been so long since her mother had suggested a day just for them. She managed a small smile and nodded. "Sure, Mom. That sounds nice."
The next morning, Funmi felt a faint sense of excitement as she and her mother headed into town. The shopping trip was meant to be lighthearted, but as they wandered from store to store, Funmi couldn't ignore the tension lurking just below the surface. She felt the weight of the conversation she needed to have with her mother—the one she'd been avoiding for years.
Finally, after they'd settled at a cozy café with coffee and pastries, Funmi took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly.
She looked at her mother, searching for the right words.
"Mom… can I ask you something?" she began, her voice barely above a whisper.
Mrs. Smith looked at her daughter with surprise but nodded, her face soft with encouragement. "Of course, darling. You can ask me anything."
Funmi hesitated, glancing down at her coffee. "Do you… do you ever regret adopting Lizzy?"
Her mother's expression softened with understanding, but a flicker of sadness crossed her face. She reached across the table, taking Funmi's hand gently.
"Funmi," she said softly, "bringing Lizzy
into our lives was never about replacing you. Your father and I wanted to give her a chance, just like we'd give any child in need."
Funmi looked away, struggling to voice the knot of emotions she'd carried for so long. "It's just… sometimes, it feels like you all see her as the perfect daughter. Like she completes the family in a way I never could."
Mrs. Smith's grip on Funmi's hand tightened, and her eyes filled with unshed tears. "Oh, sweetheart, that's not true. You are our daughter—our firstborn, our joy. But sometimes, I worry we didn't make you feel that way."
Funmi felt her own tears beginning to sting her eyes. "Then why does it hurt so much?
Why does it feel like no matter what I do, she's always… she's always better?"
Her mother looked at her with a sadness that spoke of years of unspoken pain. "Funmi, I don't expect you to understand fully now, but Lizzy has her own struggles, ones we've tried to protect you from. She's had a difficult past, things that no child should go through. And maybe, in trying to help her heal, we didn't realize we were making you feel left out."
Funmi felt a chill run through her. She'd always assumed Lizzy had it easy, effortlessly becoming the "perfect" daughter. The thought of Lizzy having endured pain in her life was something she'd never considered.
"What… what kind of struggles?" she asked
hesitantly, her voice trembling.
Mrs. Smith looked away, as if struggling to find the words. "It's… it's not my story to tell, Funmi. But please know that Lizzy has fought her own battles. She has always looked up to you, admired you, even if she never told you. She's felt like an outsider, just like you. But she loves you, more than you might realize."
The words settled heavily in Funmi's heart, filling her with a confusing mix of guilt and empathy. She had spent so long resenting Lizzy, feeling as though Lizzy had stolen the place she'd once held. But now, she wondered if they had both been carrying burdens neither of them fully understood.
The ride home was quiet, both mother and daughter lost in thought. Funmi felt the
weight of new questions pressing down on her, questions that only Lizzy could answer.
---
That night, Funmi lay awake in bed, replaying her mother's words in her mind. She thought of the moments she'd seen Lizzy looking tired or sad, the moments she had brushed off as mere politeness or shyness. Was it possible that Lizzy's life was more complicated than she'd ever imagined?
The next morning, as the house came to life, Funmi decided she could no longer ignore the truth she sensed was buried within her sister. She found Lizzy in the garden, carefully trimming the roses. Funmi's heart raced as she approached,
but she steadied herself, knowing this was a conversation she could no longer avoid.
"Lizzy," she called softly.
Lizzy looked up, a little startled but smiling as she set down her pruning shears. "Hey, Funmi. What's up?"
Funmi took a deep breath, meeting Lizzy's gaze with newfound determination. "I want to talk. Really talk. About… about us, and about everything."
Lizzy's expression softened, and she nodded, motioning for Funmi to join her on a nearby bench. They sat in silence for a moment, each waiting for the other to start.
Finally, Funmi broke the silence. "Mom told me… she told me that you've been through
things. Hard things."
Lizzy's face fell, and she looked away, the sadness she'd been hiding suddenly surfacing in her eyes. "I didn't want you to know, Funmi. I didn't want you to carry that burden."
Funmi reached out, placing her hand over Lizzy's, and for the first time, she saw her sister—not as the perfect daughter or the favorite, but as someone who had endured more than she'd ever realized.
"Please, Lizzy. I want to understand. I want to know you… the real you."
Lizzy looked at her, eyes brimming with tears, and nodded slowly. For the first time, she opened up, her voice barely a whisper as she began to share the painful
memories that had shaped her life. The years of feeling unloved, the hurt she'd carried, and the moments of loneliness she'd hidden behind her gentle smile.
As she spoke, Funmi felt her own heart ache, realizing how wrong she'd been to judge Lizzy without knowing the whole story. Their lives had been shaped by misunderstandings and missed opportunities for connection, but now, sitting side by side, they began to mend the rift that had divided them for so long.
They talked for hours, sharing secrets, hopes, and fears they'd both kept buried. And by the time the sun began to set, they found themselves in quiet embrace, a silent promise between them to rebuild their bond and find strength in each other.