***
I awakened to the sound of my ringing phone. A smile flitted across my face as I found Raheem's name on my screen. I hit the answer button.
I made to speak, but Raheem didn't give me a chance. "I'm at your gate."
The line went dead. I gazed at the phone in my hand. What the hell had just happened? Why had he sounded like I was the last person he wanted to speak to? It was almost as though he didn't want to hear my voice. What had gone wrong?
A possibility dawned on me. What if he'd pondered over my loss of self control and decided to end it all? Or did it have to do with his family? Did it involve his dad?
Staying in bed and musing over these things would not give an answer. I rose to my feet and advanced to the gate. Unlocking it, I stepped outside. And there, before me, stood the answer to my questions. Raheem sat on his bike, his eyes hiding behind dark glasses. My stepmother stood beside him.
I knew without a doubt that Peter had informed him of the graveyard scene. What would Raheem think of me now? What if my stepmother had filled his head with lies aimed to turn him against me?
"Thank you," my stepmother said, smiling at him.
Raheem nodded. Without acknowledging my presence, he started the engine. I sprinted to his side. No way in hell would I let him leave. No, not like this.
"Raheem, I...I can explain," I said.
"Don't," he said. "You were right, Victoria Brown. This can't work." His words tightened my stomach into a tortuous knot.
Without another word, he zoomed out of sight, leaving me to swim in the smoke of everything I once had, now burned to the ground. A bolt of rejection hit me squarely in the chest, knocking me out of breath. Tears sprang to my eyes.
I had lost the one person who gave me reason to live. How would I go on without him?
Bursting into tears, I darted into my room and threw myself onto my bed. With my own hands, I'd destroyed the happiness I'd worked so hard to build. I'd only intended to make my stepmother pay for her wrongs. How was I to know my actions would drive away the one person I cared about the most?
I felt a new kind of pain build up within me; one I could not fathom. A pain so similar to losing a loved one in death, and yet so different. It clawed at my chest and threatened to break everything I was. My breath came in short, ragged gasps, setting my lungs ablaze.
Once, I'd thought losing a loved one in death was the worst kind of emotional pain. But today I realized the rejection of a loved one hurt no less. At least, with death, I knew my loved ones had left without a choice. If they could, they'd still be with me.
But in this case, Raheem had a choice. And he had chosen to reject me now when I needed him the most. Although I'd seen this coming, I could never have guessed it hurt so much to be heartbroken. Why did I feel a pressure on my chest, as though something heavy sat atop it? Why did it hurt as though my heart had been literally ripped out of my chest?
I grabbed my phone and dialed his number. I wouldn't give up without at least trying to win him back. His phone rang. Once, twice. And then, the line went dead. I dialed again, but found his phone switched off.
He wanted nothing to do with me. Every memory and dream we ever shared wilted before my eyes. How could I heal this rawness in my chest, a deep hole where my heart should be?
He'd been my shadow, my best friend, staying close in good times and in bad. Despite my many flaws, he'd loved me. And now, my whole world crumbled at my feet like a pile of ashes.
"Victoria," my stepmother called. I hadn't noticed her come in.
I raised my face to acknowledge her presence. She stood a distance away, obviously conflicted about approaching me.
"Are you happy now?" I asked, getting out of bed. "You have always wanted bad things to happen to me. When I grieve, you have a thousand and one reasons to smile. Things were fine between Raheem and I until you came along. Now he wants nothing to do with me. All because of you! You!"
"Please believe me when I say I didn't mean for any of this to happen," she said.
The sound of her voice was no different from a pestering bug waiting to be squished. Squeezing my eyes shut, I clapped my palms over my ears. "Stop! Just stop! I'm not a fool anymore, okay? I'm not the person I used to be, the person you treated like a rag. I stopped being the naive little girl who swallowed every insult and believed every lie. So, just stop. Enough lies already."
"I would never lie to you," she said.
I glared at her. "Your voice...it burns. Every time I hear you speak, I ask myself over and over again why you didn't die six months ago. You know why? I hate you. I hate you so much that it hurts. Whenever you're close to me, your presence sucks out every trace of oxygen. It suffocates me. You suffocate me, mum. I wish you died back there. I really wish you did."
Sobbing, I went on, "Why continue to torture me? Why don't you just go away, out of my life, just so I can find happiness? Why do you keep destroying my life over and over again? Why didn't you just stay dead? You should have died back there. But no, you had to wake up to ruin my life over and over again."
Although I had so much more to say, I held back. Nothing I said or did could change anything. I swept my phone off the bed and stormed off into Cynthia's room. Once there, I locked the door, keeping intruders away.
My fairy godmother came to mind. She'd been my rock, even before Raheem walked into my life. Talking to her would bring a measure of relief. Or so I hoped.
I dialed her number. After a few rings, she answered the call. "Vicky dear, hello. How's it going?"
"Bad," I said.
She freaked out. "Oh dear. What's wrong?"
"It's Raheem," I said. "It's over. He just...ended it. He wants nothing to do with me. I'm so broken right now, I don't know what to do. I wish you were here. I really wish you were here."
"I thought things were fine between you guys."
To be honest, things had never been fine between us. Every moment, we'd fought over my stepmother. I'd even been surprised we made it through six whole months. Although our feelings for each other could sustain our bond for a lifetime, our relationship had always been a fragile line, thanks to the legged misfortune called my stepmother.
"He didn't like the way I treated her," I said. "He wanted me to put the past behind me and move on. But I...I just couldn't. I mean, I can't. I'm only human. I can't erase memories of the way she treated me in the past."
"Sweetheart, I know just how you feel," she said. "But you know forgiveness is a trait we all must master. Everyone deserves a second chance. From what I've heard, your stepmother is a different person and has been showering you with love."
"How do I know she's really changed?" I asked. "How do I know this is not one twisted game? How can I trust her after everything she's done? Just how?"
"Sweetheart, she was in coma for two whole weeks. Do you think she faked it? Truth be told, she turned a new leaf the moment she lost her daughter. Now she begs for just a chance to be your mother. Isn't this what you always wanted?"
"Things are changed," I said. "I changed. And so did my desires."
"Okay, so what is it you want?"
I made to speak, but she beat me to it. "Don't say it. I know. You want him back, so go. Go get him. Just go see him, admit your mistakes, and be the you you really are, not the stone hearted person you're pretending to be. That's all he wants. Tell him you're willing to let go of your grudges and accept your stepmother."
"But...what if I don't really want that?" I asked.
"But you do, don't you?"
I didn't know if I needed my stepmother in my life, but I did know I wanted my life to be whole again. And for this, I'd do anything.
"I've got to go," I said.
"I'll call you later, okay?"
"Okay." Ending the call, I mused over Stella's words.
Raheem wanted me to admit my mistakes, to be me, the sweet girl he had fallen in love with. He'd always preached about my stepmother needing a second chance. If he thought she did, then
I did too.
Brimming with a hope I never saw coming, I set out to go see him.