Chapter 35: Paris

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Lydia welcomes me back with open arms once I walk on our lawn, telling me my father is still asleep. I couldn't be more glad about that. Without barely saying a word I walk into the kitchen, taking some left-overs from last night dinner. I haven't eaten anymore.

The concerned look on her face is something I can't ignore, and now that my father is save in his bedroom she decides to act as my mother again. My mother, I realize and get nauseous after another bite of pasta.

'You were with Jess last night?' She asks confused. I nod a little, trying to swallow the food. 'And Rory is fine with that?' I look up at her for the first time, her eyes narrowing mine a little harsher.

'Nothing happened,' I mumble and walk over to the fridge to take some juice. 'Right. You end up in the apartment of someone you used to be in love with and you have fallen asleep?' She asks sarcastic. The tone she uses makes me angry, as if that is the kind of person I am.

'That is exactly what happened,' I defend myself but she doesn't buy it at all. 'Good Luke was there. Or wait, no he wasn't'. I roll my eyes, getting mad over how she is treating me. 'What does that matter? Jess took great care of me, Lydia.'

'Luke would've brought you straight home,' she remarks and blocks my way when I want to leave the kitchen.

'What are you mad about?' I ask desperate and she sighs, I have never seen her like this before. 'You leave the house after your father tells you your mother is very sick. Have you ever considered she might be dying, Madelaine?'

Her voice echoes through the empty house, and I can almost guess this has woken up my father. 'For a fact, yes I have, believe me!' I say louder and walk past her into the hallway.

'Madelaine, I don't want to fight over this. But think about mother, she might want to see you,' she insists. 'Now she wants to see me?' I ask weakly and hear my father walk down the stairs in a rush. Lydia keeps quiet in an instant, guilt over her face.

When it comes down to these kind of things I know she can be harsh, but this is too far. 'Madelaine' My father greats me as if nothing has happened and I walk past him towards my bedroom, ready to lock myself up for at least a day.

The moment I lay down in my bed, staring at the ceiling I want to call Jess, remembering I can't do that. He spends every Saturday with Rory.

Instead I reach for my pocket and decide to call Brad, but that is the second I realize I don't have my phone with me. I sigh deep, holding my hands before my face when I remember I forgot it at the apartment. Brad must think I'm a fool after the way I mumbled against his voicemail last night.

I have to get my phone back somehow, but that won't be something for today. I'm exhausted.

(time skip)

'Your mother wants to see you,' my father claims at dinner that evening. It has taken Lydia a lot of effort do drag me out of bed, but I knew if I didn't ,I would only bring her in trouble. I stare in front of me, trying to fight the urge of disappearing again. I have an incredible headache.

'Madelaine, they can't cure her. She won't be with us for long,' he whispers. The moment I look up at him I can see tears in his eyes and I feel sorry. I would lie if I told him I don't care, I care so much I vomited the whole day. Luckily I have a bathroom next to my bedroom.

I can't eat anything and decide to lay my fork down. 'You haven't even told me what she has,' I say instead of answering him properly. He squeezes his eyes a little, showing some wrinkles he didn't have three years ago.

'Cancer,' he whispers. 'She has cancer for a long time now. We tried everything and didn't want you to be worried.'

'That is why you have been in New York for three years? You won't even tell your own daughter that her mother is sick!' I raise my voice and regret it immediately. 'We weren't in New York,' he admits after that, standing up from his chair.

'You weren't?' I ask confused and follow him into the hallway, our loud voices echoing through the whole hall.

'We were in Paris. Your mother is still in Paris, all by herself and for God's sake she wants to see her daughter!' With that he walks over to the staircase, disappearing in the dark hallway upstairs.

Paris. My parents have been on another continent for three years and I had no idea. In a rage of anger I take a plant and throw it against the wall, the glass of the vase breaking. I sink down, starting to sob when the doorbell rings, barely being able to unlock the door in front of me.

After another few rings I open it, seeing Jess' face in the light of the hallway, my crying only getting worse. 'I'm sorry. You forgot your phone this morning. I thought I would come by and-'

I walk over to him, falling in his arms. Not caring at all. He closes his arms around me after a while, patting my back softly when I can't breathe anymore.

'Brad called you a few times,' he whispers unsure but I shake my head desperate, wanting to tell him I don't care.

'My mother is dying,' I whisper hoarse. That is the moment he locks his arms around me tighter, like he used to. I believe we stand there for minutes without saying anything. It doesn't even matter, it doesn't feel like back in New York. Back then, I used to feel save.

Now I feel like my world is ending and I can't fight back. Not even with his arms around me.

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