"What's with the rush? Where are you going?" Adrian asks.

He's coming straight from the bathroom, a white towel hanging around his neck.

"Home." I grab my clutch, my facial details the least of my concerns.

"Why so early? Did something happen?"

I don't need to look at him to understand the dread in his voice. I wanted the whole day with him, sorting our reserved issues, but plans tend to change.

Now I'm agitated. Nothing works fine except for my speed as I walk toward the door, ready to storm off. I feel anxious and confused, and I don't know what to expect.

"Arabella, I'm talking to you!" Adrian blocks my path, distasteful of my silence. "What's going on? Did something happen at home?" he demands gently.

"Yes, something happened! But I don't have time, Adrian. I'll tell you later."

"Hold on." He grips my hand, eyes narrowed down at me condescendingly. "What is it?" He's concerned, but I'm not up for this.

"Fine!" I sigh heavily. "I heard my mother is back. She's at home," I say, the name feeling so bitter on my tongue.

Mother? I scoff.

"Your mother?" Adrian is as stunned as I am, but I'm petrified.

"Yeah." I nod nervously.

"Okay, I'll drive you there. Wait for me," he enunciates calmly.

"No need. I'll manage on my own." I pull my hand away.

"Arabella—"

"I can't wait, Adrian! I have to go right now. Sorry." I breeze out, for a mere second wasted here could mean chaos in my peace of mind.

I can't let that woman talk to Isla. I don't want her anywhere near my siblings. To my little sister, our mother is dead. I don't want her to learn that she was abandoned when she was just a baby. No, that would traumatize her.

"Jake! Is it true?" Phone in the ear, I slip into the first taxi I see. "Is she really back? Is it really her?"

"She's in the living room," Jake replies, his voice growing with myriad emotions that revolve around pure anger, needles for me to see him. "It's really her," he adds bitterly.

My neck stiffens as I grit my teeth. I'm hardly holding myself together by now, because I can't handle this one. Mixed emotions boil inside me like lava, searching for an outlet. I can't believe that she's back after almost seven years.

"And Isla?" I ask immediately.

She's the one I'm concerned the most about.

"She's with her." Jake's blunt answer turns my body limp, paralyzed.

It can't be!

Laughter echoes through the walls as I walk into the house. It's Isla, probably playing with her puddles. It suddenly dawns on me that the anonymous sender could be no one but the same woman I behold when I finally reach the living room.

"Ara!" Aunt Lara stands up abruptly, worry painted all over her face.

My eyes stalk the slender woman seated next to Isla, a puppy basket placed between the two of them. y hands tighten into tight fists as I watch them with uncontrolled resentment hidden deep inside my heart until this moment.

"Ara, you're back!" It's Isla, sounding giddy. "Do you know Aunt Laura? She's the one who sent you the puppies!"

Aunt Laura? I nearly laugh.

Jake is also in the living room, standing like a watchdog near the window, face devoid of emotion. I wish I had even half of his composure.

"Take Isla to her room," I state, eyeing my brother.

He obliges without questioning. While muttering something, he grabs the basket of stubborn puppies struggling to escape from their tiny house, urging Isla to rile up with a pouting face.

"Come on. Let's go," he says to her.

"I don't want to! I want to stay with Aunt Laura," she snaps.

"Isla!" I bark loudly, startling her. "You're going. Now!"

With my cold voice, she hardly objects. Ever. Reluctantly, she scurries off with Jake, leaving me, Aunt Lara, and the so-called mom whose eyes regard me nervously.

"Ara..." She dares to utter my name as she stands up.

I can barely breathe as I look at her closer, the pain too deep and crucial inside my heart. She's still tall and slim, one of the features Jake has proudly inherited from her. Her blonde hair is as wavy as before, a bonus feature that makes her look exactly like Isla on the face.

Except for our deep hazel eyes, there's nothing more I can resemble her. She hasn't aged much, if not at all, for her face is still fair and pretty, her body as fit and elegant as I remember. She would've made an excellent actress—not a mom. It's one of the stories I overheard during her arguments with my dad.

My birth was just her teenage mistake; she didn't want to have me, and because of me, she gave up her dreams of becoming an actress or whatever. I lived with that since that day, and now I think it's probably the reason why she didn't think twice to abandon us as though we meant nothing.

Perhaps we stood in her way of success since she always envied career women as the home-staying mom she used to be. It makes me wonder what she's been doing all this time. Has she found herself a career? Or a new husband to marry and start a new family with him?

"Why are you here?" I fail to come up with any other question.

I've marveled at this moment over and over again but I'm still unprepared. She's right in front of me, but my mouth is vacant of words to say. I do want to hear any excuse she can give me to justify her absence, yet there's absolutely nothing I want to hear coming from her.

"Just..." She stammers, twiddling with her fingers. "I guess I wanted to see you all, Ara."

"Exactly why?" I flap, rage consuming the last ounce of my patience the moment I see a wedding ring around her finger. Fuck her! "Why would you want to see us? Why? Why would you just show up now after all these years only to see us? What do you want from us?"

She is married! She's fucking married!

"Ara, please calm down," Aunt Lara beseeches.

"How? How am I supposed to calm down, Aunt?" My eyes run in puddles and I can't seem to understand anything. "Do you happen to know why she left us? She's your cousin, right? Did she tell you why she chose to leave us back then? And why is she now back as though nothing happened? Has she told you anything that can fix all the lost years, huh?"

"I came because I wanted to see you all even if it's for the last time!" yells the woman who gave birth to me, turning my tears into pathetic laughter.

"Wow." I'm in complete awe. "It sounds like a sleazy melodrama now. And then what? Is this part where you're going to say that you're terminally ill and you realized that you have kids in some part of the world, and it's only fair to put your affairs to die in peace? Is that it?"

"Ara—"

"Stay out of this, Aunt!" I bark at Lara, who's always a loser when it comes to arguments. I stride closer to Laura and say, "We're doing fine! As you can see, we're perfectly fine so you don't need to feel guilty about leaving us if that's the reason why you're here, Laura. We're good!"

She presses her pale pink lips tightly, repressing the tears brimming in her eyes. Delicately she runs her hands over her cheeks, and that wedding ring pokes my anger stubbornly when I see it again. Anger turns into resentment, and I want to hurt her tenfold more than she did us.

I can't help it.

"I had my reasons, Ara," she says boldly. Being thick-skinned is probably one of the things I took from her. Now I know. "I knew you'd be just fine without me because you're your father's daughter. And why are you complaining, huh? You had your aunt, didn't you? You lived in a good house that I couldn't have provided you, and now you're living in a much better one." She's referring to this house.

Adrian's house.

Straight to my face, a sly smile on her lips, she adds, "See? None of this would've been possible if I were the one raising you. So, darling, I don't have any regret leaving you and your siblings. It was the best decision I've ever made."

"Laura!" Ain't Lara steps between us, and I'm too stunned to fuel my rage when heartache takes me back to everything we've gone through upon her decision to leave.

Is she even aware of what she's saying now?

"What?" she resorts. "It's the truth, right? I did my part. I sent them allowance whenever, and that's all I could do. I'm truly sorry, Ara, that I'm that kind of a mother. It's what I am, and there's no reason for me to justify my reasons to you."

She's hurt me before, but this one pains me even worse. She's not here today to stay. She's only here to leave—once again!

"Why? Because you gave another family that needs you more than we do?" I snap. Her eyes falter when I grab her hand to prove my point. "So, you're married? And what else? Did you get another child after abandoning us?"

She yanks her hand back. "Yes, I'm married. Happily married, and I do have another child. You wanna know why I'm here? Well... my husband and I are here on vacation and it happened to be your graduation day. In the end, Ara, you're better off without me. As I said, I don't regret leaving this place because it was the best decision for everyone."

I can't believe her. Does she think it was for the best? Has she gone insane?

Tears fall down my face, and I put no effort into repulsing the will of pain. So I don't stop myself from crying, and she doesn't seem to care at all even when our eyes meet and she sees the pain she's caused me for years.

How crueler can she get?

Is she even my real mom?

"In that case, you shouldn't have returned at all!" Jake's voice takes us by surprise.

I turn around briskly.

Jake approaches us stealthily. I wipe my tears, questing for my inner equilibrium. This is the last thing I wanted; for anyone else to hear this unpleasant conversation.

"Jake..." Mom utters, shocked.

"Just go back to wherever you came from, Laura. We're also happy, as you can see. Don't ruin it!" Jake deadpans, staring straight into her bewildered eyes.

Her confidence melts instantly, and it doesn't take much intelligence to realize that she's been acting with me all along. With Jake she can't seem to mask her true feelings—her guilt, remorse, and possibly the motherly love showing through her eyes are the moment—the same way she's been doing so far.

"Leave us alone. Especially Isla. Don't come here pretending to be someone you're not because we won't let you!" Jake tells her coldly.

I don't know when he grew up this much, but he makes me feel stronger. He's become a pillar I could depend on in times of turmoil.

An intense silence engulfs the air as everyone eyes Laura. In the end, she breaks into a smile of defeat and takes a step toward Jake.

"You've grown up well, Jake. You're very handsome too," she says softly, and I can tell how touched Jake is despite his anger. "Fine, I'll take my leave. I didn't come here to cause any trouble."

"Good. The door is open," Jake mutters.

The last thing I hear from our mother is "Congratulations for having your first degree. Even if you don't believe it, I'm very happy for you, darling. Take care." Her hand brushes against my cheek, the kind of touch my skin barely remembers.

And off she leaves. Probably for good. She leaves me in new pain as I was slowly adjusting to the old wound she'd painfully inflicted.

What do I make out of this? What are we to her? Are we just a mistake she badly wanted to erase? Or are we just a burden she's happy to live without?

I spend the whole day in my bed, unable to eat or sleep. So many things run through my mind, and I wonder why she came here at all if she wasn't going to stay. For Isla's sake, I wanted her to say sorry, to beg us to let her get closer to Isla at the very least.

But no, she chose to abandon us once again. She chose her other family over us. God knows if we have any place in her heart as her children. How often does she even think of us? How does she sleep at night knowing we're somewhere she's not?

___

Adrian calls me nonstop but I don't feel like talking to anyone. I dwell on memories, trying to gather everything good while discarding anything bitter. I think of our dad, of how sweet and wonderful he used to be with us, and I regret that he didn't have enough time with Jake and Isla.

His death was too sudden, and they were too young.

With an album of old photos on my lap, I laugh and cry at the same time. I remember how tiny Isla was when our mom left. She had just turned one, her round eyes big and bright. And Jake was probably ten; what a memory he has to still remember our mom's face until now.

He probably saw some pictures we hid away so that Isla wouldn't ask questions. Now how can I tell her that the same woman who introduced herself as Aunt Laura is our mother? That she left us for reasons only she understands? And that she doesn't regret doing so?

My phone chirps. A text from Adrian.

*Pick up my call, Arabella! Whatever it is, I want to be there for you.

"Before you scold me," I utter as soon as I'm on the phone, "I have something to say."

I hear his sound breath, and I know he's partly pissed. "What is it?" he exhorts.

"I don't want you to stay here," I tell him.

A deafening silence is a response I receive from him. I swallow tightly, fully aware that it was the last thing he expected to hear from me.

"Adrian," I call him gently. "What I mean is—"

"Why?" he asks, finally responding to my previous remark.

"Well... It's because I'm the one who wants to leave this place. I don't want to live here, Adrian. I'm taking my siblings away and we're going to live anywhere but here." I think I've made up my mind.

I want to start over, and the only thing I can do is move away. I want a new life.

"In that case... Come with me to New York, Arabella," Adrian says after a long pause of silence. My heart ticks, especially when he adds, "Jake and Isla too. Let's take care of them together. You and me."