11

Darien's POV

When the tears started running down her cheeks, my eyes began to water.

She was in pain. Well ever since I came back and saw the Keturah I left some years ago, I knew she was suffering and struggling, but she was always happy and content infront of everyone including her best friends.

I knew she wasn't deliberately faking it, it was something her mind made her do.

I knew that feeling all too well.

When I came back almost four years ago, I wanted to see her because ever since I left to stay with my uncle, I knew I had offended her and had to ask for her forgiveness.

Honestly, I really knew why I was always picking on her when we were young.

When I saw her at the park after she and her family moved into the hood, I thought she'd be fanning and flirting with me like the way all the other girls our age did.

I knew I was a handsome kid. My braces and my dimples justified that so it wasn't difficult to see girls asking me to be their boyfriend.

I was going to the twins' house the day she came to the hood.

The house they came to occupy had been vacant for almost a year but when she got out of the car to help her mom, I chocked on my breath.

She was so beautiful and what I liked about her was her hair.

It was in a sleek ponytail with nice edges. For a girl our age, she did have long legs making me go red.

I wanted to approach her instantly but I made my ego get to me. I thought she would come to me like all the girls I'd seen but no, she did the opposite.

That's why I was so mean to her at the park, my ego was bruised so I had to pay her back.

It got to a time, I said some hurtful words whenever I saw her thinking that will break her. But she just had this expression on her face like she didn't care.

It continued for a while and got worse when I saw her always peeping through the bush infront of my house. I knew the days she'd show up. It was thrice every week.

I didn't know why she was always there till I told our butler about it and he helped me discover her true intentions.

Honestly I thought she wanted a payback for what I was doing to her but no. She stood there, daydreaming about my house.

The house that looked nice and extremely polish outside but was tainted with violence.

My dad loved fashion ever since he was young and wanted to pursue something there but, he had to carry on with the business his father left him.

So he studied fashion and architecture, weird combination I know but he did both and became a fashion designer and an incredible architect.

My mom was simply in both businesses supporting my father since they got married.

Everything was perfectly fine when I was growing up but things changed when I hit ten.

I always found my dad early in the morning with bruises on his arms and face.

I would ask him about them but he kept on telling me it was nothing.

As a kid, I shrugged it off because I thought he had the bruises from the landsites he'd been working on.

One day when I decided to skip school, I run to my parent's room to let them know but as I got closer, I heard voices and screams.

I thought something bad was happening to them so I opened their door without knocking and what I saw, left me completely mortified and traumatized.

My mom was hitting my father.

Anger wouldn't describe what I was feeling, my dad was on the floor been beaten to a pulp with blood on his face, back and torso.

I screamed and helped my father up who looked totally ashamed, I then realized how he got his bruises.

My mom tried to explain but I'd already seen it for myself.

She was a vile woman. I despised her and didn't want anything to do with her.

As time went on, I thought she would change because of what I had seen and the broken relationship we had but no, it worsened.

She became the dictator of the house and ruled the house with her wicked ways and continued to hit my dad.

This brought my father and I very close.

I begged him to ask for help and seek a divorce but he declined and still came out of his room with new bruises every day.

So I started staying with the twins very often, we played games and did new things and their parents were always happy to have me around.

Their home became my home. It was filled with love, the love I was craving for.

However, it got to a time I felt like I was a burden with me constantly asking to stay over. So I decided to go home that evening but regretted it immediately I came to the house.

My mom was drunk with my dad almost whimpering with his eyed bruised.

I yelled at my mom to stop but she pushed me away telling me to mind my business. I scowled at my dad because I didn't understand why he was letting this happen.

With pain and anger in my eyes, I run with my eyes so moist I didn't see where I was going.

I ended up bumping into Macy; Keturah's mother and I told her everything because I couldn't hold it in anymore.

She helped me and made me sleep in her house that night.

She became my listener.

She'd listen and pray with me, she wanted to go to my house and speak to my parents. But unfortunately my parents are so wealthy that they might file for defamation.

That was why I took the only shot I had.

I stole my father's younger brother's number from his office and called him. I told him I wanted to come spend the holidays not wanting him to know what was happening and immediately after my final exam that semester, I got on a plane to Australia.

It was there I told him everything and he wept. He was furious and scared for his brother, I told him I didn't want to go back because I had lost my parents.

He pledged to help my father and I knew he would.

He encouraged me to go to therapy when my nightmares were uncontrollable and the journey to healing was so hard.

Sometimes I'd explode on him and his wife but they took it slow with me.

They helped me and supported me like I was their own son.

It was a day at my session my therapist asked me a question that brought me back to K.

She asked me what was that one thing that brings me peace amongst everything?

My mind automatically brought out a picture of Keturah. I smiled and told her about the girl I admired so much.

Dr. Davies was the one who made me know I had cherophobia amongst my depression.

Even after all those years I had left my parents, she encouraged me.

Albeit I knew I wasn't fully out of it, I knew I was healing and I was glad. So immediately we finished our session one afternoon, I told her I wanted to go back home and she smiled.

She was proud of me and I was also proud of myself.

I didn't know what I was going to meet over there, but because of her I wanted to go back because she had been my source and path to recovery.

When I got home from my session I told my uncle and he smiled giving me a hug.

He disclosed that my father was finally free from my mom after signing the divorce papers few years ago, and he'd been going to therapy too.

I smiled and wept. After all those years, I thought I'd still be angry at my father for being a coward but I understood him better now.

And I was so glad that he was into therapy just like me.

With shaky hands, I called him for the first time in ten years and we both cried on the phone.

We both apologized over and over again on the phone and smiled at some memories we made together.

He is a good man but just not strong as what every man was portrayed to be in the society and I loved him for who he was.

He wasn't supposed to be bulky for him to be considered a man, he wasn't supposed to be broody or breathe out masculinity to be seen as a man. He was my father the way he was and I loved that.

He told me about a lady he was crushing on in the therapy group he was in.

I tensed a bit but from the way he was speaking, I could tell the lady was a good one.

In a week I had flown back home and met my father. I still spoke with Dr. Davies and had my therapy session online with her.

My father also did his and even introduced his crush to me.

She was the mother I wish I biologically had, the mother I had been craving for. And she came into our lives and took care of me and my dad.

Although I wish she and my dad could give me a sibling, she couldn't due to an unfortunate circumstance but it was okay.

As far as we had her, I had her, I was good.