* Julliane *
Leaving wasn't my decision. No one asked me. And even if her new husband was rich, I never wanted to live with my mother again. Not after everything that happened.
I sat in the back row of the small plane, quietly tucked into the corner while my mother and Mister Dankworth, her new husband, sat up front. They were holding each other like honeymooners, her voice syrupy sweet and too loud for such a small space. It was like the rest of the passengers didn't exist. Like I didn't exist. She didn't even glance at me, didn't ask how I was doing, even though it was my first time flying. Not a single word from my own mother.
Oddly enough, it was Mister Dankworth who noticed. He turned around once and asked if I needed anything, his tone polite, maybe even kind. But I wasn't in the mood to speak. I just stared out of the small window, watching the endless ocean below. A different kind of silence filled me, heavier than the cabin's.
"Never mind her darling, she's just upset because she misses her grandpa. That old man was closer to her just like her father was."
I heard her murmur towards Mister Dankworth's ears. I just shrugged my shoulders and kept to myself .
When the flight attendant finally announced our descent, I took a deep breath. My fingers clenched the armrest. I had to gather every bit of courage I had. Whatever was waiting on that island, I'd face it.
"I could already see our station wagon, Marianne," I heard Mister Dankworth say to my mother as we stood to disembark. Then he looked over at me with a soft smile. "Walk with us, Julie. Don't stay behind and keep to yourself. A few moments from now, you'll meet my two sons. They're good boys. I'm sure you'll get along."
I gave him a small nod and forced a smile. Then, gently, he took my hand, an unexpected gesture. It wasn't uncomfortable, just warm. Friendly. I could tell there was no ill intent. Still, when I glanced at my mother, I saw her jaw tighten. She didn't like it. She didn't want me close to him.
But I couldn't just pull away, it would've been rude. And besides, for the first time that day, someone actually seemed to care.
As we stepped onto the tarmac, two boys approached us. One was tall and tan, the other slightly shorter and pale. As they came closer, I could tell who they were, Mister Dankworth’s sons. There was a resemblance.
The older one Lance, I'd soon learn, had a look of disapproval etched into his features. His dark eyes scanned us, lingering on my mother's hand around his father's arm. He didn't look happy. Not at all.
"Hey there, boys! Lance and Darren! I'm glad you two came to pick us up from the airport!" Mister Dankworth sounded cheerful, almost proud. But Lance barely acknowledged him.
"I came to drive for you," Lance said sharply. "Darren told me you weren't coming alone."
There was something in his tone controlled, but edged with something sharp. Resentment maybe. His gaze flicked from me to my mother again, cold and unreadable. He was striking in a way that surprised me tall, broad-shouldered, his tan skin golden in the sunlight. Even with his attitude, I couldn't help noticing how handsome he was. His brother, Darren, had their father's complexion, fair and neat, with kind eyes.
"Lance, Darren," Mister Dankworth continued, "I'd like you to meet the new members of our family. Marianne, my wife, and this is Julliane, her daughter. Darling, Julie, these are my boys."
My mother offered them her brightest, most practiced smile. "Hello, boys! I'm very pleased to meet you both."
Darren returned the smile, a little shyly, but Lance gave nothing more than a glance.
Then Darren turned to me. "Hello, Julliane. Sis."
The word caught me off guard. Sis. He said it awkwardly, but not unkindly. I managed a small smile.
"Hi, Darren," I replied, meeting his gaze. He looked like the type who could be a friend, maybe even an ally. He seemed close to my age, probably just a year older. I liked that.
He had his father's softness, whereas Lance looked like he belonged to another family altogether. If I had to guess, Lance took after their mother. He stood with a sort of authority, like he was used to leading, used to deciding things.
And then his voice cut the moment.
"This is your new wife?" Lance said, his eyes narrowing and his tone raised. "Are you serious right now, Dad?"
The anger in his tone was no longer hidden. He looked straight at my mother, then at me, as if we were intruders.
Mister Dankworth stepped in quickly, placing a hand on Lance's shoulder.
"I know it's a surprise, son. But I told you about this months ago. After I started visiting the city more often, this was the reason. I even spoke with Darren, and he said he was alright with it. Why not be happy for me, like your brother is?"
His voice was gentle, careful. He didn't want to push his oldest son further away.
Lance looked at him, jaw clenched. Then he turned to me one last time, and I saw it, plain and clear. He didn't want us here. Not in his house. Not in his life.
"I thought you were joking," Lance said quietly. "I thought this was just another girlfriend thing. But fine, there's a welcome feast at the Villa. You've made your choice."
And with that, he turned his back on all of us and slid into the driver's seat, the door slamming shut behind him like a period on the end of a sentence none of us wanted to hear.
I took a glance at my mother and saw her unaffected, she didn't care if Mister Dankworth's oldest son liked her or not. She is already married to him, I know that's what she's thinking.