Their traded family

20. Silence

Hope's P.O.V

I clutched the armrest of the couch so hard that some of my fingernails had chipped off and started bleeding. I'd started crying at one point, but my body and soul felt so numb that I couldn't even remember when.

The things Alana had gone through...

And there was more. I could see it in her eyes, in the way she was just letting us take a breather before she continued.

I looked away from her, unable to take it anymore. Almost everyone was crying, even uncle Zane had shed a couple tears, but not Alana. It was as if the story she was telling was just that - a story - and not her own life. It was as if she couldn't remember how to feel anymore, and for a second I had to wonder if it was better that way. If she was better off not feeling at all.

Ruby was looking down, I observed as I continued to let my gaze stray from my birth mother. She was staring at her feet as if wondering whether or not they could still carry her far enough away not to listen to this. Liv was looking at aunt Dali and her dad. She wanted to hold her mom, comfort her, perhaps even shut Alana up once and for all to stop her mother's sobs, yet uncle Knox was making sure she remained silent and in her seat.

My mother looked troubled, shaken even, but she was not crying. I wondered if she'd just seen her fair share of horrible situations and stories, or if she really hated my birth mother so much that not even the abuse she endured was enough to make her soften toward the female.

It had certainly softened me up to her. I still held some resentment, I didn't think that would ever go away, for leaving me when she was alive, but I also understood. Even before she began talking, I understood, but now...

"I-I need a second," Aunt Dali gasped, clutching her shirt, right up there where her heart was, tightly between her fingers. Uncle Knox jumped up after her, as did Liv, but with a pleading look from his mate, uncle sat and made sure their daughter remained seated, too, even if they both hated it.

"We should probably all rest for the night and continue tomorrow," aunt Sofia suggested, her soft voice drawing all of our gazes toward her. "I had the Omegas prepare rooms for everyone." Uncle nodded at his mate and kissed the top of her head, standing. My parents stood too, then my cousins, then uncle Knox, until all who remained seated were me, my mate, and my birth mother.

"Hope," mom called, "let's go!" There was an edge to her tone that I wasn't used to hearing. At least not when I'd done nothing wrong.

"In a bit," I replied, mom taking a step closer to me and away from dad, her gaze shifting from me to Alana.

"Hope," her warning was clear, as was the hate in her eyes toward my birth mother. I didn't think she realised it, but even if I wanted to, my legs were too wobbly to keep me upright. And, well, I didn't want to move yet. "Fine, do whatever you want," she spun on her heel and left, my heart shrinking inside my chest. I hated when she was mad at me, especially if I couldn't quite figure out why.

"Dad?" My voice cracked slightly. It was bound to happen when I'd spent several hours crying, but was embarrassing nonetheless.

"Stay as long as you need, pumpkin, I'll talk to your mom." Dad gave me a hug, glared at Owen, who just smirked in return, and left, albeit seething, just like mom.

And then there were three. And silence. Lots and lots of uncomfortable silence.

"She'll come around," Alana's voice startled me. Sure, I'd heard it for however long she'd been talking for, but when she wasn't telling her story, well, she didn't strike as one who made random small talk, not that I blamed her. If I'd gone through half of what she had, I wouldn't want to talk to anybody for the rest of my life.

"What?" I squeaked.

"Your mother," she explained patiently, "she'll come around. I saw that it hurt you when she appeared mad." It was a statement, not comforting words, and I had to wonder whether she knew how to be comforting. Or comforted.

"Oh."

There was so much I wanted to say to her. So much I wanted to talk about. There was so much out of my life that she'd missed, that I thought she was looking down at me from above for, when she'd been here all along, and now that I had the opportunity to speak to her, to tell her of all I couldn't even picture being able to tell her about, all I could say was ‘oh’.

Silence stretched between us again, broken only by Owen shuffling closer to me. Impossibly closer, since he'd been so already. When I sent him a glare however, even though I secretly loved the attention from him and so did my wolf, he just grinned, and although it looked like the grin of a killer before they striked and not anything like boyish charm that I'd imagined my mate would have, it was his most genuine smile yet.

"Owen," I mumbled, my cheeks heating at the sound of his low, approving growl. The look on his face was of pure bliss. "What?" I couldn't help but ask.

"My name sounds beautiful on your lips, clover." Goddess, I could feel myself getting redder. How would I survive living with this wolf for the rest of my life without having a stroke? And no, wolves didn't have those. Not unless they had an Owen.

Alana cleared her throat from behind us, and I startled again, almost jumping off the couch. Today had been exhausting, my mind on complete overdrive at this point.

"Could you," I began, rubbing my neck awkwardly, "could you leave us?" All traces of bliss and grins, even predatory ones, vanished from my mate's face, his eyes darkening, but he got up.

"I'll see you soon, mate." Owen said as the door closed behind him, leaving me and Alana alone.

Why had I thought it would be a good idea to be alone with her? I certainly couldn't remember as the minutes ticked by with nothing but silence between us.

"Will it hurt?" I blurted out, cursing myself for the idiotic question but knowing it was too late to take it back. "The rest of your... story?"

"No," she replied, "it won't. Not me."

"What about me?" I blurted again. I would really like to blame my awkwardness on the fact that I'd found my mate and my supposedly dead mother in one day, but it seemed like those two just pulled idiotic words and reactions out of me.

"Why would it hurt you?" Genuine curiosity in her voice and nothing more.

"Well," I swung my arms between us before dropping them at my sides, "because I care?" My words were as much of a question for me as they were for her.

Did I want to care? - they asked - or did I want her to tell me that she cared about me?

"Do you? Care?" Alana sounded baffled. She sounded like no one had ever cared before, at least not for her well-being. "You shouldn't." She said when I didn't answer, and I physically flinched. "I'm fine." It was probably easy for her to say she was fine, to mean it, too. I had no idea where she lived now or what her life looked like, but it probably wasn't fine if she had to pretend she was dead for twenty years. Still, I found myself wishing it was true with my entire heart.

"But I do appreciate it, that you care."

"Yeah," I said awkwardly. She shouldn't have to thank me, or anyone, for caring about her. And, well, I wasn't sure if I should care about her at all.

I may not blame her for wanting to abandon me after what I'd heard about her life, but it didn't meant that she didn't, or that it didn't hurt.

"We should go check up on aunt Dali." My birth mother nodded and stood, maybe just to avoid talking to me, and from my aunt's scent and the sound of her tears, we found her easily.

At the sight of us, she wiped her face with shaking hands and stood from her seat, the cold air making her shiver once the blanket dropped from her shoulders. The blanket that, once my uncle figured out he couldn't make her leave the terrace she was sitting on, he no doubt slipped over her. It wasn't like she was shivering from being cold, or that she would get cold, being a wolf and all, but the action was sweet nonetheless.

"Hi," she mumbled shakily. Instead of replying, I bulldozed straight into her arms, letting her hold me tight as I rubbed her back, Alana watching us as she leaned against the rail.

"Are you alright?" I asked, my aunt kissing the top of my head before she nodded.

"Yeah, it was just overwhelming to be reminded of..." she trailed off, but my birth mother and I both understood what she was trying to say.

My aunt met her sister's gaze and a wobbly smile covered her features. Behind the pain and how overwhelming today had been, there was such genuine joy and love when she saw her sister.

"I'll let you catch up," I kissed my aunt and began to step away when my gaze caught Alana's. I couldn't kiss her like I did my aunt, and she didn't look like the hugging type. How was I supposed to say goodnight to her?

Putting me out of my misery, she ran a hand down my arm, the log in my throat becoming thicker. It was the most normal thing - standing here with my birth mother and my aunt, the first running her hand down my arms. It was a loving gesture, almost motherly, and it made life all the more unfair. If her life had not been hell since she was just five years old, if Julian had not forced himself on her, then maybe when we stood on this terrace, just the three of us, the gesture could’ve really been taken as motherly. Maybe she could've been my mother.

"Goodnight, Hope," she murmured, my eyes glowing with unshed tears. I. Would. Not. Lose. It. I would not force her to spend time with me, to be anything close to a mother figure, when she clearly didn't want to be. I wouldn't make her feel guilty for selfishly wanting to see her suffer over me as much as I was over her.

She'd suffered enough, and I had parents. Parents who were waiting for me to go to bed because they worried over me and safety. They had worried over me and my safety my entire life.

And it still didn't hurt any less when I looked at Alana and a small voice inside me wished I could be more than a stranger to her.

So I fled without saying anything, stopping only when I was a decent distance away. And then I broke down, sliding against a wall until I was once again hugging my knees and sobbing silently into the night because I didn't know what to feel or think anymore, and it was killing me.

"Sorry," I heard Alana say. I guessed I wasn't that far away, after all. "I don't like to be touched."

"Right," aunt Dali said. Could her sister hear the pain in her voice? "I understand. I just, seeing you, and you're not dead..."

I forced myself to breathe as I listened in to their conversation. It was wrong and I knew it, but I couldn't stop.

"I've missed you so much, Ali," my aunt continued.

"It's Lana now, Dali." Another sob left my aunt.

"Not Didi anymore, huh?" One more sob escaped before she pulled herself together. "Sorry. I'm-I'm a mess... Lana. I, seeing you..."

"I know."

Silence fell again. That damned silence that id gotten so much of today.

"You should go to bed," Alana told her sister.

"I thought," I could picture aunt's face at the moment as she shook her head, hurt and confused, and my heart broke even more because I felt the same way but I knew neither of us would be brave enough to voice that thought. "Anyway. Yeah, yeah I'll go to bed. I just, never mind."

I jumped up, ready to run to my room so the two didn't know I'd been listening in the whole time, when my birth mother's words healed a tiny broken piece inside my chest.

"I've missed you too, Dali. And... thank you for keeping her safe for me."

A/N

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