Chapter 11 leaving home

"Do you want to go out for something to eat?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly, breaking the cloak of silence that had enveloped us both. The air felt heavy with unspoken words, and I was treading carefully, afraid of breaking something fragile.

"But isn't your mother going to bring food soon?" my aunt inquired, her eyebrow raised in a mild expression of confusion. She cast a curious glance downward, where my head was comfortably nestled on her thighs.

"I... I want to talk to you," I revealed, lifting my eyes to meet hers. A complex mix of surprise and concern painted her face, perhaps realizing the trembling urgency in my eyes. I was hoping, praying that she would accept my invitation. There were so many things I needed to unload, things about my parents, about how they were betraying each other.

"It's okay," she murmured after a moment, giving a slight nod. A small glimmer of empathy shone in her eyes. "Let's go out."

Walking side by side, I could feel the tension in my body slowly dissipating. It was a relief to have someone to share my darkest, most secret thoughts with. I couldn't tell my mother about my parents' web of betrayal – she was at the center of it, one of the people hurting me the most.

And that bastard who dared to call himself my best friend, who was having an affair with my mother... Just thinking about him, a wave of anger surged through my veins. I wanted to scream until my throat hurt, wanted to punch something until I felt pain. But I couldn't. Not here, not now. So I just clenched my fists, nails digging into my palm, and swallowed the anger, forcing myself to keep walking.

We stopped at a charming café on the corner of the street. It was a quiet place with a peaceful and cozy atmosphere, the kind of place where you could sit and talk without being interrupted. My aunt ordered two coffees with a friendly smile for the waitress and led us to an isolated table in the back.

"So," she began, her voice as gentle as the murmur of a brook, "what did you want to tell me?" And I knew it was time to open my heart, to let out the words that had been torturing me inside.

"My parents... they're cheating on each other," I murmured, my words hanging in the air like a delicate confession. My eyes were fixed on the steaming cup of coffee in front of me, like an anchor in the sea of uncertainty around me. The silence that followed was like an abyss, an infinite void that seemed to stretch beyond understanding. Each passing second was like an added weight, making the atmosphere denser with each moment.

Just at that moment, the sound of the outside world burst into our bubble of silence. The waitress, oblivious to the drama unfolding, arrived with our orders. My aunt, whose face had been locked in a perplexed expression until then, took her coffee and brought it to her lips. It might have been an attempt to hide her surprise or perhaps just an unconscious habit. But upon hearing my words, she choked on a sip of hot coffee. I watched, alarmed, as she coughed and recovered.

"Are you okay, Aunt?" I asked, getting up impulsively to fetch some napkins.

"I'm, I'm fine," she replied, waving her hand as if trying to dispel my concern. "The coffee's just a little hot. But... what you just said... is it true?"

I nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief seeping into my chest. Painful as it was, it was almost liberating to finally share with someone the burden I had been carrying alone.

My aunt seemed lost in thought, her gaze distant. I could see surprise and concern in her eyes, probably thinking about my mother, her sister, doing something so unexpected. But then, a strange blush tinged her cheeks, and she looked away for a moment.

She was recalling something, an incident that had left her uncomfortable. The shame dancing in her features, even as she tried to hide it, was so palpable I could almost feel it. It was then that I remembered an incident that had happened some time ago, when she, married, had almost kissed me. I had never thought much about it, but seeing her reaction now made me wonder if it was something that was haunting her.

"Why don't they just get divorced?" I continued, my words coming out as a silent roar. "Even if they don't know about each other... why don't they divorce before they start cheating? Couldn't they have done that? Is it so difficult? What's the difficulty??" I clenched the tablecloth fabric so tightly that my knuckles turned white. "They couldn't have done that? It's something so hard? What's the difficulty??"

My aunt said my name, "Eugene," with a voice full of concern. She reached out and squeezed my hand, a gentle attempt to calm me down. "Anger won't help you now," she reminded me, her eyes filled with a kind of sadness I had never seen before.

"I'm going to talk to them," I insisted, determination burning in my eyes. "When my father gets home, I'm going to confront them both. They need to know that I know." I could feel a lump in my throat, but I forced the words out. "And I don't want to stay in that house anymore," I added, my voice breaking with emotion. "I don't feel like I belong there. Not anymore."

My aunt fell silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on mine. "Eugene," she said finally, her voice soft but firm. "You are stronger than you think. And you're not alone in this. Remember that, always."

She didn't offer me easy solutions or empty promises. She didn't pretend that everything would be okay or that the pain would disappear overnight. Instead, she offered me the only thing she could – her presence, her understanding, and her promise that she would be with me, no matter what happened. And somehow, that was enough. At least, for now.

She got up from her chair, walking over to me and enveloping me in a warm hug. My head was comfortably nestled between her breasts, as if I were a child seeking comfort. A feeling of solace washed over me, a feeling I hadn't felt in a long time.

"I have an apartment," she began, her voice soft and affectionate. "I bought it before I got married." As she mentioned marriage, a cloud of sadness passed over her eyes. She sighed, holding me tighter against her. "You can live there if you want. I can take care of the bills until you can get on your feet."

I looked at her, surprised. How could I accept something like this? It was too much. I couldn't just move into her apartment and let her pay for everything. I needed to do something, needed to contribute in some way.

"I'll get a job," I said, my voice determined. "I'll take care of the apartment's expenses. You don't have to worry about that."

There was a pause before she responded. "And you? You're not going to stay with your husband after everything that's happened, are you?" The question slipped out before I could restrain myself. It seemed unfair that she had to continue in a marriage that clearly wasn't making her happy.

She looked at me with a gentle expression, her eyes filled with a warmth that made me feel warm inside. "I can find another place to live," she said, her voice sad but determined.

I shook my head, declining her suggestion. "The apartment is yours, Aunt. If anyone should leave, it's me. You can stay there. We can share the place if you want."

She seemed surprised by my offer but also relieved. "Are you sure, Eugene?" She asked, her eyes searching mine for any sign of doubt.

I nodded, my decision made. "Yes, Aunt. I'm sure."

Feeling my phone vibrate, I picked it up. My aunt, who was still hugging me, looked over my shoulder at the message I had received. It was from my mother. In the message, she asked where I was and informed me that my father had arrived home.

I didn't reply. Instead, I turned off the phone screen with two quick taps and took a deep breath. The house, which had once been a safe haven, now felt like nothing more than a cage, a constant reminder of my parents' betrayal. I couldn't go back there, not now that I knew the truth.

I felt two delicate, warm hands on my face, turning my gaze to my aunt. She was holding my face, her eyes locked onto mine. "Eugene," she said, her voice soft, "is this really what you want to do?"

I looked at her, my eyes filled with determination. "Yes," I replied, my voice steady despite the emotion that threatened to choke my words. "I don't want to live in that house anymore."

It was a difficult decision, one that I knew would change my life forever. But somehow, I knew it was the right decision. As much as it hurt, I knew I couldn't continue living in the shadow of my parents' betrayal. I needed to leave, I needed a fresh start.

My aunt nodded, a look of understanding in her eyes. "Okay, Eugene," she said, her tone filled with respect and admiration. "I'll support you, no matter what happens."