Reunion and Secrets

Lilith Aurelia,

As I pushed open the front door, a wave of relief washed over me at the familiar sight of my mother standing there. She'd returned from her business trip, and her presence felt like a soothing balm for my weary soul. I'd missed her more than I realized.

"Darling, why are you so late today?" my mom inquired with concern etched across her face as she took in the state of disarray I was in. Her eyes zeroed in on the bruises, and she immediately grasped the gravity of the situation. "What's with those bruises, darling? Did you, perhaps, get into another fight?" The worry in her voice was palpable.

"Mom…" I whispered, my voice tinged with exhaustion, "I missed you so much." Rushing forward, I embraced her tightly, burying my face in her shoulder. The warmth of her presence enveloped me, and for a moment, I felt like I could let my guard down. "You know, today was a really long day," I admitted.

My mom tenderly patted my head, understanding the unspoken words beneath my embrace. She knew that some experiences were too heavy to be shared immediately, that time and trust were essential ingredients in revealing the turmoil I'd encountered.

"Yeah, you should explain to me what happened while I was away, Lili," my mom said with genuine concern. She'd always been a gentle and caring person, and the deep lines of worry etched on her face emphasized the worry she felt for her daughter.

"Okay, Mom, later," I replied, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "But first, I need a shower." I couldn't bring myself to recount the day's events just yet. I needed a moment to gather my thoughts and emotions, and I didn't want to dampen the joy of our reunion with the troubling tales of the outside world.

***

In the soothing ambiance of our cozy dining room, I savored every spoonful of the delicious fried rice my mother had prepared. Her homemade fried rice had always been my favorite comfort food, a reminder of her unwavering love and care.

When she come back from a business trip, she like to give holidays to the people who work at our home, and my grandma goes to visit your uncle. So it's just my mom and me. Our small family felt even cozier without the usual commotion.

"So, what about Dad, Mom? Why isn't he here?" I asked, looking at the empty seat across the table where my father usually sat. His absence had become a common occurrence, one that I was reluctant to question.

My mother paused, her face tinged with sadness, and a sense of weariness settled in her eyes. "Ah, yes, Lili," she sighed, placing the dishes aside. "Your father mentioned that he had some work matters to attend to at the office. He's been much occupied lately. But he'll be back next week."

Despite the explanation, my heart ached with the absence of my father, and I couldn't help but worry about the toll his constant work had taken on our family. I decided to push these concerns aside for now, not wanting to add to my mother's burdens.

"Yummy… I always love your fried rice more than anything else I eat," I said with a grateful smile, attempting to lighten the mood.

My mother's face brightened with appreciation, and the two of us settled into a comfortable conversation, discussing school and upcoming plans, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy even amidst the unspoken troubles that loomed in the background.

As the evening waned and our dinner concluded, my mother suggested, "Why don't we watch a movie tonight, Lily?" The idea appealed to me, as it was a chance to create pleasant memories in the midst of a chaotic world.

We delved into the movie, each moment creating a shared bond between mother and daughter. The film was captivating, and we lost track of time until the early hours of the morning.

With the credits rolling, I realized my exhaustion and the strain the day had placed on my body. My muscles ached, my body felt numb, and my heart raced with pent-up anxiety. "My mother is sleeping peacefully on the sofa," I thought as I observed her serene face, illuminated by the soft glow of the TV. She was tired, more than I could ever imagine, after her business trip and the worries she bore.

I didn't want to burden her with my own troubles. I knew she carried her share of worries, and so I gently placed a blanket over her sleeping form, careful not to wake her. Slowly, I retreated to my room, my sanctuary from the tumultuous world outside.

Once in the privacy of my room, I locked the door. The soft click of the lock was like a seal on the world, a barrier between me and the disquieting thoughts and experiences I carried.