Beneath my scars, pt. 7

Published October 1, 2023
Rae
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beneath my scars

Gabriel and Tracy entered their home, the tension palpable in the air. Tracy wasted no time in addressing the issue that had been bothering her brother. “Gabriel,” she began, her voice gentle yet probing, “why can’t you just let Isabelle be? It’s been months since the incident with your guitar.”

Gabriel’s expression darkened as he clenched his fists. “Tracy, you don’t understand. She destroyed my guitar – my most prized possession. How can I just let that slide?”

Tracy sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I get it, Gabe. But holding onto this anger and resentment is only hurting you. Maybe it’s time to consider forgiving her and moving on.

Gabriel looked at Tracy, torn between his emotions. “You think it’s that easy? She hasn’t even apologized.”

Tracy’s voice softened. “I’m not saying it’s easy, but holding onto this grudge won’t bring your guitar back.”

Gabriel let out a frustrated breath, his shoulders sagging as he sank onto the couch. “I just can’t believe she did that, Tracy. It wasn’t just a guitar to me. It was a gift”

Tracy sat down beside him, her voice gentle. “I know it meant a lot to you, but is it worth letting this eat away at you? You’ve always been the bigger person, Gabe.”

He looked at his sister, his anger mixed with a hint of vulnerability. “I tried talking to her once about it, you know. But she acted like it was no big deal, like she didn’t even care.”

Tracy reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “People change, Gabe. Maybe she’s realized her mistake by now. It’s worth giving her a chance.”

Gabriel stared at the floor for a moment, deep in thought. “I’ll think about it, Tracy. But if she’s truly sorry, she’s got to show it.”

Tracy smiled, her eyes filled with warmth. “That’s the spirit, Gabe. Forgiveness can be tough, but it can also bring you peace.”

* * *

Isabelle sat alone at home, engrossed in a book. The doorbell’s chime shattered her focus, and she opened the door to a sight that left her stunned. Standing before her was her mother, Mrs. Fletcher.

Isabelle’s voice trembled as she spoke, her shock evident. “Mom, what are you doing here? How did you find out where I live?”

Mrs. Fletcher’s expression was a mix of remorse and desperation. “Isabelle, I’m sorry. I know I messed up. I want to fix things between us.”

Isabelle’s eyes welled up with emotion as years of pain resurfaced. “You can’t just show up and expect everything to be okay. You hurt me deeply, Mom.”

Mrs. Fletcher’s voice quivered as she took a step forward. “I regret my actions, Isabelle. I truly do. I want to make amends.”

Tears streamed down Isabelle’s face. “You don’t understand the pain you caused. I can’t forgive you just like that.”

Mrs. Fletcher reached out, but Isabelle backed away. “Please, Isabelle, give me a chance.”

Isabelle’s voice steadied as she spoke with determination. “If you ever come to my door again uninvited, I won’t hesitate to get a restraining order. I need my space and peace.”

The gravity of Isabelle’s words hung in the air as Mrs. Fletcher nodded, tears in her eyes. “I understand. I’ll go now. But please know that I truly want to make things right.”

As Mrs. Fletcher turned to leave, Isabelle closed the door, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions. The encounter had reopened wounds she had tried to heal, leaving her uncertain about the future and whether forgiveness was truly possible.

Isabelle sat by the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass. The encounter with her mother had stirred up emotions she had tried so hard to suppress.

She picked up her phone and hesitated for a moment before dialing a number she hadn’t called in a long time. The phone rang a few times before a voice answered on the other end. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Isabelle said softly, her voice quivering. “It’s me, Isabelle.”

There was a pause on the line before the voice responded with surprise, “Isabelle? Is that really you?”

Tears welled up in Isabelle’s eyes as she spoke, her voice breaking. “Yeah, it’s me. I… I want to talk.”

The voice on the other end sounded cautious yet hopeful. “I’ve been waiting to hear from you for a long time.”

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