Fighting for her (Novak series #1) {Completed}

12. Let go

Hope’s POV

Have you ever wondered what choices you could make differently and how they would affect your life? I have, infinitely many times. Take Freddie as an example; if I chose not to go out with him, would things have been better or worse? If I stopped taking care of Farris several years ago, would he realize his problems?

I don’t know, and it’s that uncertainty that annoys me the most, mainly because I may have worsened my life without being aware of it. For me, it’s a scary thought, and I don’t know if it’s even worth thinking about or not. Although I could possibly have made other choices, there were also always circumstances I couldn’t change.

My mother’s choice to leave us is an example. She took the active choice to be selfish when she drastically left her husband and two children behind. I still don’t know why she left. It still torments me not to understand why our own mother didn’t want us but instead moved on without looking around a single time.

Yet people are puzzled over why I don’t trust other people. Is it really strange? In my world, it’s far from abnormal but somewhat clearer than ever; that person who should’ve cared for and loved us no matter what stupid choices we made wanted nothing to do with us.

After all, it’s a parent’s job to love their children through both heaven and hell. But for some reason, the woman who gave me life doesn’t feel the same. Even though I’m afraid I disagree with her mindset, I still respect it. Not everyone thinks the same, and it must be that way, no matter what we might think of it.

After all, that’s the power struggle in life, isn’t it? A battle between right and wrong, good and evil? The choices we make today can have devastating consequences in the future without us being at all aware that we’re the cause for it. A scary but at the same time beautiful thought if you ask me.

To take missteps is to learn from your mistakes; to live is to dare to die. Although I respect Farris and our mother’s choices, I don’t think I’m capable of ever forgiving them for what they’ve done. When it comes to myself, it doesn’t matter much; they destroyed me a long time ago.

But Jessie has needed a mom and dad. Instead, one disappeared while the other got drunk as a consequence of it. Not everyone has the privilege of growing up with two stable parents, or even one, and we belong to the small crowd that had neither. I’ve done everything to keep us both alive, and I often feel like I failed.

We grew up in a society that doesn’t give a crap about those who have no money. It’s because we have been lucky that we didn’t end up in a foster care system that doesn’t work. Nobody cares about children like us, who don’t have an adult to turn to for security and love. I’ve been playing social worker since I was nine years old.

Maybe that’s why a tear falls on my cheek when Mrs. Novak’s sons come into the bedroom with drawings they made at school for me. Oskar and Will are twins, the youngest children. Mrs. Novak has explained that Will is undergoing investigation for a possible illness and that they worry that he’ll become depressed.

However, I don’t notice any signs of his possible illness or depression, given that he happily explains what he has named all the animals at the zoo he painted. Oscar waits patiently with a smile on his face for Will to finish talking. The boys know that Will may be ill, and according to Mrs. Novak, Oscar is incredibly protective of his little brother.

“It’s an amazing drawing you painted, Will,” I say, kissing his forehead softly. “Thank you so much for choosing to give it to me!”

Will gets a faint pink color on his cheeks; that’s the most significant thing you can hope for in his condition. Oscar nervously looks down at his hands and doesn’t meet my gaze, as if he has done something wrong that I’ll be angry about. I tilt my head to the side and look at him with a big smile.

“What is it, Oscar? You don’t have to show your drawing if you don’t want to, and if you’d rather keep it yourself, it’s all right,” I say, and when he registers the words, our eyes meet.

“I want you to have it, but I’m afraid you won’t like it,” he says quietly, looking shamefully down on his hands again.

“Look at me, Oscar,” I say, waiting until he lifts his head. “There’s nothing in this world that can make me dislike anything that you or your brother have done for me. The fact that you want to share these masterpieces with me at all, I take as a big compliment.”

He looks down at his drawing one last time before putting it on my lap. I look down and see four people on the paper who appear to be standing in a garden full of apple trees. For being only eight years old, the drawing is incredibly detailed, and over time I can guarantee that Oscar will be able to create unique paintings if he sticks to it.

“Wow, Oscar,” I say, smiling big. “It’s great! But who are the people in the garden here?”

“You’re pushing Camilla on the swing under the tree there, and that’s Darby,” he replies, pointing to a man who seems to be playing football.

“Then who is that?” I ask, pointing to a small person running after the ball. “It’s your baby that you and Darby may have in the future.”

I stiffen when I realize what he’s saying. This little boy wants me to have a baby with his big brother, and I hardly know anyone in the family. Is it wishful thinking because Oscar likes babies, or is something else spinning around in his little brain?

“Why would we have a baby, Oscar? Your brother and I barely know each other. The only reason I know your parents at all is that I used to water your flowers when your family was on vacation when I was a kid,” I explain, and he looks at me uncertainly again.

“I heard them talking about you,” he replies, looking up at me from hooded eyes. “Darby thinks you’re beautiful and thinks you don’t like him, because he isn't good enough. I think he’s alone without a mommy to Mila. Please stay with my brother. He needs someone nice, like you.”

I’m completely speechless. Sweet, darling, little Oscar worries that his big brother is alone and that Camilla will now have to grow up without a mother. It’s adorable that he thinks so, but as I said, I hardly know Darby or the others. Going from barely knowing each other to having a baby requires quite a few steps in between.

“It’s not quite that simple, my heart,” says a voice from the door, and Mrs. Novak enters the room with a smile on her lips. “For two people to decide to have a baby, they need to get to know each other first, become friends, and see if their feelings can turn into romance. In addition, you rarely have babies with someone you just got together with either. Most people want to try being together for a couple of years before they even start thinking about it.”

“Oh,” Oscar says quietly, looking down at his hands quickly before our glances meet yet again. “I’m sorry, Hope.”

“No, don’t be sad, Oscar. It’s very nice that you think about your big brother and want him to be happy in his life. Unfortunately, it’s exactly as your mother says, and I have Jessie to take care of,” I respond, ignoring any thought that maybe I’ll never be able to provide the stability a child deserves. “Thank you so much, both of you, for your lovely drawings. You’ve made my day much better.”

The boys smile and run, giggling out of the room while Mrs. Novak sits down in the armchair next to the bed. She slowly raises her hand, and I don’t immediately understand why until she wipes a tear that falls unnoticed over my cheek. I feel confused about the grief in my chest because I’m not quite sure where it comes from.

“You have nice boys,” I finally say, and Mrs. Novak smiles big while she nods.

“I have, don’t I? I haven’t made many good choices in life, but my children are choices I never wish undone,” she replies, and I feel the pain in the chest intensifying by the words. “I don’t think your parents did either.”

“You don’t have to cover it up. I know the truth; I always have. Our parents regret having children; it’s as simple as that. And no matter how painful it is to know about it, it’s something we must accept as part of our lives.”

“Hope, no,” Mrs. Novak says and sits down on the bed next to me. “Deep down, your parents love you; it’s impossible not to love their children.”

“Yet here we are,” I reply with a forced smile on my face and tears falling down my cheeks. “My dad couldn’t even take care of his s**t on his own, and now I had to pay the price for it.”

“I’m not asking you to either accept or forgive what he has done, but believe me when I say that no matter how many mistakes Farris makes, you’ll always be his little girl in one way or another.”

“I have never been his little girl and never will be either. He made his choice, and I’m tired of trying to clean up after him when it’s so obvious it’s just a waste of time. He will never stop. My own father couldn’t even stop for me, despite everything I’ve done to help him understand that he has kids at home who love him, and I don’t know why we do it, despite all the s**t he does. I don’t even know why I cry; he’s never there for me and doesn’t deserve my tears, so...”

“It’s okay to be in pain, Hope. Your father has betrayed you in the most terrible way imaginable, and you’ve got the right to feel anger, sadness, or whatever emotions you want. A person who was supposed to be your support pillar became your opponent instead. Don’t let him be the reason for your downfall too.”

I already know this from our last conversation, and it feels like a rehearsal. At the same time, I realize that maybe that’s what I need, repeating all the bad memories of times he let me down, actually to understand that I can’t help him. I can’t save my dad from his addiction because he doesn’t want to get help.

My tears continue to fall down my cheeks, but this time I don’t wipe them away but let the sadness disappear out of me. I have to let it out, or I can never get through this. Someone gently knocks on the door, and Darby comes in with Camilla in his arms. We don’t exchange words; he walks up to the edge of the bed and hands over his girl to me.

“Hello, beautiful, Mila,” I say quietly, hugging her against my chest.

“Please, Hope,” Darby prays, and our glances meet. “Tell me what he did.”

“He didn’t do s**t, as usual. Instead of taking responsibility for the s**t he created, I had to pay for it again. He wasn’t even there, but the people he owned money was,” I reply, looking back at the child in my arms. “You’re lucky, little girl, because you have a dad who actually cares.”

A/N:

Hello everyone!

Hope finally begins to understand seriously that it’s impossible to help a person who doesn’t accept the help offered. Hopefully, she can now focus more on living instead of ensuring that everyone else around survives.

~ Are her emotions weird?

~ If you had the opportunity to meet Hope, what would you say to her?

~ What would you say to Darby?

~ What would you say to Farris?

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, even though it took longer than expected again to update. Hugs and kisses!