Ash finds out about the truth that was hidden by her parents
I crouched down below the living room window and hid myself behind the bush that was planted there. The window was opened and I could hear my mother’s voice as she was talking to her friends. They were all facing her with open eyes and open mouths.
“No wonder!” Olivia, my mother’s manager/best friend exclaimed. Her voice was annoying and when she exclaimed that, her voice sounded like a cat in pain after losing a fight with a rocking chair. “He’s not yours?”
“You adopted him?” Someone else exclaimed.
“Yes, when Noah and I were on our honeymoon in South Korea. We decided to adopt because we believed that I couldn’t get pregnant and we ended up finding a poor young woman with a baby. She gave up the baby and we adopted him within the next few months. The poor woman had gotten pregnant when she was sixteen and had to work and she end up getting sick. When we took the baby, we graciously gave her money for medicine, and would you know it,” she paused for a second to look at the other women, “the poor girl died a year after we took the boy with us. I tell you it was sad but we are grateful for her because we had Jalen.”
“And you then got pregnant with Astrid, right?”
“Yep!” My mother said, “That is why we never corrected the kids when they would say that they wanted to get married!”
The crowd of women answered her statement with a giant “Oh”.
“Yep! Jalen back then was something like ‘Hyeon-woo’ or whatever, something we can’t remember.” My mother said with a like bragging voice. The women however didn’t hear her say this because they were excited for this piece of information.
I had had enough of hearing this and backed up away from the window. For an odd reason, I had the urge to cry and as soon as I was away from the window, I ran to hide from everyone. I felt guilt for some odd reason and when I found the perfect spot to cry; I cried endlessly.
“Ash?” I looked up to see Jay walking towards me, “You okay? What’s wrong?” He sat down in front of me and put his hands on both sides of my face, “did you get hurt? Dad said that he saw you running and got concerned.”
I didn’t answer him at all, instead I moved forward and sat in his lap and cried against his chest. We sat together as he let me cry until I fell asleep. That night he carried me to sleep in his room. It might have been a dream but I remember him whispering to me that he loved me and that it’s okay.
Today, even as a young adult, I cannot remember why I cried like I did that day. It only leaves me questioning myself and my sanity on that day.
Later that year was my parents’ divorce which ended with my brother staying with my mother and me, moving with my dad.