Jilted by Niko Michelle

Author:Niko Michelle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

If my life were a TV show, it would be an uncensored version of Jerry Springer. I thought I had reached my lowest point, but I was wrong. More hurt latched on to me like a spray tan, turning me Smurf-blue somber.

Oakley was my half-sister. Was I saying that right? It tasted like vomit in my mouth. The same mouth that coached her through delivering my neph . . . I couldn’t say it in a complete sentence. Nor in bits and pieces.

The door to my bedroom creaked. My dad stuck his head in. “Hey, sweetheart.” There was sadness in his slow greeting, and rightfully so. He had just found out his wife was a liar.

I kept my head buried between my knees. I didn’t want to look at my dad because I didn’t want to see what I heard. Shame painted my face like makeup from a mall counter run by a clown. I was ashamed because I just had to prove a point that caused more devastation.

I thought maybe my mother paid Oakley to stay away from me. But then again, she would have never been gracious enough to do that on my behalf.

A sister.

A baby.

That baby belonged to my ex-fiancé. Imagine if we had gotten married. I would be a stepmother and an aunt. Forget Jerry. We needed our own reality show.

“I’m so sorry, Dad. I should have never looked in her phone.”

“This is not your fault. You hear me?”

I didn’t believe him, so I lied. “Yes, sir.”

“Your brothers are here. Come downstairs. You can express yourself all you want.”

There was no need to express my feelings. I wore them. At least, that was what I saw when I looked in the mirror. My hair was disheveled, eyes practically bloodshot and swollen, and snot ran from my nose like it was the spawn of Usain Bolt.

After I’d exposed the devil, she followed my dad to their room, begging to explain. Yelling had come from their locked bedroom for about three hours. I’d run to my room and three-way called my brothers. Anthony had quoted some philosophical passage, and Amil had dropped the F-bomb, the S-bomb, the A-bomb, the D-bomb, and if he could have, he’d have set off roach bombs, because he’d referred to the devil as a roach during his rant.

I descended the staircase the same way I felt—heavy. Burden increased my weight and caused a thunderous echo to follow each time my foot connected with a stair. When I rounded the corner, Anthony and Amil sat side by side on the sofa, carrying the same weight. My dad sat in his usual spot, a rocking chair that had lost its rock. He never sat in that chair that still. His head drooped like a plant, days shy of total dehydration. The devil looked frazzled. Strands of her hair pointed in every direction. I’d never seen her cry before, but her bottom lip quivered as she dabbed her tears with a wad of tissue.

I didn’t speak to her or my brothers, nor did they speak to me.

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