Thin line between love and hate
Author’s pov
As Larisa's mother failed to hear her daughter's voice or identify who had entered the house, she cautiously reduced the flame of her cooking gas and stepped out of the kitchen. Upon reaching the living room, she discovered the sitting room was empty.
"Where has Larisa gone?" she pondered silently, noticing the open exit door. She proceeded out of the living room and spotted Larisa standing at a distance. Initially, she thought Taylor was beside her, engaged in an argument. However, the closer she approached, the clearer it became that the person standing with her was not Taylor, but an exact replica.
"Believe me, I can swear on anything you want me to..." Dylan's voice trailed off as both he and Larisa were engrossed in their argument, oblivious to Larisa's mother's presence.
"Larisa..." Her words startled them, and they immediately fell silent. Larisa couldn't hide her frustration as she stomped her right foot on the ground.
"You must be Taylor's..."
"Twin brother!" Dylan quickly interjected.
"Wow, you both look strikingly alike," she remarked with a smile on her lips. "Your brother must be in great distress to have sent you to help her out." She glanced at their faces, sensing discomfort on both of them. Dylan attempted to maintain a cheerful demeanor. With neither of them willing to speak in Larisa's mother's presence, she tapped her daughter on the back and returned to the house. Larisa waited until her mother closed the sitting room door before speaking.
"You must be satisfied with what you've done. I told you to leave since you arrived, but you refused." She sounded angrily.
"Listen to me, Larisa," Dylan pleaded, attempting to reach for her right hand, believing that physical contact would help convey his words. However, Larisa swiftly withdrew her hand.
"I'm sorry," he gestured with open arms, encompassing his entire body. "I never told Taylor. Believe me. I left New York and my work to come here and explain and to tell you how innocent I am. There must be something you don't understand."
"For the last time, I want you to leave my house and never return. If you come back, you won't like how I treat you. In fact, I'm the one who stood up for this relationship. At first, you seemed reluctant, as if I was forcing you into it. I brought this relationship to life, and I'm the one who's standing here with you to tell you that it's over and you should not come to my house again."
Dylan fell silent, observing her intently, his mind racing with numerous thoughts. "Should I tell her?" he wondered, struggling to sort out his feelings.
Larisa turned and began walking toward her house when Dylan said with a raised voice,
"Please wait, I have something to tell you." Larisa paused and turned, anticipating that Dylan would confess to informing Taylor about the pregnancy. Dylan approached her, saying,
"I didn't want this relationship, despite being deeply in love with you after that night. You see, several years ago, while we were still in college, Taylor drugged my girlfriend and slept with her. If I were to be in a relationship with you, it would feel like payback to him. That's why I hesitated to ask you out, even though I was in love with you."
Larisa's disappointment was palpable as she swiftly turned and entered her house, slamming the door behind her. Just as she turned away from the door, the first person she laid eyes upon was her mother.
"How did it go? I can tell you're upset. But you shouldn't direct your anger towards his innocent twin brother," her mother expressed, trying to console her. Despite her mother's words, Larisa remained silent, still standing in the same spot. After a few moments, her mother added with curiosity,
"Why does he keep talking about swearing? I overheard him mention that word quite often."
"Did you hear him?" Larisa asked, surprised by her mother's eavesdropping.
"Yes, I heard him. Where is he?" her mother asked. “You didn’t bring him inside for a glass of wine.”
"Outside," Larisa pointed in his direction.
"That's not the way to treat someone," her mother remarked, preparing to go outside. However, Larisa quickly intervened,
"Don't worry, let me handle it." She turned and exited the house, with a single purpose in mind: to ask Dylan to leave if he was still present. As she stepped outside, she realized that Dylan had already departed. Standing near the door, she took a deep breath and uttered,
"Thank God he's gone." She thought and when she entered the house, he said, “he had gone. That’s not my fault.”
***********
Later that evening, Dylan sat on his bed in his childhood room, consumed by his thoughts after returning from Larisa's house. He had been indoors, lost in his own world, and his mood was somber. At the first knock on his door, he lifted his head and remained silent. A few seconds later, another knock followed, accompanied by his mother's voice.
"Hello, Dylan..." The sound of his mother's voice stirred his emotions, reminding him of how she used to call him years ago. The memories flooded back, and he felt a connection.
"Come inside," he responded, his voice tinged with weariness. He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, lost deep in contemplation. The room was filled with silence, except for the faint sound of the door opening and closing. His mother approached the bed with delight, her gaze fixed on him until their eyes met.
"My precious Dylan, what's wrong? Since you returned home so suddenly, your dad has been asking me what's bothering you. You've refused to eat and locked yourself in your room. Is there a problem with your brother, or is there someone else you're having an issue with?"
"Mum, I'm fine," Dylan replied, his voice lacking conviction.
"No, you can't be fine. I'm one hundred percent sure that you're not fine. I'm your mom, the one who carried you for nine months, who knows the tone of your voice when you're sad or happy. I can read your mood like I can read my own palm. Don't try to hide anything from me. The more you do, the more you hurt me as your mother. Let's be honest here, your sadness is akin to that of a man struggling with matters of the heart. Are you having problems with your girlfriend?"
Dylan abruptly sat up, prompting his mother to take a seat beside him, having stood all this while.
"Mum, you won't understand. I'll be fine. I came here to relax for a while."
"Are you certain you'll be fine? You look like someone who has been battered by the merciless hands of emotions. I may be a woman, but I can empathize and try to understand if you allow me," she paused, and silence hung in the air until he spoke again.
"Mom, I'll be fine." He said again.
"I'll only believe you'll be fine if you join us for dinner," she insisted, waiting for his response. When Dylan remained silent, she glanced at the wall clock.
"Dinner will be ready in an hour, and I hope you'll join us?" Her eyes welled up with emotions as she gazed at her son.
"I will," Dylan said, observing his mother as she slowly walked toward the door and left his room. He fell back onto the bed, his back against the mattress.
"Why didn't Larisa believe me? Why does she think I'm so heartless? Love and hate truly walk a thin line. Larisa, who was once in love with me, now despises me to the extent that nothing I do can change her mind." He covered his face with his hands and let out a deep sigh.
"What am I going to do? I came here because of her. Will I leave without any resolution? Even if she wants to reconcile with my brother, she shouldn't hold such resentment against me. I must return to her house and make my intentions clear..." His mind was filled with a whirlwind of thoughts when suddenly, his phone rang, shattering the stillness and interrupting his reverie. As he picked up his phone and glanced at the screen, he was surprised to see that it was his twin brother calling.
"Hello, Taylor!" Dylan greeted, eager to hear what Taylor had to say.
"Hi, Dylan. I heard you're at our parents' place now. You didn't call me when you arrived," Taylor said with a tone of sympathy.
"I'm sorry," Dylan responded, making an effort to keep his sadness from reflecting in his voice.
"You came at the right time. I need you to take me somewhere important. I still find it difficult to drive, and I don't want to stress myself," Taylor requested.
"When? Because I'll be traveling back soon," Dylan replied.
"Let's plan for tomorrow morning then. You'll need to come to my house. Also, I have some good news to share, and I'd rather tell you face to face than over the phone," Taylor said with a smile.
Less than an hour later, there was a knock on Dylan's door. He stood up, aware that it was his mom, and joined his parents for the meal. His facial expressions clearly indicated that he wasn't ready to entertain any questions, except for one his dad asked as he was about to stand up after being the first to finish eating.
"Dylan, has your brother informed you about anything?" his dad asked with a smile.
"No, but he asked me to meet him tomorrow morning," Dylan replied, returning the smile.
"Hmmm... I'll let you come back before I share what's on my mind," his dad replied, exchanging a smile with his wife. Dylan then walked back to his room.
The following day, Dylan left his parents' house in the morning, filled with curiosity about what his brother had planned to tell him. When he arrived at Taylor's house, he discovered that Taylor had already gotten ready and was almost set to go. After a few minutes, they stepped out of the house, with Taylor using just one crutch. Once they were in the car, Dylan voiced his thoughts.
"Which way to the hospital?"
“No... I'm not going to the hospital. I'm going to Larisa's house," Taylor stated.
"Larisa's house?" Dylan's voice rose immediately.
"Is there a problem?" Taylor asked.
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