Chapter 87: For You

< Shirley >
I hunched over the window seat of my former bedroom, staring at the rain hitting the thick glass, tears whirling down my cheeks.
The sky was murky and cloudy as if it was mourning like me. I could see specks of blue lights from the second floor, the sirens going off without any restraint, constantly reminding me that a murder had occurred downstairs—the murder of my mother.
It wasn't until around two in the morning that the police cars had left, finally letting silence fall over. I was ultimately able to reminisce about the sweet memories with my mom, letting myself divulge into my own bubble until my phone jingled.
I pressed the power button, letting the screen light up. Instant rage took over me as the once-adored face flashed on the screen—the photo of me and Dylan in the twilight of that amusement park date was my lock screen wallpaper—and I whacked my phone on the floor, smashing it into millions of pieces.
I didn't know what it was, but something inside me had snapped right after the echo of the phone died down.
There was this impulse I had—an urge to put the time in reverse and undo what I had done. The guilt came crashing down on me. I felt utterly stupid.
"How could I not believe him?" I let out, running a hand roughly through my hair.
Dylan said he didn't do anything, and I should have taken his word for it. I should have given him a chance to explain himself, but I didn't. I was too blinded by the shock of my mother's death. I was too focused on the gun in his hand, rather than actually trying to dig up the truth.
I promised to trust him, to never let go of him. I broke my promise. I hurt him unknowingly.
Shit, I should be given the award of the worst girlfriend of the century.
I started hurriedly putting on my shoes. Just at that time, I heard some loud noises coming from downstairs; someone was yelling. Putting on my shoes, I made my way down, the voices becoming clearer with each step I took.
I hid behind the staircase, watching my brother and father standing face to face, rare expressions on their faces. Adrian seemed really mad, and Dad was smirking.
"I can't believe you would kill Mom for such a trivial thing," I heard Adrian say, and my eyes widened. I took a shallow breath and continued listening to their conversation, tears already brimming in my corners.
"She was getting in my way," Dad replied with no hint of remorse.
"How could you be so inhumane? I get it why you killed my former girlfriend, but why Mom? She was your wife, the mother of your children, dammit!" Adrian's voice got louder.
"Mother of my children, you say? Did she do me a favor by that?" Dad scrunched up his nose in disgust. "The two of you brought me nothing but trouble. Being my son, you went ahead and joined the gang of my worst enemy. You refused to handle my business which I trained you so hard for. Don't even get me started on that sister of yours," he sneered.
Tears were gushing out of my eyes like a fountain with every malicious word that was coming out of the person who I considered to be my Superman.
Dad continued, "Just how stupid could she be? Did she not understand that Dylan was only using her to plot against me? Despite that, she threw herself on him. She is just like her mother. A whore—" My heart skipped a beat as a gunshot was fired, and Dad's word stopped midway.
I pressed my palm over my mouth to restrain the gasp that threatened to come out.
"You have sinned enough. Please not any more. I cannot let you harm my sister now," Adrian mumbled, watching the blood gush out of Dad's chest as he shuddered in pain on the floor. My guts twisted in knots; I felt sick to my stomach.
I hurt and blamed the love of my life, someone who actually loved me, for a person like my father, who just called me and my mother such a disgusting thing. Truly, I was a fool.
"You ungrateful fiend," those were the last words Liam Hamilton managed to say while he writhed on the ground out of suffering.
I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall behind my back, silently praying for my dad, please forgive me, Dad. Thank you for everything.
A surge of emotions was clashing inside me. No matter what or how he was, he was still my father. He showed me love. I used to love him as well. I couldn't just enjoy him dying right in front of my eyes.
The mansion, which I used to call 'home', started feeling like a haunted house. I wanted to get out of there—run away from the painful scenario. That's what I did. I dashed towards the main door, ignoring everything else, also the fresh bloodstains in the living room.
As soon as I stepped out of the porch, the rain droplets hit me, the cold spiraled throughout my body, yet I continued running straight until I bumped into something.
"Can you watch where you are going?" groaned a very familiar irritable voice. My eyes immediately darted towards the tall man standing in front of me, his face pulled up in a frown.
"What are you doing here, Dylan?" I asked, completely taken aback by his presence.
Dylan straightened up and cleared his throat before speaking, "I am not bound to answer you." He crossed his arms across his chest in a stubborn manner and turned his body partially away from me and grumbled, "Just so you know, I am not here to clear any misunderstandings, and I am definitely not here for you."
"You are here for me?" I was dumbfounded. Despite everything I said to him, Dylan came back here? Just for me? How long had he been there, anticipating to meet me?
Before I realized it, tears welled up in my eyes and started flowing freely. I didn't know whether it was out of happiness or guilt.
Dylan huffed. "I already said I am not here for you. I was just strolling around—" his lies came to a pause as his eyes landed on me. "I am sorry. I wasn't being serious. I came here for you," he admitted. His demeanor had completely changed as panic flashed across his face. His voice lowered, almost in a soft tone, he said, "Don't cry, please." It made me whimper even harder.
Dylan tried to reach out to touch my cheek, but I swatted his hand away and took a step back, mumbling hysterically, "Why are you so nice to me?" I buried my face squarely in my palms, letting out ugly sobs.
I heard him exasperate a sigh. I was about to talk more but was stopped as a hand was placed gently on top of my head. I looked up to meet his beautiful grey eyes that were filled with affection.
"Don't you know already?" He let a small smile curl onto his lips as he continued, "It's because I love you, silly."
It was the first time after Mom's death that I felt my heart flutter. I felt horrible for feeling such positive emotions just after a few hours of her death. I really did feel awful. Still, I couldn't help it. I felt incredibly blessed to have Dylan in my life.
Dylan just made me feel emotions that I couldn't decipher. But his unfathomable love for me came at a price. It made me feel worse for saying all those means words to him, for hurting him.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." I started to mutter hysterically.
While I was rambling apologies, all of a sudden, I was pulled into his embrace. Dylan wrapped his arms around me securely, letting my head rest on his chest.
"It's okay. I understand," he said.
Despite that, I felt the need to explain myself. "Even if I said those horrible things to you, I didn't mean those. I wasn't in the right state of my mind—"
"Shirley," he called out softly. "You don't need to explain yourself. I understand how you feel," that was all I needed to hear, to know that he actually understood. He lost his mother as well, not to mention my father probably killed his mom.
Even if I felt like staying in his arms for a little longer, I broke apart. Standing at a good arm's length, I took a deep breath and composed myself. No matter how terrible I felt at that moment, knowing that he was slightly conflicted about me, I needed to assure him that I was going to be there for him just the way he was for me—this time, I was absolutely serious and determined.
I couldn't let Dylan do everything. I made up my mind to completely dedicate myself to him, also as a way to repent on behalf of my father who wronged him unjustly — as his daughter, it was my responsibility.
With that determination, I asked, "Dylan, will you give me one last chance to be with you? I swear to make up for the mistakes I have made."
Dylan twitched his lips, thinking for a while. After a long minute, he sighed and shook his head, saying, "As much as I want to, I can't. I am sorry."