Chapter Eight

Indya

This has been the most insane Sunday our little family has had in a long time. It is barely past two in the afternoon, and shit has been hitting the fan since six thirty this morning. I am exhausted. I got home around midnight last night, maybe a little after, the house was dark, everyone was asleep, and I was well on my way to do the same. I decide to just wash the makeup off my face and shower in the morning because I did not want to risk waking Amara or Trevor.

After washing my face, I head to my room and change from my gown into my shorts and tank top. I climb into bed and my mind goes straight to Atlas. I can feel my cheeks heat and the smile growing on my face.

I had a great time, even before I met Atlas. I was enjoying myself, which is what I love about interpreting for others. Seeing the person I'm working with have a great time, feeling comfortable and confident in their own skin, brings me joy. It makes all the hardships worth it.

The way Atlas held me so tight when we were dancing felt amazing. I've never been held like that by anyone. We spent almost two hours on the dance floor, never speaking, just soaking in each other's presence. It was as if the world around us disappeared, and it was just the two of us, moving in perfect harmony.

The only downside of the night was when we were interrupted by his ex and his mother. Talk about uncomfortable. Even now, I don't know what to think about that whole ordeal. It was weird, uncalled for, and rude, if I'm being honest. Who does something like that at a charity gala? In the middle of a dance floor, no less. I guess that's just how the other half lives.

When Atlas asked to exchange numbers, I was hesitant. My track record with the opposite sex isn't exactly stellar. We danced a few more times and had a drink together. He told me about his life as a ball player, and I shared a bit about my life as a sign language interpreter. I ended up giving him my number right before I left, thinking that with my luck, I might never see him again. I wasn't as open with him as he was with me, but I figured the least I could do was give him my phone number.

I finally fall asleep sometime around four in the morning. Then suddenly, I jerk awake because all I hear is a screaming match between Amara and Trevor. I go to put my pillow over my head to get a little more sleep before Haven wakes up, when I hear it.

"I told you to get out, Trevor. So, help me God, I will kick your ass, if you do not get your shit and get the fuck out of my house. I was nice enough to let you sleep on my floor last night since it was late, but I told you I wanted you gone before Haven woke up. I do not want you around her. Ever."

I have never heard this tone come from Amara, she sounds pissed, yes, but there is also something threatening that is mixed in.

"I said I was sorry, Amara. I was just trying to get her attention, but she was ignoring me, she just kept looking at that stupid fucking crown, smiling. If she would have just acknowledged me, then I would not have grabbed her arm." Trevor is just digging himself a deeper hole.

But I can't just lay here and listen now, because now I am pissed. That fucker probably scared the shit out of my baby girl, and he put his hands on her!

The vision plays across my mind, and I am in the living room before I even realized I opened the door to my room. Amara and Trevor are standing by the door, Amara is holding it open while she is tossing bags into the hall, and Trevor is just standing there trying to convince her it was all a misunderstanding.

"What the hell is going on? What happened? Why are you touching my child? What do you mean she would not acknowledge you when you tried to get her attention? What did you do, say her name out loud, snap your fingers, clap your hands? What, Trevor? Please tell me what you did to make my child ignore you, because she has never ignored Amara or her daycare teachers, her aunts or uncle, or me. Come on, Trevor, enlighten me," I say as calmly as I can. Trying to hold in the rage that is burning me from the inside out.

"For your information, I called her name, like, fifty times and she never responded. Amara told me to give her a snack while she jumped in the shower and dressed for bed. She wouldn't answer me so I put the snack back and told her that if she wanted to ignore me, then she would not be receiving an after-dinner snack. Do you think she acknowledged me even then? No, she didn't. Hailey is a spoiled brat, and you only have yourself to blame." Trevor smirks, puffing his chest like he just put me in my place. That is when I lose it.

"You fucking moron, her name is Haven, H.A.V.E.N, Haven. She is four years old and deaf, you dick. She didn't ignore you—she can't hear you, or anyone or anything for that matter. You have been here all week, and you didn't notice all the sign language that has been going on? Have you not noticed she has never spoken? Haven is the furthest thing from a spoiled brat, you prick, maybe if you had spent the last five or six months getting to know us, instead of turning your nose up at us you would see how sweet and kind and smart she is. But no, you were too worried about yourself and how you needed to get Amara away from us to give Haven or I a chance. Amara, I love you more than anything, but I would be more comfortable if Trevor did not step foot in this apartment around my child ever again. I will not be responsible for my actions if I ever see your face again, you piece of shit." I turn and stomp my way back to the hallway, sneaking into Haven's room, needing to be near her. The sight of her peaceful, sleeping face always calms me. I am shaking from all the adrenaline coursing through my body. I think that is the first time I have ever exploded like that because of someone's words and actions.

What just happened? I've always prided myself on staying calm and composed, no matter the situation. But tonight, something snapped. Maybe it was the way he dismissed my feelings, or that it had to do with Haven, or perhaps it was the culmination of all the stress I've been under lately. Either way, I lost control, and it scares me.

I look at Haven, her tiny chest rising and falling with each breath. She's my anchor, my reason for everything. I can't afford to lose my temper like that. What kind of example would I be setting for her? I need to be strong, but also kind and patient.

Taking a deep breath, I sit down beside her bed, letting the calmness of the room wash over me. I need to find a way to manage my emotions better. For Haven's sake, and for mine. Tonight was a wake-up call. I can't let other people's actions dictate my reactions. I have to be better, for both of us.

A few moments later, Amara quietly opens the door to Haven's room and sits next to me on the floor beside her bed. She puts her arm around my shoulders, wiping the tears from my cheeks with her other hand. I lean into her embrace, trying to soak in her strength and bravery qualities she always seems to have, no matter the situation.

"I am so sorry, Indya. I didn't know how he acts around you or Haven. I went to turn the shower on and realized I left my slippers in the bedroom. You know I hate my clean feet touching the bathroom floor, no matter how much we clean it. When I was walking back toward the bathroom, I heard Trevor. He was making fun of her for being deaf, for not being able to speak. The things he said I will never repeat, not even if you want me to, they were horrible things. I know she didn't know what he was saying, because he knows nothing about signing, but the expression on her face when I went into the living room to give him a piece of my mind—"

She stops, a gasping sob escaping her mouth, something I have never heard, seen, or witnessed from Amara. Sure, I have seen her shed some tears, but never like this. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze, giving her the strength to finish what she was saying. I need her to finish what she was saying. A few moments pass as she gathers herself, taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly. She continues to tell me everything that happened.

"When I walked into the living room, he had her by the arm and was shaking her around like a rag doll. She looked so scared, Indya. How could I let that happen to that precious little angel, who had no idea what was going on, or why he seemed angry with her? I am her aunt, I am supposed to protect her from people like him, I am supposed to protect her from everything. Your responsibilities are my responsibilities, which include caring, loving, and protecting that baby. I failed her. I failed you. I failed our family. Please don't hate me. Please don't take Haven away from me. I love you both so much. I don't want either of you to leave me."

Her words hit me like a tidal wave, crashing over my already fragile state. I can feel her guilt and sorrow mingling with my own. I pull her closer, trying to convey through my embrace that I don't blame her. We sit there, holding each other, both of us silently vowing to protect Haven from anyone who would dare harm her again.

She is full-on sobbing now, tears flooding my cheeks, my hand covering my mouth. How in the world could she think that we would leave her? Does she not realize that besides my foster siblings, she is the only family we have? My heart is breaking for not only my daughter, but my best friend. This woman, who is usually loud and borderline obnoxious, with a mouth like a sailor, stronger and braver than anyone I have ever met, is completely falling apart right now. I gather her in my arms, hugging her tighter than I have ever hugged her before, letting her feel the love I have for her flow from me to her.

"Amara, I would never leave you or take Haven away from you. You are our family, and even though you think you failed us, you didn't. You kicked him out before she woke up, so she did not have to see him. You stopped him when he was hurting her, and when she was so frightened, I can guarantee, you comforted her. You are more than her Aunt Mar; you are like a second mother to her. You care for her and love her just as a mother loves their child. I never want to hear you say those things again, understand? We love you, and I'm sorry to say, but you are stuck with us for life, no matter what."

Amara's sobs begin to subside, her breathing evening out as she clings to me. I can feel the weight of her guilt and fear slowly lifting. She's always been my rock, my constant in a world that often feels chaotic and uncertain. Seeing her like this breaks my heart, but it also strengthens my resolve. We are a family, and we will face everything together.

As I hold her, I think about all the times she's been there for me, all the times she's picked me up when I was down. Now it's my turn to be strong for her, to remind her that she is not alone. We are in this together, and nothing will ever change that.

Amara nods her head and sniffles a few more times, before saying, "I dumped his stupid fucking ass. He cried real tears when I told him to lose my number and address, and to forget this beautiful face and banging body, because he does not have permission to look or touch ever again. Fucking dick. If I ever see him again, I am going to give him the beat down of his life, he will be wishing he listened to me and only leaving with a broken nose."

I laugh, because there she is, my badass best friend, my soul sister, our family. I just shake my head, sad that I missed that, but glad we don't have to deal with him anymore. Five minutes later, I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see a curly-headed angel staring at me with a smile on her face, giving me the sign for pancakes.

Even though the morning was all drama, the afternoon is looking up. We decide to go to the park around lunchtime to have a picnic with Haven. We get home around two-thirty, and Haven is exhausted. I swear she is fast for a four-year-old. She was running from the slide to the swings, back to the slide, then to the monkey bars, and back to the swings, over and over. I only dream of having that much energy. I just laid her in her bed for a nap, so she isn't cranky this evening, and head back to the living room to have some adult time with Amara.

I grab my phone from the table and make myself comfortable. I always leave it at home when we go to the park because I have a bad habit of setting it down and never seeing it again. I check it, in case my brother or sisters tried to get a hold of me. I still haven't decided if I am willing to let Haven stay the weekend with them or not, so I keep putting it off. They all seem to understand because I have talked to all them, and they haven't mentioned it. However, it is Sunday, and Silas only asked about it on Friday. Gosh, has it only been three days?

I see I only missed one message. I gasp. My heart is pounding, and my hands are beginning to sweat. Amara walks in and plops down on the couch next to me, letting me know she is just as exhausted as Haven.

"Why does your face look weird, and why are you staring at your notification screen? Most people open the message before they decide if they should freak out. Is it from Silas? One of your sisters?" All I can do is shake my head and tilt the phone her way to see who it is from.

She squeals and bounces in place, like we are sixteen-year-old girls getting a call from our crush. "Are you going to read it? I will if you don't want to," Amara asks. I press on the message, so it opens, and I feel the butterflies and the goosebumps attack my body at the same time. My eyes go from Amara to the screen, my heart racing with anticipation.

Atlas: good afternoon :)

My eyes find Amara's, who is beaming straight at me. "What do I say? Do I respond now? What does it mean?" I am literally on the verge of having an eighth-grade meltdown because my crush recognized me.

Amara just laughs, "Indya, all he said was ‘good afternoon.' What do you mean, what does it mean?" She is full-on belly laughing now, so hard a snort comes from her, which triggers my laughter.

"But the smiley face, Mar, what does the emoji mean? Out of all the emojis we have access to, why did he choose the smiley face?" I know I am being a little dramatic, but that is just me, someone who overthinks everything. Blame it on the way I grew up; there was always a reason behind every action and word from everyone I encountered from the age of seven until I graduated college.

Amara's smile dims a little as she begins to understand why I am reacting the way that I am. I feel her hand squeeze my shoulder, giving me the comfort my body is in desperate need of.

"Indya, things like that don't always mean something in the way you are thinking. Sometimes, the other person doesn't know what to say, whether it be because of nerves, or they don't know how to start the conversation. If you want my honest opinion, he was probably nervous about reaching out to you first. Everything you have had run through your mind has more than likely run through his. But look," she points to my phone, which still has the message from Atlas up on it, "he bit the bullet and decided on that. The emoji is just him being friendly, saying he's happy to have decided to actually push send. So now, you need to ask yourself, are you brave enough to respond? Do you think this is something you want to continue to see if it grows? The choice is always yours, Indya, remember that. You will always be in charge of who you let in and who gets to be a part of yours and Haven's lives."

Amara seems to know the right thing to say to me no matter where my mind tries to take me. I give her a small smile, press reply, and type out my message to Atlas.

Indya: Good afternoon, Atlas. How have you been since I last saw you?

"Now we wait," Amara states. She is looking at me like I just found a solution to all the problems we have ever had. She looks at me like a proud mother. I roll my eyes, smirk, and shake my head at her. I guess she is right, though. Now we wait, which is almost as nerve-wracking as receiving the message in the first place.

I don't have to wait long because only a few minutes pass before my phone signals that I have a message. My heart speeds up, and I am so nervous to see if it is Atlas who replied. I could just be overreacting, and it is one of my siblings. But somehow, I know it is from Atlas.

Those butterflies feel as if they are about to burst from my stomach and take flight into the world.

"Come on, Indya, open it, I want to see what he said to us," Amara says.

I giggle, "What do you mean ‘us?'"

"You know what I mean, girl, come on, let me live through you, plus you owe me." I look at her, confused.

"You haven't given me anything on how last night went. All I know is that you met someone, and apparently, he has your number. From that, I can see his name is Atlas. Which is kind of a cool name, different. I have only ever known one person with that name, and he plays for the Riverside Legends."

I go completely still at that response. I did not even think that Amara might know him. The company she works for is the financial advisor for the team. She has mentioned it in passing, but I never really paid attention to what she was saying.

"Oh, uh, yeah. That's the baseball team, right? I, uh—" I stop myself before I let my mouth get away from me. I don't want to mess up what Atlas and I haven't even started by not keeping this to myself. I don't know if he would want me to mention that it was him, the actual baseball player, I was messaging. So, I try to change the subject away from Atlas as fluidly as I can.

"It is a unique name, huh," I say, knowing she can tell I am trying to divert the conversation elsewhere. I don't wait for her to respond; I just look down and read his reply, with Amara by my side, reading as well.

Atlas: it has gone well so far. but looking better and better each passing min. hbu, anything new going on since i last saw u.

"I don't know what I should say here, Amara. I can't just say, well, the morning was shit, but the afternoon has gone well. Should I just beat around the bush and say it has been a normal day as usual, or should I just go ahead and let him know about the shit show that occurred and then about the awesome time at the park we had?"

"You know me, girl, I always go with honesty, whether it is uncomfortable for me or the other person. I am not one who believes in beating around the bush. Remember, you are in control of this. If you want to tell him, go ahead; if not, then don't."

I know she is right, again. She has always told me that she will be honest with everything, anything else is just a waste of time. I decide she has a point. There is no use starting whatever this is with Atlas on bits of truth, so I go with my gut and start typing.

Indya: This morning was a little chaotic due to my best friend throwing her now ex-boyfriend out on his ass, for something that was unnecessary and not his place to do or say. But after she took out the trash, we had a great talk, we went to the park and had a picnic, now we are home relaxing.

Again, he responds immediately. I smile at Amara as she tells me she is proud of the way I handled that. My nerves have finally settled and just turned into pure excitement. I can't help but feel a flutter of hope. Maybe this is the start of something good.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" Amara teases, nudging me playfully.

"No, it wasn't," I admit, feeling a bit more confident. "Thanks for being here with me, Mar. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She grins, "You'd probably be a nervous wreck, but you'd manage. You always do."

I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in days. "Okay, let's see what he said." I open the message, my heart pounding with anticipation. Amara leans in, just as eager to read his reply.

Atlas: im sorry 2 hear that ur morning was ruff, but glad ur day is looking brighter. do u and ur frd have plans for 2nite?

I freeze once again. I turn to look at Amara, who is still looking smug, and immediately she can tell I am on the verge of freaking out once again.

"He doesn't know about Haven. I didn't feel comfortable talking about her last night to anyone but Patricia, my client. I know absolutely nothing about him. I think once I get to know him a little better, I can bring her up. But right now, that is not an option. I am not embarrassed of her or anything, I just don't feel comfortable bringing a man around her who I know literally nothing about but his name and what he does for work. What do I do, Amara?" I know I should be honest with him, but I honestly do not want to put Haven in a position where she is around another man she doesn't really know, especially after the entire situation with Trevor.

As usual, Amara knows the right thing to say and has the perfect solution. "Just let him know we decided to stay in for the evening and have a movie night while wearing goop on our face, and shoving as much unhealthy shit into our mouths as possible. Technically, it isn't a lie, as this is what we planned while we were at the park for lunch. Which reminds me, I need to make a junk food run. Do you or Haven want anything special for the evening?"

I take a deep breath, letting her know what she gets will be just fine. Then I shoot another message to Atlas, letting him know what we have planned for the rest of the day.

Atlas: that sounds like the perf way 4 u both to unwind from the events of the day and start ur new week fresh. i did check my sched and im avail this week after 4, except for tue and sat. we have home games both days. if i left a couple tix at the will call would u and ur friend want 2 come 2 1 of the games? u can choose which 1 or neither, i wont be offended if u say no.

I respond quickly, tilting the phone away so Amara can't read my response, because I know she is going to have questions about his asking about the games and tickets.

Indya: Let's just see how the week goes first, is that okay? Maybe, the Saturday game. Can I let you know later in the week? Amara, my best friend and roommate, doesn't exactly know who you are, but did say something about your name and how she has only ever known one other person with that name. She doesn't know that you are one and the same. Are you comfortable with me telling her who you are? Unlike me, she actually knows about sports and the players. If you are not comfortable with that, let me know and I will not say anything about who you really are.

I nervously hit send, my eyes going from the phone to Amara and back again. She doesn't seem to mind that I hid the reply from her. I look to see what she is doing on her phone, and it seems as though she is making a list of things she is wanting to pick up. Always the smart one, I would have just gone to the store and if I see something that looks like we would like it, I grab it and throw it in the basket. My phone alerts me of an incoming call, which has me jumping off the couch and running to my room.

"Hello?" I am out of breath from making the mad dash to my room.

"Indya, are you okay? Did I catch you at a bad time? I thought the response to your last message would be better as a call," Atlas explains his reasoning for calling instead of texting.

"Oh, no, I mean yes, I am fine. I just ran into my room so Amara couldn't eavesdrop on the conversation. I didn't know if you wanted her to know that you were, well, you." I finally calm my breathing and can speak normally to him.

"I have no problem with who you tell about me, Indya. I know you heard some of what my ex, Mallory, had done while we were together, but it goes a little deeper than that. For some reason though, I trust that you would not do the same. So, if you trust your friend, then I will trust your friend," Atlas replies.

"I would feel better not hiding your actual identity from her. We have no secrets from each other. So, I appreciate you letting me tell her who you are," my voice is soft. "Is it okay if I call you back in a little bit, so I can go talk to her? I kind of made a mad dash out of the room when you called," I laugh into the phone.

"Of course. Hopefully, she is a fan and not, well, you know, the opposite," he chuckles back. We hang up after saying our goodbyes, and I make my way out to the living room to let my best friend know who I am about to get mixed up with.