"Callan just had to be here before you agreed to my request, huh?"
Sophia trained her gaze on Orla's stoic demeanor. It was conspicuous that she wouldn't answer her question.
"Sophia, can you tell me everything here? I don't want to go to that house."
Orla sounded disturbed. Callan squeezed her hands, a reminder that he was there with her—he'd be with her through every phase of it all.
"I would love to, but Orla, I want everyone to be present." After an aching silence between them, she sighed and began again. "Have you decided on a day for us to go?"
"You should do that. You're the one who started the whole thing. So fix it up." Orla shot almost immediately.
She was angry. Her glinting eyes that roamed around Sophia's tastefully furnished living room were evidence of her fury.
"Okay,"
Sophia absentmindedly connected her fingers to her chin as she thought of a perfect day to surprise their family with their unannounced visits.
Callan sat there, staring at Sophia and back at his wife.
"Amelia's birthday is coming up in two weeks.”
"And?" Orla asked, anticipating the brilliant or maybe not brilliant stunt her sister was about to pull.
"You don't know this, but she loves to spend that day with only family. Her birthdays are one of those events that brings us together as a family. That day is a perfect day for us, Orla."
After a critical reflection, Orla nodded in agreement. "Is there something else that I should know about before that day?"
Thoughts of how that day will turn out greatly terrified her. Her chest began to rise and fall, something within her screaming danger.
Going back to her father's house with all her sisters present was a nightmare for her.
After everything they had done to her, she wouldn't want to go back to that house. But with Callan by her side, she was certain she could stay there for a little longer than she had hoped.
"Orla," Sophia dubbed remorsefully. "I have been a very terrible sister and you didn't deserve all we've ever done to you—"
"I would like to leave now."
Orla cut her short. She detested it whenever Sophia tried to throw a pity party. She wasn't ready for such today.
"Listen to me, Orla. Please…"
With eyes filled with unshed tears, Orla looked up to Callan, who encouraged her to listen to her sister.
She heeded and looked back to Sophia at once. But not because Callan asked her to, it was because she was suddenly thankful to Sophia for orchestrating her meeting with Callan.
If Sophia hadn't come for her that evening, she might never have met Callan. She would probably still be in her Father's house, detesting every passing day.
The tears dropped, and she was grateful.
"What do you have to say?" Orla asked, dabbing tears with her thumb.
Callan wasn't comfortable with those tears that left her eyes. He drew her closer, wiped off the tears that stained her cheeks, and soothed her before she spoke again.
"Thank you," she muttered in between. Loud enough for him to hear her.
"After that day, things might get messy, but I hope you find it in your heart to truly forgive me. I was young and confused—I didn't know what to do. Ever since I came of age, it has been hard for me to speak out. I have tried to speak out, but no one would listen to me. I have been living in fear that Dad would disown me if I came against the family. I have been a coward, but I want to break free from those shackles now."
Orla refused to say more words. She glimpsed honesty in her sister's eyes as she spoke, her voice held so many pleas for forgiveness.
-
-
After they left Sophia, Orla was sullen.
Callan suggested going somewhere together. Somewhere she could loosen up, stare and relate with nature, throwing her worries behind for a short while.
She knew nowhere, but Callan took her to a park, the same Park where she had met Jackson a few weeks ago.
It was along the streets that led to their house.
The park area was unusually scanty that afternoon. A few weeks after Orla visited, it was commemorated as a government project and the old operators had been asked to vacate their activities.
She gasped. Callan knew about this place too?
"Why here?"
She swiveled around until she was right in front of him, flickering her eyebrows in awe. "How did you know about this place?"
"It's close to our home," he shrugged. "And you needed inspiration to get through your current project. You know I am rooting for you, right?”
"And that's what you've always done, Callan."
She smiled, extending her arms around his neck. His gaze intensely locked onto hers. Breezily, he grazed his lips against her lips.
Her heart momentarily faltered as she gazed into his eyes. She loved it here.
He held her hand possessively. "Where do you have troubles? I can help."
She laughed softly. The kind of laughter that soothed souls and mended broken hearts.
"You don't even know how to draw."
Backing away from his grip, she scoured the park space. It was larger than she had imagined and was even jammed with playing facilities.
She had been distracted by Jackson and didn't even do what she planned out the last time.
In her head, she envisioned an image of kids with their guardians, roaming the place, giggling as they played with different wheels.
She could do one, even better than the one she was staring at right now. With her drawings, she could bring to life the largest park in the city.
"You don't know all my talents, do you?" Callan followed behind her, but not too closely.
He was giving her enough time and space to view and observe.
She laughed again, stunned by his sense of humor. "No, I don't. Who knows, you might be a great artist."
"I might," he sent her an unserious wink. "So, is anything clicking?"
"I don't know," she spread her arms, "It will take more than a day to scout this area. I need to come here more often and maybe visit other parks to compare their similarities and differences."