37 | game of fate

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"I don't need help. Not that sort of help, anyway."

"Kylie, you tried to kill yourself. You brought a gun and you placed it against your head, intending to end your life. I was there with you at the police station remember, I heard everything you said." Valerie wailed in response, as they sat across one another at the dinner table.

A week had passed since Elijah's sudden death and since Kylie had been called to the police station to give a formal statement of her version of events on that horrific night. And now, as a result, Valerie refused to allow Kylie out of her sights. Even going so far as to stand outside the bathroom, the door slightly ajar as the girl emptied her bladder or showered. But the nights were by far the worst, Valerie slept beside the girl, holding her with what felt like a vice-like grip.

They'd both bawled their eyes out, nearly every night since. Both of them turning onto their side slyly, in order to hide their tears from the other.

It'd take time.

Valerie knew that. She'd made some huge mistakes as a mother and it'd take time for her to rectify them and return to the relationship that she and Kylie had once had, years ago. Truth be told, Valerie was growing uncertain as to whether her daughter would ever truly allow her close enough to make the amends.

"Ma, please. Can we just...not talk about it?" Kylie whimpered, barely consuming the mouthful of food on her spoon.

Valerie smiled warily, pushing her chair away from the table and standing up. She gingerly walked over to Kylie and knelt down beside the girl, "I think not talking is what caused a lot of problems for us, isn't that right, Kylie?" She leaned up, lightly brushing Kylie's chestnut-coloured hair out of her face and allowing her lips to peck at the skin on Kylie's forehead.

"What happened that night was...dreadful. But, we can't go back. We can't bring Elijah back, the very same way we can't bring Jax back. The only option we have now is to try and move forward, and in order for us to move forward, we have to forgive ourselves and forgive those that might have wronged us. But most importantly, we have to learn to talk about it. Because, when we stop talking about how we feel and keep it bottled up inside us...we just on this downward spiral."

"Ma, he saved me but I didn't save him." Kylie's lower lip trembled as she uttered the single statement she'd repeated every day since his death. She welcomed the feeling of a fresh bout of tears revealing themselves.

"Kylie, it's human nature to blame ourselves when tragedy strikes. But, you couldn't have done anything. He...he shot himself. We don't know what thoughts were running through his head, we can just hope that wherever he is, he's at peace finally. But what we can do...is we can learn from it...we can become better and learn to help those who need it."

Kylie turned her head away, her eyes closed as she let her mothers' words wash over her. She'd told lies upon lies upon lies, so what did it matter if she'd told another lie to her mother, to the police? What was another nail in her coffin?

Cupping her daughters' face in her hands, Valerie whispered, "You've had this black cloud hovering over you for way too long...I just never saw it. I'm sorry, Kylie. But, I...I'm trying to be a better mother to you, if you'll just let me. I'm ready to forgive if you are?" Kylie noticed her mother averting her gaze upwards as she completed her sentence.

Kylie took her cue to turn around and was surprised to see a rather pleased-looking Libby stood behind her. The three blonde dolls lined up in single file, barely visible behind their mother.

A look of uncertainty suddenly appeared across Libby's face as she glanced over at Valerie first and then Kylie, "You don't have to forgive me. But...we were thinking, maybe we could...try and be friends?" She suggested.

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