Page 9 of My Vicious Beast
His voice hardens. "Sienna, stop being so stubborn and disrespectful."
I cackle. Of course. Of course it's me. I'm the one being irrational. I'm the one being emotional. I'm the one in the wrong.
Not.
This.
Time.
"I'm not being stubborn or disrespectful. I'm standing up for myself." I jab my trembling finger into my chest. "For once in my life, I'm putting my own wellbeing first."
"Watch your mouth, Sienna!" my mother bites out, her tone harsh and cold. "We have done everything for you, given everything for you."
The words slip out of me, bitter and raw. "Really? Because it sounds like you're choosing her. Even after this. You're still choosing her, just like you've always done."
"No one's choosing anyone?—"
"Stop. Just… stop." I can't take it, not the lies or the betrayal. I have no more hope for them… for anyone. "This was the one time," I whisper. "The one time I needed you to be there for me… and you still can't do it."
“That’s not true, Sienna,” my father says, but his tone is exasperated, like this is all just a big waste of his time.
"God, you really expect me to believe that?" I toss my hand in the air. "From the moment Aubrey was born, you handed her to me like she was mine to raise. I braided her hair, made her meals, and taught her how to read. I stood up for her, Me. I was always there?—"
"Because you're her big sister! That's what big sisters do!" my father says.
"I was a child!" I scream. "I needed you too, but you gave me your other daughter like she was a project and left me alone to fend for myself. You babied her and expected me to just deal with it. And now she fucks my fiancé, and you want me to sit down and have a meal with her?"
"We're not saying forgive her?—"
"But you're not punishing her either, are you Mom?" I purse my quivering lips. Tears blur my vision, but I refuse to let them fall. "Tell me why. Why is this so important to you?"
"Sienna, she's pregnant," my mother says, her tone agitated. "This will be our first grandchild. And we're a family. No matter what, we're always a family. She needs us and we're all each other has."
"And what about what I need?" I bite out. "What about supporting me? Or what? Is her baby a do over for you? Is it the precious little gem that's going to pull our family together and make it the picture-perfect image you've always wanted?"
"Sienna—"
I throw my hand up in the air again and roll my eyes. "Of course! What was I thinking? It doesn't matter how Aubrey did it. Who she hurt. She's pregnant, and that's all you see. Not me. Not what I've lost. Not what she stole from me," I say, smacking my chest, as if maybe, if they can hear it, they'll remember I have a heart too.
My father huffs. "We do see you?—"
"No, you don't.” Tears roll down my cheeks, but my voice is steady, calm, accepting. “And I finally understand that you never did."
For a while, they say nothing. They don't try to convince me, don't apologize, nothing. And that tells me all I need to know.
My father sighs, long and heavy, as if he’s had enough of this conversation. Because, like always, I’m too much. My feelings, my need to be loved, are too much. “This is bigger than you, Sienna, and one day, when you’re a parent, you’ll understand.”
I shake my head. "I don't need to be a parent to know that what you're doing is wrong. Aubrey's baby didn't ask for any of this, and that child deserves all the love in the world. But I'm not going to let Aubrey—or either of you—use her pregnancy as an excuse to not take accountability for her actions."
"You're being dramatic," my mother says, in a flippant tone.
"No." I draw in a shaky breath. "What I am is done. Done with all of it, and with all of you."
"Sienna—"
"Enjoy your life. With her. With James. With your grandchild. I always thought you wished I'd never been born, well congratulations. Consider me gone."
I hang up before they can respond.
