A heavy heart

Chapter 6

The helicopter’s blades were loud, filling the small cabin. I sat still, hands tight in my lap, my heart beating fast. My eyes went straight to my mother.

She hadn’t changed much—soft eyes, warm smile—but her face carried new lines. Worry lines, guilt whispered. The kind you give someone when you break their heart. My hands gripped my knees, knuckles white, as I fought the urge to turn away.

“Mom…” My voice cracked. The word barely left my lips.

Her head tilted slightly, her eyes softening. “Yes, baby.” Her hand reached out, trembling, and brushed a strand of hair away from my face.

I flinched. It wasn’t her touch that hurt—it was the gentleness in it. The way her fingers lingered, as if afraid I might disappear. My chest tightened.

Her eyes roamed over me. My dirty hair. My bony shoulders. The faded uniform that hung off my frame. Her lips pressed together, but not fast enough to stop the quiver. She was trying not to cry.

I dropped my head. My fingers dug into the fabric of my pants. Shame burned hot on my face. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, so low I wasn’t sure she’d heard me.

Her hands found mine. They were warm, steady, and heartbreakingly kind. “Oh, Andrea,” she murmured, her voice soft like a lullaby. “It’s okay, darling. It’s going to be okay.”

My shoulders shook, but I didn’t look up. I couldn’t. Her forgiveness felt like a gift I didn’t deserve.

“I was so stupid,” I choked out. “I chose him over you. Over Dad. I gave him everything, and I never—” My voice broke, words failing me.

Her fingers tightened around mine. “Shh, baby. You were young. You thought you were in love.” She paused, her voice trembling. “I blamed myself for pushing you away. Your father did too, and he can’t wait to see you.”

Her words tore at me. The thought of my father—the man I had defied so cruelly—waiting for me, welcoming me… it was too much.

The cabin grew stifling as memories flooded in, sharp and vivid.

I was eighteen again, standing in the grand dining room, the scent of fresh-cut flowers mingling with the tension in the air.

My father sat at the head of the table, his posture rigid, his piercing gaze fixed on me.

“You’re making a mistake, Andrea,” he said, his voice hard as steel. “That man is going to ruin you. You don’t see it now, but you will.”

My arms crossed over my chest, my defiance a thin veil over the uncertainty twisting inside me. “You don’t know him.”

“I know enough.” His voice sharpened, a blade slicing through the silence. “He’s after your money, your name. If you think he loves you for anything else, you’re fooling yourself.”

“Jason doesn’t care about any of that!” I shot back, my voice rising with every word. “He loves me for me!”

“And yet, you’ve been sending him money behind our backs,” he countered. “The accountant told me everything, Andrea. He’s using you, and you’re letting him.”

“James,” my mother murmured, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “Don’t push her—”

He pulled away from her touch, his focus unrelenting. “She needs to hear this.” His gaze burned into mine. “You have two choices. Stay here and build a future you deserve, or leave with him and lose everything.”

My heart pounded as anger and betrayal warred within me. “That’s not fair!”

“Andrea, please,” my mother said, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotion. “Think about what you’re doing. What you’re giving up. Your father and I—everything we’ve worked for, we’ve done for you.”

Tears blurred my vision. “Why can’t you just support me?”

“Because we love you,” she whispered. “More than you’ll ever understand.”

I couldn’t face her. I turned and stormed out, the sound of the door slamming echoing in my ears. It was the last time I saw them.

The memory cut through me like a knife, dragging me back to the present. Tears blurred my vision as I stared at my mother.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, my voice breaking. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

Her hand reached for my chin, tilting my face toward hers. “Andrea,” she said softly, her eyes shining with unshed tears, “you are my daughter. Nothing you’ve done changes that. You were young and in love. And if anyone should be apologizing, it’s me—for not showing you that you didn’t have to choose between us and your happiness.”

Her words hit like a blow. I shook my head quickly, tears spilling over. “No. Don’t say that. It was my fault. I didn’t listen. I…” My breath hitched. “I hurt you. I abandoned you.”

She leaned closer, lifting my chin so I couldn’t hide anymore. Her eyes glistened, her lips curved into a sad smile. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

The dam broke. I sobbed openly, shaking as years of guilt poured out of me. My mother pulled me into her arms, cradling me like I was a child again. Her hands stroked my hair, and she whispered, “It’s okay, Andrea. It’s okay. We’re here.”

The cabin felt smaller, suffocating with the weight of everything unsaid. But her embrace, her steady heartbeat against my cheek—it was enough to keep me from falling apart.

When I finally pulled away, wiping my face, I noticed Jake. He sat across from us, his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the window. He didn’t look at me. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable.

“Jake,” I said, my voice hoarse from crying. “Why did you help me?”

His gaze flicked to me, then to my mother, then back. He leaned back in his seat, his mouth curving into a humorless smile. “Let’s just say Jason and I have unfinished business,” he said.

There was more he wasn’t saying. I could see it in the way his fingers tapped against the armrest, the flicker of something darker in his eyes.

“Jake,” I pressed, leaning forward.

“Let it go, Andrea.” My mother’s voice was gentle but firm. Her hand found mine again, grounding me. “We’ll figure everything out later. For now, you need to rest.”

Rest. The word felt foreign. I didn’t know how to rest. Not anymore. But I nodded anyway, sinking back into my seat.

My mind drifted to Jason. I wondered if he had heard of my escape. He would be shouting his lungs out when he realized I was no longer in that prison he made for me. He had turned my life into a living hell, and now, I was more than ready to dine with the devil to bring him destruction.

He would cry for help, and no one would be there to save him.

Jason wasn’t aware of what was coming for him.

It would take him by surprise—like the wind before a storm