JASON
Mila was starting to be like me. I was only noticing it now.
At her age, I had kept so much buried inside. Even though she expressed herself more openly than I ever did, I could still hear the bitterness in her voice.
The bitterness that came from the people around us. From having to swallow too many things. From holding questions in your head that never get answered.
I hated our mother.
For a long time, I had hated her for what she did to our family. Even when I tried to blame our father for our home falling apart, I knew deep down it wasn't his fault.
He tried. He did his best to keep us together. She was the one who didn't want to wait. I remembered all of it.
Then there was the abuse from Bruce.
I sighed, shaking my head as if I could force the memories away.
I had learned to forgive. Or at least, I had learned to stop holding on so tightly to the past. I didn't want to live there anymore, so I moved forward the only way I knew how.
