Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN FORGIVENESS IS KEY
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Henry cleared his thro
gruffly. “Why don’t you both have a seat? I think we all need to…clear the air here.” Jasmine cautiously took a seat in the armchair, her nerves thrumming as she watched her father lower himself onto the couch beside Anita. Whatever was about to be said, it was clearly momentous enough that Anita needed the support and solidarity of her husband.
“Your mother told me about Elena,” Henry began in a low tone, looking sidelong at Anita. “She told me everything about having to give up your older sister all those years ago when she was just a kid herself.” Jasmine felt her throat constrict as the wounds from Anita’s revelation were ripped open anew. She stared at her mother, whose eyes remained downcast with shame.
“At first, Ill admit I was furious with your mom,” Henry continued, an undercurrent of pain edging his words. “Furious that she kept something that huge from me, from our whole family, for more than thirty years.
He sighed deeply, suddenly looking every one of his sixty years.
“But then…then I saw how much it was torturin‘ her, Jas,” he said, his voice taking on a softer timbre.” Eatin‘ away at her from the inside out all this time. This big ol‘ secret she’s been carryin‘ around like a bundle of rock
just waiting to come crashing down on all of us.”
Anita finally looked up then, red–rimmed eyes shining with unshed tears as she reached for Henry’s hand. Jasmine watched her father’s calloused fingers envelop her mother’s delicate ones in a tender grasp.
The simple intimacy of the gesture, one she’d witnessed a thousand times before, caused a lump to form in Jasmine’s throat.
“I forgave your mom, Jasmine,” Henry said in that same gentle rumble. “Don’t get me wrong – I’m still plenty mad at the situation itself.”
His jaw clenched momentarily as decades of anger bubbled up before he visibly mastered himself.
“But I understand why your mother felt she had to do what she did back then, even if I don’t agree with it. She was just a child herself, scared and alone with nowhere to turn.”
Henry’s deep brown eyes, so reminiscent of Jasmine’s own, bored into her, with an intensity that rattled her soul.
“What I can’t forgive is this divide it’s causing in our family now,” he stated firmly. “This rift that’s opened up between you and your mother over past secrets and mistakes. You two are cut from the same cloth. you’ve gotta stop this cycle of hurt and anger before it poisons everything.”
Jasmine felt her father’s words like a physical force, battering against her emotional defenses until they began to crack and splinter. She raised her gaze to meet Anita’s, seeing the bottomless well of remorse and anguish residing there.
“Your father’s right, Jasmine,” Anita spoke up in a tremulous voice. “I can’t excuse what I did, lying for all these years and keeping Elena from you. From this family. It was cowardly, it was selfish…it was single- handedly the worst decision I ever made.”
She swiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks, her features contorting with anguish.
“Every single day, I’ve lived with that mistake hanging over me, that guilt like a vise around my heart,”
Anita continued rawly. “I wanted to tell you, both of you, so many times. But I was terrified, paralyzed at the thought of doing further damage to this family, to what we had.”
Reaching out imploringly with her free hand, Anita’s eyes shone with desperation.
“I know I don’t deserve it, Jasmine,” she said in a trembling voice.
“I know I betrayed your trust in the worst possible way a mother can. But I’m begging you…please, give me a chance to make things right. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to both of you, to everyone, if you’ll only forgive me.”
Tears streamed unchecked down Jasmine’s face now as the dam of anger, resentment, and hurt finally cracked open.
In a startling moment of clarity, she saw her mother’s profound shame, her agony over this life–shattering mistake hovering between them like a spectral third–presence. Anita would carry this sin for the rest of her days, tormented by it whether Jasmine forgave her or not.
And in that moment, watching her parents clutch each other in quiet solidarity and sorrow, Jasmine’s heart screamed at her to stop perpetuating this cycle. To reach out and begin mending the ruptures carved into her family before it was too late.
With a choked cry, Jasmine rose and hurled herself into her mother’s waiting arms, all anger and deception shed between them.
Anita clutched her close with a broken keen, whispering endless apologies and reassurances of love.
Henry wrapped his strong arms around his wife and daughter, enveloping them both in a lion’s embrace as the three of them clung together, a long–fractured family finally reuniting.
One week later, Jasmine was startled awake by the incessant buzzing of her phone beside the bed. Blinking blearily at the harsh numbers of the alarm clock – 2:17am – she squinted at the screen to see Elena’s number flashing.
“Elena? It’s 2am, what’s going on?” Jasmine asked with concerned confusion, struggling to fully wake up.
There was a pregnant pause before Elena’s strained voice came through the receiver. “Jas…I–I’m so sorry to call you this late. I didn’t know who else to turn to.”
Jasmine was instantly more alert at the unmistakable tremor of distress in her sister’s tone. “Elena? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Another pause, then a shaky inhalation. “It’s my landlord. He…he came by tonight, totally drunk and enraged about me being late on rent again. He tried to force his way into my apartment, Jasmine. Screaming all these threats, slamming on the door…”
Jasmine felt icy tendrils of dread grip her heart as Elena’s words dissolved into muffled sobs.
“Oh my god…Elena, did he hurt you? Are you safe?” she asked urgently.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Elena managed in a trembling voice. “I locked the door and called the police. They came and took him away finally. But Jas…I can’t stay there anymore. I just can’t. Please…can I come stay with you for a little while? Just until I can get back on my feet and find a new place?“*
The vulnerability and fear in Elena’s words pierced Jasmine’s heart. She had finally started to work through the lingering doubts and trust issues with her sister after their emotional confrontation. Hearing Elena in such obvious distress immediately overshadowed any remaining hesitation.
“Of course, of course you can stay with me,” Jasmine replied without hesitation. “Pack a bag and I’ll come pick you up right now, okay?”
“Oh thank you, Jasmine,” Elena exhaled in profound relief. “Truly, I can’t tell you how much this means to me. I’ll be ready, I promise.”
Jasmine barely remembered throwing on clothes and scrambling out to her car. Her mind was consumed with protective urgency, an innate drive to shelter her sister from the horrors she had endured.
Twenty minutes later, she was pulling up outside the dilapidated apartment building Elena called home. Hér sister emerged looking shaken and drained, a small duffel clutched in a white–knuckled grip. Jasmine was out of the car in a flash, pulling Elena into a fierce embrace.
“It’s okay, it’s okay…you’re safe now,” she murmured over and over, cradling Elena’s trembling form.
Getting her settled back at the apartment, Jasmine fussed over making up the guest room for Elena, fluffing pillows and fussing with the covers like a mother hen. Her sister looked on with a wavering smile, seemingly reassured by Jasmine’s nesting overtures.
“Thank you, Jas…really, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” Elena said softly as she accepted a steaming mug of chamomile tea.
Jasmine squeezed her shoulders comfortingly. “You’ll always have me now, Elena. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”