Chapter 7 Facing it

Kayla's POV

With David gone, it became clearer to me how sad I was about the fact that my ex husband was wedding his ex girlfriend on our anniversary. This was no coincidence at all, he did this intentionally to hurt me. However, despite the pain, I knew it would take more than this to break me. My right thumb hovered above my cellphone screen, trembling as I scrolled through the five photos he posted on Instagram repeatedly. I didn't realize how many hours I had spent sulking for something that I could not change until I noticed the time on my phone screen. Past 11? I needed to check on my foster parents today like I had planned to do. As I prepared, I wondered what their reaction would be if they had found out on their own that Eric was getting married today being our third anniversary. They were never the strict type to have really strong rules despite not being wealthy. I still remember the day I proudly brought Eric home for the first time. I'll never forget the look on my foster dad's face as I excitedly shared more about Eric. While my foster mom could easily mask her emotions, my foster dad couldn't. He never smiled throughout our dinner together that night to an extent that even Eric noticed asking me what was his beef with him when I accompanied him out. I wanted to ask him why he didn't like Eric that day, but instead, he turned the question on me, saying, "Is that the boy you really want to marry?" I suppose older people truly have a deeper perspective. I never really took their advice seriously ever since they informed me at a young age that I wasn't their biological daughter but I suppose I really needed their advice at this moment. I raised my hand near the door, almost knocking, but then pulled it back, feeling deeply ashamed. Approaching them after neglecting them for so many years, only to become a burden once more was painful, but I had no alternative. "Are you the mailwoman?" someone called out from behind as I turned around to see my foster dad. He appeared to be returning home, but lost in my misery, I hadn't noticed. "Hey," I responded, trying to hold back tears. "Are you lost?" he asked, looking confused and it dawned on me that he didn't recognize me. "I don't think so, Dad," I replied, noticing his confused expression. "Kayla?" he questioned, clearly confused. I quickly ran up to him and gave him a hug. "You've changed a lot, Kayla," he managed to say as I hugged him tightly, crying. "I know dad," I responded as I pulled away from the hug. "You don't look okay, Kayla. What's wrong?" he asked gently, sensing my distress. I wanted to say something, however the tears didn't let me. "Let's go inside," he suggested, realizing I wasn't ready to talk about it just yet as I nodded in response. Entering the house brought back a flood of childhood memories and I found it amusing how very little had changed since then. Just then, a buzzing sound interrupted my nostalgic thoughts. I turned towards the source and noticed a stairlift carrying my foster mum down. Seeing her on it was confusing because she was only in her early 60s. My foster dad had returned with a cup of coffee but then noticed me watching her. She had earphones in and didn't even notice us since she wasn't looking in our direction. "What happened to Mum?" I asked, concerned. "Arthritis," he replied. "Come on, take a seat." He set the coffee down on the table but just as I was about to sit, my foster mum called my name. "Kayla? Is that really you?" I quickly ran to her and gave her a warm hug. "Oh, finally you have some meat on your bones," she teased, which made me happy to hear someone who wasn't disgusted by me. "Isn't that a bit much, Mum?" I managed to respond. "Just a little," she nodded, smiling. "He's not worth your tears Kayla." Those were the words of my foster mum after I explained everything that had happened to her. I felt like crying more, to express the depth of my pain, but her next statement made me pause. "You know you shouldn't be the one crying right now. He chose to marry someone else on the anniversary of your marriage but ended up losing a loving, caring woman like you." My foster dad chipped in saying, "He treated you poorly, daughter. Instead of crying over someone like him, focus that energy on improving yourself. Do not let him win." Their advice echoed in my mind as I sat down, staring at a bottle of vodka, feeling depressed. Earlier that evening, I had lied to them that I was going to take a walk around the neighborhood. But the neighborhood I had in mind was Paddy's Pub, a place I used to visit often back in the day. "Yo, look who it is," a masculine voice called out behind me as he approached me and took a seat at my table. I had developed quite a tolerance for alcohol, something Eric's behavior had only encouraged. So, despite feeling slightly drunk and my vision blurring, it didn't take long before I finally got a glimpse at the person talking to me. It was Jason, Eric's own brother. What was he doing here? For a guy like him, it seemed likely he had frequented every bar in the country obviously but why did fate have to bring us together now? Jason was even worse than his brother. Spoiled and arrogant, he viewed everyone as beneath him. Although he rarely stayed at the Watson mansion due to his playboy personality, he never failed to make life miserable for me whenever he was around. "Hey Jason, what are you doing with that fat shawty over there? Come back here brother," one of his friends called out however I refused to turn back, trying to figure out what he was up to this time. "No, you guys come over here," Jason responded. "This is my brother's ex-wife, the fat one we were just talking about."