The Diary Of A Summer Well Lived

Chapter 28

The Morning After

Maya stirred from sleep, the sunlight streaming through her curtains, casting a soft, golden glow on her room. But the light did little to warm the cold knot of anxiety that had settled in her chest. Memories of the previous night flooded back, each one sharper than the last. Her best friend since childhood, Lisa, had betrayed her in the most hurtful way possible—by getting involved with Franclon, her first boyfriend, the one she had shared her deepest secrets with. And the worst part? It wasn't just Lisa. Mrs. Collen, Lisa's mother and her own mother's best friend, had been involved too, a silent accomplice in the entire charade.

Maya had grown up with Lisa, their lives intertwined like two vines on a trellis. Their mothers were inseparable, their friendship a bond forged over decades. The betrayal cut deep, and the wounds were fresh and raw. Maya felt like she was floating through a dream, unsure of what was real anymore. As she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, she couldn't shake the image of Lisa's face from her mind—how she had looked so apologetic yet unrepentant, a twisted mix of emotions that Maya couldn't decipher.

The house was quiet, almost eerily so. Maya's mother, Mrs. Scatt, had been unusually subdued since the conversation with Mrs. Collen. The two women had spent hours talking in the living room after their picnic date, their voices low and serious. Maya had overheard bits and pieces of their conversation, but none of it made any sense to her. She had expected her mother to be angry, to demand answers from Mrs. Collen, but instead, they had spoken in hushed tones, their words filled with a history that Maya couldn't fully grasp.

Finally, Maya forced herself out of bed. She couldn't stay hidden away in her room forever. She had to face the day, no matter how daunting it seemed. After a quick shower, she dressed in a simple sundress, something light and airy to counteract the heaviness she felt inside. As she brushed her hair, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked tired, older somehow, as if the events of the previous night had aged her overnight.

Maya made her way downstairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. The house was still quiet, and she wondered where her mother was. Probably in the kitchen, she thought. Mrs. Scatt always found comfort in cooking, especially when she was troubled. But as Maya entered the kitchen, she found it empty. The only sign of life was a half-empty cup of coffee on the counter, still steaming. Her mother must have been up for a while, but where had she gone?

A knock on the door startled Maya out of her thoughts. Her heart raced as she walked towards the front door, a part of her hoping it was her mother returning, but another part of her dreaded what was to come. When she opened the door, she was met with a sight that made her breath catch in her throat—Franclon stood there, holding a bouquet of roses, his face a mix of hope and regret.

"Maya," he began, his voice soft, almost pleading. "I'm so sorry. I heard about what happened, and I wanted to—"

"Franclon, you shouldn't be here," Maya cut him off, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to stay composed. The sight of him, standing there with the roses, was too much. It was a cruel reminder of everything that had gone wrong. "You have to leave."

"But I wanted to explain," Franclon insisted, stepping closer. The roses in his hand trembled slightly, a reflection of his own nervousness. "Please, Maya, just let me talk."

"There's nothing to explain," Maya said, her voice growing firmer. She could feel tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not now. Not in front of him. "You were with Lisa. My best friend. How could you do that to me?"

Franclon's face fell, the guilt evident in his eyes. "I didn't mean for it to happen, Maya. It just… it just did. But I regret it, I swear. I never wanted to hurt you."

Maya shook her head, the tears now blurring her vision. "It's too late, Franclon. Whatever we had, it's over. You need to leave before my mother sees you."

"But Maya—"

"Please," Maya pleaded, her voice breaking. "Just go."

Franclon hesitated for a moment, as if he was going to argue further, but then he saw the resolve in Maya's eyes. Slowly, he turned and walked away, the roses still clutched in his hand. Maya watched him go, her heart aching with every step he took. When he finally disappeared from view, she closed the door and leaned against it, finally allowing herself to cry.

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Maya's mother returned home a few hours later, her face lined with worry but saying nothing about the previous night. They went through the motions of the day, exchanging pleasantries, but the tension between them was palpable. Maya wanted to ask her mother what she and Mrs. Collen had talked about, what secrets had been shared, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, they danced around the issue, both of them too afraid to confront the truth head-on.

It wasn't until the afternoon that Maya's father, Mr. Scatt, arrived. He had been staying elsewhere since the separation, but he still came by to see Maya and her younger brothers, keeping up appearances for the sake of the children. As soon as he walked through the door, Maya could sense the shift in the atmosphere. Her mother's calm demeanor wavered, and there was a brief, strained exchange of words between them before Mr. Scatt turned his attention to his children.

"Hey, champ," Mr. Scatt said, ruffling the hair of his youngest son, who giggled in response. "How's my little man?"

The boys were thrilled to see their father, and for a while, the tension in the house eased. They played games and talked about school, their laughter filling the living room. But Maya noticed how her father's eyes kept darting to her mother, as if he was trying to gauge her mood. There was something unspoken between them, something that Maya couldn't quite put her finger on.

Finally, after the boys had gone outside to play, Mr. Scatt approached Maya. "How are you holding up, kiddo?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Maya managed a small smile. "I'm okay, Dad. Just… trying to figure things out."

Mr. Scatt nodded, his expression thoughtful. "If you ever need to talk, you know I'm here for you, right?"

"Thanks, Dad," Maya replied, appreciating the offer but unsure of how much she could actually share with him. Her father had always been supportive, but there were some things she wasn't ready to discuss with him, not yet.

After a few moments of silence, Mr. Scatt turned to his ex-wife. "We need to talk, Sarah."

Mrs. Scatt looked up, her eyes weary. "About what, Peter?"

"About the kids. About us," Mr. Scatt said, his tone firm but not unkind. "We need to figure out how we're going to handle things moving forward."

Maya excused herself from the room, not wanting to eavesdrop on her parents' conversation. She retreated to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. The walls of her room, once a sanctuary, now felt confining, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on her.