She never thought she’d see her sister again, until one ordinary afternoon when the doorbell rang, and standing there in a drizzle was the ghost of her past. Angela’s heart skipped a beat, wrestling between slamming the door shut and letting out the tears she’d held back for two decades.
Angela had buried the memories of Lauren deep within the layers of her heart, believing that some wounds were better left untouched. The last they spoke, words had flown like daggers, leaving scars too painful to forget. Lauren had left without a goodbye, and Angela had convinced herself that she’d moved on, but the truth was much harsher.
“Angela,” Lauren’s voice cracked, echoing her own hesitations. There was an awkward pause, the years of silence speaking louder than words.
“Lauren,” Angela managed, her voice barely a whisper. “What brings you here?”
“I… I wanted to see you,” Lauren replied, her eyes searching her sister’s face for a sign, any sign of welcome.
Angela stepped aside, allowing Lauren into the home that had once been their haven. Memories flooded back – childhood laughter, shared secrets, and then the inevitable fight that tore them apart.
In the living room, they sat on opposite ends of the couch, like bookends on the shelf of their shared history. “I know it’s been a long time,” Lauren started, her hands nervously twisting the fabric of her coat. “But I need to explain—”
“Explain why you left? Why you never called?” Angela interjected, her emotions a torrent she could no longer control.
Lauren’s eyes filled with tears. “I was scared, Angela. Scared of the mess I left behind. I thought it was better for you if I stayed away.”
Angela sighed, the anger she held onto for years mixing with an unfamiliar sense of understanding. “I was angry, Lauren. Angry that you didn’t trust me enough to stay, to fight through it together.”
The room fell silent, the weight of unspoken hurt looming between them. Lauren reached into her bag, pulling out a faded photograph of the two of them, arms wrapped around each other, happiness radiating from their faces.
“I kept this,” Lauren said, voice trembling. “It reminded me of the times we had, what we lost.”
Angela reached for the photograph, her fingers brushing against Lauren’s. The contact was electric, a connection through time that neither could ignore.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you fully,” Angela admitted, tears spilling over. “But maybe we can start anew?”
Lauren nodded, her own tears cascading. “I’d like that. More than anything.”
The two sisters embraced, a tentative hug filled with the promise of healing. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a beginning.
Later, as Lauren left, Angela watched her from the doorway, aware that the road to reconciliation would be long and uncertain. Yet, for the first time in years, hope had found a place in her heart again.