Alex's POV

"For months I couldn't look at him, I just couldn't and he didn't even seem sorry you know? How does someone just do that?" She looks at me from where she is standing next to me on the balcony. It's a rhetorical question but the way she looks at me makes me feel as though she expects me to give her an answer.

Taking a deep breath she looks down at the city. It is beautiful, quite the view and had it been a different situation that brought me here I would have loved to explore it.

"I'm telling you this because I no longer know what to do with it in my head, it's a lot for one person to keep. I couldn't tell anyone, not even Chris and it made me such a sad person. I'm not a sad person," she says shaking her head. I nod, urging her to go on. She needs to talk, and I am here to listen. Always.

"My mom, she was always so strong and I am sure if I hadn't seen them that day, she wouldn't have told me. I didn't understand how someone could be so cavalier about the breakdown of more than twenty years of marriage but I also admired her strength, the strength to take his rubbish and still be able to wake up, breath and even smile. But, a person can only take so much before they eventually break." Although she isn't crying I know this is hard for her and the sighs and deep breaths tell me she is barely holding herself together. I rub her arm, showing her that I am here for her.

"She eventually cracked, my gosh she cracked," she laughs humorlessly, "at first it was just her telling my dad to get himself his own driver because the ones we had at home, had all been hired by her. Then I started noticing she wasn't sleeping in her bedroom anymore, I didn't get that, I thought that she deserved to stay in her bedroom and he had to be kicked out but then one night I got the biggest shock of my life. I got up around 2 in the morning, I was hungry and I needed something from the kitchen. On my way I heard sounds, sounds no one would ever want to hear from a parent. They were having sex in my parents' bedroom. My father had his mistress in my mother's bed. I was so shocked I thoughtlessly walked into the guest room my mother was occupying, I don't know what I expected but she was awake and all she said to me was, "get out." After that night she never left her room, barely ate and barely talked."

"I'm so sorry Kris," I say to her. She nods and gives me a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"I wish that was all of it but it's not. When my brother eventually found out about Ruby it had been a while. He came home and I had to tell him, I had to. By that time Ruby was basically living with us, together with her son and mom was physically around but mentally and emotionally she was gone. Chris asked her, begged her to throw dad out of the house or to at least allow us to move out but she steadfastly said no. She always said she loved dad and I didn't get that. A week before Chris had to leave for school he died and I was shattered. Ruby and Dave attended the funeral and it made me hurt like hell."

"So Dave is Ruby's son?" I ask her and she nods.

"Anyway, a year later on the day I finished my O'Level finals I got home to find an ambulance in our driveway. Sylvia was in tears and my dad stood on the steps shaking his head in disappointment. Not regret or sadness, disappointment. Ruby and Dave were nowhere to be seen and deep down I wished it was Dave who was in that ambulance. I wished it was him and I wished the ambulance had come too late. But my wishes don't come true, I don't have an angel looking out for me, I just don't." She shakes her head as tears start streaming down her cheeks.

"It was my mother. There was blood all over her and she was dead. Her clothes looked so big on her and she was so frail but what stood out the most was the blood. It was everywhere on her, her face, her neck and mostly on her hands. She cut herself, not just once, not the way someone would do if they just simply wanted to die. She cut herself so deeply, so many cuts, I don't know why she did that to herself. She tortured herself to her death, never have I seen so many cuts on a person. She killed herself and all she left me was a letter. The first person who left me a letter when they died. And now I am back here because of a letter my grandfather wrote me before he died, at least he didn't kill himself."

I can't say anything that will make her feel any better, so I do what I know best. I hold her in my arms and hope that I am enough.

Later in the evening after having our dinner, I walk Kris to her room. "You know I don't mind you sleeping in my room?"

"Oh I know you wouldn't mind that Xander," she laughs, "but I need to do something and you," she points at me as she takes out her key card, "are going to help me."

"What are we doing?" I ask getting in behind her.

"Come," she motions for me to follow her. I follow her into her room where she goes to one of her suitcases and takes out an envelope. It looks a bit old and it is unopened.

"This is the letter she left me. I haven't read it and you are going to read it for me," she says handing it to me. She is putting on a brave face but I can tell this is making her nervous.

"Are you sure you want me to?" I ask her as I hold the envelope in my hand.

"No," she shakes her head, "but if you don't read it I will never have the guts to read it by myself."

"Okay," I say looking at her.

"Where should we sit?" She asks me rubbing her hands along the sides of her dress.

"Anywhere you want to."
"Okay, uhm, the balcony. I like it there and if I don't like the words they won't be trapped in this room. The wind can blow them away."

I nod, even though her theory doesn't make much sense.

We head to the balcony, sitting on the chaise that are beautifully laid out.

"Come here," I say to her before we sit down. I draw her into my arms, assuring her that all will be fine. She pulls back after a few seconds and looks me in the eye. I see fear in them and it tugs at my heart. I just want her to feel safe and to be okay. She leans in and places her lips on mine. I kiss her back, I haven't kissed her in over two weeks and somehow I know she is going to be okay, we are going to be okay.

"Are you ready?" I ask her as I open the letter in my hands. She is sitting close to me but not close enough to read the letter with me. She nods, and I start. Trying to read the letter in a neutral voice.

"Dear Kris

First of I want to say I am so sorry. I am sorry for not being strong enough to leave your father when I was meant to. I'm sorry for not being strong enough to bring myself up to be a better person. I'm sorry but you need to understand that when your father and I got married, my life changed. I changed my life to accommodate him and I became his wife in every sense of the word. His world became mine and my life basically revolved around him. So when he took Ruby as his mistress I thought it would blow over that he would come back to me after he realized that she couldn't love him as much as I do. Unfortunately, things didn't turn out that way and when he started bringing her to our house, trying to drive me out I just couldn't leave. I tried, believe me, I would go to sleep every night telling myself the next day I would wake up and leave but when the next morning came, I couldn't do it but I did try.

I gave up, I know I did. I just couldn't fathom a world without your father in it. I couldn't do it. When Chris came home he did convince me to try harder and I felt myself getting somewhere but then he went on and died and my world just shattered into tiny little pieces. I have been living in pain for the past two years, even more this past year. Chris' death has left me so hollow and I can no longer fight. I cannot fight anymore and I am sorry. I raised you to be a strong woman, you will survive. I love you and I am sorry I cannot be a good enough mother to live for you but I have tried this past year and I can no longer do it.

Don't let your father, or Ruby ruin you like they did me. Push, fight and survive. Cry for me when you lay me down in the cemetery. It might be too much to ask but knowing that you and grandmother will cry for me will make me feel like I am loved even when I am gone. I am so sorry Kris but I can't live without my husband or my son.

Your mother."

I clear my throat, the huge lump refusing to go away. Kris is looking down at her hands and a few tears fall to her dress.

"I didn't cry for her at her funeral. She chose to die and leave me. She chose Chris over me, that's what I thought when I saw her on that gurney. That she didn't love me enough. I didn't cry for her."

"It's okay Kris. You will be okay, you are a survivor and you will push through."

She takes the letter from me and tears it into tiny pieces.

"I just don't know how much more I can take," she sighs.