;if the end cannot justify the means - what can?

Black.

It's everywhere.

Left. Black.

Right. Black.

Floor. Black.

Shirts, dresses, trousers, shoes.

All. Black.

Until you look to the sky.

Soft hue of blue with white fluffy clouds slowly gliding right as the world beneath our feet spins so fast, we don't even know it's moving.

How did it come to this? Why did it come to this?

All she had to do was accept my help. Take my money, then she'd still be here. I paid for treatments, she didn't show up. I booked home calls, she ignored the door.

No amount of begging, pleading and crying was going to change her mind.

I can't help but think she didn't want help. She didn't want to get better. She was selfish.

Cancer is something that's plagued me over the years.

First Cameron Hills - Maddox and mine's best friend.

Yeah, granted, he beat it the two times he had it, but those were the most turbulent moments of our lives - you didn't know whether you were coming or going, whether to prepare for loss or celebrate a life.

Luckily for us we celebrated.

He was here, healthy and happy.

Married to a beautiful nurse and is a father to two beautiful twin boys they adopted when the couple found out Cammy wouldn't be able to have children due to the months on end he spent on treatment.

We love Cammy so much our son was named after him - Hilton Cameron Hunter - Hilton, as in Hills.

My black dress swayed to the side as the light breeze brushed past me. My two minute up do was now hanging low on my neck with escaped stands framing my face. Bare face red and blotchy and eyes looking eerily similar to that of a stoners - I can't move them though.

My gaze fixed on the marble stone ahead of me. A long rectangle of fresh mud sits below it along with a single white rose.

The breeze blows me again, whipping my loose hair across my face, thin stands sticking to the wet tears.

I shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be here.

A comforting and familiar scents surrounds me with the breeze as I feel his heat at my back, I instantly fall backwards into him, my arms wrapping myself in a hug as his follows to cover me up.

"I got you." he whispers.

He's always got me. He's always had me. At my best, my worst, my most beautiful and my absolute ugliest. He was always there. Waiting.

"I can't believe she did this to us." I murmur. My blood runs faster turning my beating heart erratic. "How could she do this to us!?" My voice raising. "She was our mother and she did nothing!" I yell at her stone. "She did nothing to try and stay with us! Who does that!?"

Maddox comes to a stop in front of my body, pulling me into his chest as he strokes my back and whispers that it's okay as I sob into my husbands shoulder.

I shake my head against his black suit. "It's not okay." I cry. "It's not okay at all. I would never do that to Faith or Hilton. Never."

He shushes me gently. "I know you wouldn't, baby. I know."

"How could she do it so easily?"

Resting his chin on the crown on my head, he mumbles. "I don't know, Bella. I really don't know."

What's worse is my brother isn't even here to be with me. I don't blame him, he's got his own life now. He's a grown, married man with a family to take care of and a career to focus on. No matter how much I wanted him here, I'm glad he doesn't have to see me like this.

Eli never did have a good relationship with our mom.

It was me he turned too when shit hit the fan, when he was so down and scared of relapsing, he came to me, spoke to me, cried to me, leaned on me.

I was his rock. Not her.

We love our mom, she's our mom after all, but she didn't have screw up with some of the choices she made. Like not accepting treatment first of all.

I pull back from my husbands arms, sniffling and aggressively wiping away my tears.

"Have you checked in on Jason?"

Maddox nods. "Just before I came out. The kids are running him raggered." he jokes. "Safe to say we'll be going home to a bomb site, but at least we'll be going home to happy children."

I breathe out a small laugh. The mere thought of Faith and Hilton bulldozing their way around the house knowing their Uncle Jason won't do shit because he's the fun one.

"You ready to leave, baby? Or I can cancel our flight if you're not." Maddox speaks up. "Whatever you want, we'll do."

I look up at my husband with a small smile and a tilted head.

"How did I get so lucky to marry a guy like you, huh?"

"You didn't." Maddox pops a shoulder with a tilted smirk. "I just didn't take no for an answer." he winks.

I roll my eyes.

He certainly didn't.

Married for ten years and he's still the boy I met in college.

The big ego'd, baller bastard who I couldn't help but fall in love with.

A shadow washed over us, in the corner of my eye I see my dad lingering.

He places a hand on Maddox's shoulder and grasps it. "Do you mind if I have a minute with my daughter, please, son."

"Not at all, sir." my husband replies.

Placing a soft but firm kiss on my temple that makes my eyes close temporarily before he steps away and leaves me and my dad alone.

"Is everything okay, dad?" I ask, eyeing him warily.

Taking in a huge, deep breath and slowly releasing it when he digs into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulling out a creamy looking envelope.

"Your mother wrote this when she knew the cancer was getting worse." he tells me, looking down at the paper in his hands. "She wrote you both one each."

His stretches his arm out and hands me the letter.

"She loved you kids. And whatever she did, it was for the both of you. Just remember that when you're reading that, Tee. Okay?"

I nod.

My dad pauses for a second, his eyes focused on my mothers headstone, slowly pulling it away and he steps back towards the church.

My eyes drift to the letter. My mothers handwriting decorating the front with one, simple, word.

Tori

I tear open the stuck down triangle and pull out the lined A4 paper. The scent of home invades my nose.

Some people go through their entire life missing something that plagued their mind without letting it affect them.

I am now one of these people. But I wasn't always.

Eleven years ago my parents up rooted my brother and I from everything we knew - twice.

From living in London, UK to moving to New York City.

At first it was a huge and drastic change. I mean come on, we knew nothing about how America's lived. How they socialised, how their school system works, what's in and what's not. It's a totally different way of life from how we lived in England.

Fortunately, Americans are suckers for a British accent, which was breath of fresh air when it came to meeting new people, making friends and attending new schools.

From that point on, NYC was my home. I was a New Yorker and proud.

Until that day when me and my brother, Eli, came home from class one day to find a thick-filled-tension that was suffocating to walk through - that's the day they told us we were moving, again.

Apart of me was thankful it wasn't to another country, I was barely getting the hang of being American. The other part of me was furious and wanted nothing but answers - answers I wasn't getting. No matter how hard I tried, how red I turned in the face from arguments, how many times I cried - they wasn't giving me shit.

I pried open the letter and began to read in my head.

My darling girl,

If you're reading this then it means I'm no longer around, or you've wore me down with your constant pestering - either way it's time you know the truth.

The truth you deserve, have always deserved.

Now, what I'm about to tell you shouldn't be taken lightly. I was young, dumb and in love.

Are you sure you want to continue? If no, burn this letter and never think of it again.

But if I know you, and Miss Tori Quinn, I do. I know you're going to continue, so prepare yourself.

It all started when I was seventeen and in my last year of school when I met your dad. His golden rings he called eyes. A full head of dark brown hair that looked like expensive, rich chocolate and a tan that was all year round. I fell, and fell hard. So hard that I lost all my firsts to him.

I won't go into details as such, but the one detail you need to know. Both of you. Is that your dad, is not your dad.

You're real dad was an Irish man named Kevin Bowler - a bad boy, thug living in riches, a menace to the world around him.

He had no part of being in yours, or your brothers lives.

And when I tell you he's bad news, Tori. I mean it. He's not someone you want around you, your children, your partner, your brother.

He's the reason we left London. He's the reason we left New York.

He threatened to take you both away from me, kidnap you if he had the chance. I'd rather die then let that man have you. You're my babies, not his.

So I took you and ran. Ran far and wide, to somewhere he could never find us.

Until he did.

But I don't want you to hate me for it anymore. I don't want you to hate your dad.

The man that has loved you as his own for your entire lives. Who would die for you. Who would kill for you. Who would give you the shirt off his back. Because you are his children. Blood doesn't make you family, don't you agree?

And now you know.

I'm glad you know.

I just hope you can forgive me and your dad.

We never wanted to lie. We didn't want to hurt you. We just wanted you both safe, happy, protected and loved.

If the people you are today shows us anything, is that we provided that. The bond you and your brother share is like no other. Cherish it.

Forever my love.

Forever my heart.

I love you, my sweet little girl.

Love, Mom x

And there's the truth ladies and gentlemen.

One thing my mother said was right. Blood doesn't make you family. And my dad is my dad, regardless of DNA.

Rushing into the hall where drinks and food were placed on linen covered tables, I scan the room and spot my dad - talking with a relative I honestly can't place. I ran to him. To my dad. And I wrap my arms around his neck so tightly you'd think I was scared he was going to float away, tears burn my eyes, but I don't care. My dad is, and always will be, my dad.

I'm just glad I finally know the truth.

An embodied weight lifts from me and suddenly breathing is easy.

"I love you, Dad." I mumble into his shoulder.

✫✬✫

Maddox sits behind the wheel of our rental as he drives us back to the airport.

The wake came and went, and after the letter and a deep conversation with my dad, I felt lighter.

Over the years I slowly started to accept the fact that I may never get the truth, I was going to die never knowing the truth.

So, I guess I'm going to think of this as the last gift my mother will ever give me, and it's a damn well good one.

"Everything okay over there?" my husband asks, giving me a quick side glance. "You're awfully quiet."

I flick on his playlist I made when we were still in college and clicked on the Lauv - I like me better track.

The memories come flooding back of our first christmas together spent at my nans NYC apartment with our friends.

I still love him like I did back then, if not more so now.

He was my Baller, I was his Bella.

I lean over the centre console as the song begins to play and kiss his cheek. "I'm perfectly happy, Baller." I whisper against his soft skin. "Now lets get home to our babies."

"As you wish, Bella."