Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kristen
I was standing on the front lines in my military uniform. There was a rifle in my hand, and I felt ready for battle. Smoke and dust filled the air, and I couldn’t see two feet in front of me. I knew that I was surrounded, and I knew that I would have to act fast if I wanted to survive.
I was about to charge into the fray when Daphne materialized in front of me. She was wearing a white dress with bloodstains on the front of it. Her hair was wet and plastered to her face, and her eyes were sad—but there was a savage wildness about her that I didn’t quite understand.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Me?” Daphne asked. “This is my world; you are the one who shouldn’t be here.”
I looked around me, and suddenly, I knew that bombs were about to rain down on both of us. “We have to go,” I told her. “Or we’re both going to die.”
Daphne stood where she was and shook her head at me. “This is what you signed up for,” she said. “This is what you asked for when you stole my life.”
I felt my body grow cold. “I didn’t steal anything,” I protested.
“That’s my uniform you’re wearing,” she said.
I looked down at the nametag on the front of my uniform and realized the nametag read Daphne. I started breathing fast as I tried to keep my calm. “Daphne, we have to go…”
“You’re just like your mother,” she said with venom. “She took my father away from my mother, and you’re doing the same to me.”
“That’s not fair,” I screamed. “It’s not the same thing.”
Daphne shook her head at me. “It’s exactly the same. You just don’t want to admit that you’re like her.”
Then the bombs rained down on us, and I crashed to the ground, knowing that I was drowning, knowing that I was dying.
I woke up thrashing around in my bed, gripping my sheets as though I were grappling for life. A thin gleam of sweat glimmered on my skin, and I felt weak and out of breath. I got out of bed and walked to my window to get some fresh air. The nightmare had me feeling dejected and panicked, and I realized that my denial wasn’t going to hold out for much longer.
It was six in the morning, and thankfully, I didn’t have to beat work today. I went to the bathroom for a quick shower, hoping that I could shake off the terrible nightmare and the sinking feeling it had left me with. I changed into jeans and a soft sweater and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast.
I rummaged around in the fridge, having decided to make myself an omelet, but then I realized I probably wouldn’t be able to hold anything down. I ended up sitting on my couch, staring at the blank screen of my television, wondering what on earth was wrong with me. Just as I was thinking that, my phone started vibrating, and I looked down to see that my mother was calling me.
“Oh God,” I whispered. “Maybe I’m still having the nightmare.”
I knew I shouldn’t have, but the dream I’d just had was still influencing me, and I felt compelled to answer the call. The moment I picked up, my mother spoke in her blunt and infuriating tone.
“Praise the Lord, you actually picked up.”
“Should I regret that?”
“It’s been weeks since we last spoke.”
“You were being difficult,” I reminded her.
“Excuse me?” Mom asked, sounding affronted.
“Don’t act innocent,” I said accusingly. “You were trying to bait me, and you succeeded…as usual.”
“As usual, you insist on misunderstanding every single thing I say to you,” she said, sounding annoyed. “I wasn’t trying to bait you, at all. I was trying to advise you.”
“Oh really?” I said. “Is that what you were doing?”
“Seriously, Kristen, think about what you’re doing,” Mom continued. “You’re in San Diego; you’re working under your brother-in-law who has no clue who you are. Do you really think this is going to end well?”
I was about to defend myself, but then I stopped short. It was only the denial spurring forward my self-righteousness. The truth was I was scared about everything that she was saying. Maybe instead of going on the defensive, it would actually help me to talk to her about everything.
“I… I’m scared,” I admitted shakily.
“What?” she asked. I could tell she was shocked by my admission. She had expected anger and indignation, and she wasn’t prepared for self-doubt and insecurity.
“I’m scared,” I said clearly. “I… I know I screwed up by not telling Jake who I really was. I just… Things happened so fast and… I just didn’t say anything, and then I felt like it was too late.”
“You sound like you care a lot about him,” she observed.
“Yes,” I said, deciding not to lie about that. “I do care about him. I care about Noah, too.”
“You’ve spent time with his son?” Mom sounded shocked.
“I babysit for him,” I admitted. “Every once in a while.”
“You are sleeping with him,” she said bluntly.
“No—”
“Don’t bother denying it, Kristen,” she said. “I don’t even have to see your face to know the truth. I can hear it in your voice. You’re in love with the man.”
I stuttered and stumbled, and that gave me away. “Fuck,” I said, at last.
“Do you see now?” Mom asked suddenly, as her tone changed.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Do you understand my perspective now, at least?”
“I still don’t understand.”
She sighed. “You always judged me for my relationship with your father. You ridiculed me for the choice I had made. But I never really had a choice because you can’t choose who you love. It happens to you when you least expect it. And sometimes the person you fall in love with is not the ‘right’ person, he’s not the ‘conventional’ choice, but…he’s the one you love, and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about it.”
I was silent for a moment, amazed and astounded by how she had managed to justify her life away. Despite the new burst of anger in my gut, I forced myself to stay calm and talk this out.
“You never felt guilty?” I asked. “About the fact that you were cheating with another woman’s husband?”
“She was not a good wife to him, Kristen,” Mom said.
“So?” I demanded. “What is that supposed to mean? She deserved to have been cheated on?”
“Your father and I were in love,” she said. “Our love was worth everything.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
I shook my head and gave a crackle of ironic laughter.
“What?”
“If your love was worth everything, then why didn’t Dad man up, leave Isabelle, and marry you instead?” I demanded. “If he loved you so damn much, then why didn’t he just divorce Isabelle for you?”
I knew I had stumped her. I knew I had backed her into a corner with my logic, but she was too desperate and too proud to admit to that.
“You don’t understand anything—”
“I understand more than you do,” I said bitingly. “Ted never really loved you; you were just a distraction from his mundane life. He liked having someplace he could go to when his life with Isabelle got boring. He knew you would look after him and cook for him and lend him money when he needed it. He’s been using you for more than two decades now, and he’s going to continue to use you for as long as he can because you refuse to open your eyes and see what’s really happening.”
There was silence on the other line. The breathing I could hear was growing a little erratic, and I knew that I had upset her badly. I didn’t care. She was trying to draw common ground between us, and I wanted her to know that I was nothing like her.
“What do you know about anything?” she said after a long silence. “You’re just a selfish brat who’s never had to struggle for anything in her life.”
“I had to raise myself,” I practically yelled at her.
“Excuse me?”
“You were too busy working to support Ted and doting on him anytime he deigned to give you the time of day—”
“Don’t,” Mom interrupted, and she sounded almost hysterical. “Don’t…”
“Have you even thought about the fact that Isabelle divorced him years ago, and he still hasn’t married you?” I demanded.
“I… I…” she could only stutter in response.
“Have you asked him why, Mom?” I demanded. “Have you asked him why he hasn’t married you even after this first wife left him? Have you ever thought about the fact that he’s doing to you the same thing he did to Isabelle?”
“What… What are you saying?”
“He probably has other women,” I said bluntly. “He’s probably got another mistress holed up somewhere. He probably goes to her whenever he disappears for a few weeks. Hell, he may have another child or two hidden away somewhere. Who the fuck knows?”
“What did I ever do to you?” she asked tearfully. “To make you treat me so badly?”
I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment. “I’m being honest,” I said. “If you don’t like the truth, then maybe you need to re-evaluate your life.”
I heard her scoff in anger. “You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you, Kristen?” she asked. “You look down your nose at me. But since you love the truth so much, I have another truth for you. You’re just like me.”
“I am nothing like you,” I hissed.
“You’re lying to Jake, aren’t you?” she continued as though she hadn’t heard me. “You’ve snuck yourself into his life, you’re spending time with his son, and you’re asking him to trust you… Do you really think you have a right to the high ground when you’re cheating Jake out of the truth?”
She had me stumped. I tried to defend myself, but I realized that I couldn’t. Was this really what my dream had been about? I wondered.
“Do you think Daphne will want to see you with her husband?” Mom continued. “Do you think she’ll want you raising her child?”
“I am going to tell him,” I said softly as a tear slipped down my cheek.
“When? After he’s put a ring on your finger? After you’ve well and truly trapped him?”
“I would never do that,” I said, trying to control my voice.
“And everything you’ve done up until now?” she demanded. “I bet you never thought you’d go this far, did you? And yet, here you are.”
“Well, I never really had anyone to look up to, did I?” I shot at her.
She laughed. “Of course, blame me,” she said. “Didn’t you just accuse me earlier in this phone call of blaming Isabelle?”
I felt the words dry on my tongue as I realized she was right. My dream had been pointing to this very thing. Maybe I wasn’t as different from my mother as I had always thought. Maybe under my veil of self-righteousness, I was just like her.