CHAPTER NINE

Liam

Present Day

I was as pissed as shit. I don’t know why seeing Crystal with another guy still bothered me, but the fact remained. She was pretty happy to see her date – Trevor Armstrong – the last guy in the world I had ever expected to see her going out with.

I knew their story, everyone did, and despite how pitiful it seemed – I never stopped looking after her. I tried to stop spying on her, I tried to not think about her, and even missed a few of their family events that I never missed before the night that ruined it all. I ruined it all. I knew I should probably talk to Stan and tell him about my feelings for his sister, but for some sick reason I preferred to act like a coward and got what I deserved in the end. She hated me and there was nothing I could do to change it.

But there was one thing that wouldn’t let me go. Her scar.

Tonight was the second time I saw it and I just couldn’t make myself stop thinking about it. The thing looked terrible. No doubt, the cut was deep. From what I could see, the stitches were made in a hurry, and I wondered why having one very talented plastic surgeon for a brother, she never tried to fix it.

 

I didn’t realize where I was going until the moment I rang the doorbell of Stanley’s house. He and Crystal lived with their parents, and considering the late hour, I hope my visit wouldn’t wake up the entire place.

“Liam?” Stan opened the door and frowned. “What happened? Are you okay?” He looked out into the street carefully.

“May I come in? We need to talk.”

“Sure.” He gave me a puzzled look. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“Nothing too strong.”

“Coffee then?”

I nodded and followed Stanley into the kitchen.

“So, what brought you here tonight?”

I took a seat on one of the chairs at the table and sighed. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“How did Crystal get that scar on her chest?”

A cup Stan had been holding in his hands started to shake. He swallowed and put it on the kitchen counter. He inhaled deeply and said, “It happened a long time ago. Why?”

“I saw her scar, accidentally. But I didn’t remember her getting hurt. That’s all. But… The thing looks pretty bad. Has she ever asked you or any other doctor to fix it?”

Stan ran one hand through his hair and sat down on a chair next to mine. With his eyes glued to his hands, he said, “You can’t remember her getting hurt, because I am the only the person who knows what happened that night…”

“What night?”

Stan shook his head, as if he couldn’t decide whether he had the right to tell me more or not. But something was telling me that I wasn’t going to like whatever it was that he seemed to be lacking the courage to tell me.

Finally, he said, “It happened the night of her eighteenth birthday.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“I thought she went to her room… She didn’t tell me she wanted to go out…” He stood up and walked to one of the cupboards, took out a bottle of scotch and poured some into a glass. After he took a sip, he proceeded. “She called me later that night and told me to take my medical kit and come to the address she texted me. She didn’t explain anything… But when I got there, I saw the worst of my nightmares coming true right in front of my eyes.” Stan swallowed the rest of his drink and poured another one.

“I think I need one too after all,” I said, pointing at the bottle.

He nodded and made a drink for me as well.

“What happened to her?”

Stan smirked humorless. “I wish I knew.”

I frowned. “What do you mean? Didn’t she tell you anything?”

“She said she would tell me everything later. But it never happened.” He looked at me with his eyes full of tears. It was the first time I’d seen my friend seconds from crying. “I had my guesses, but she never confirmed or denied any of them.”

“Do you think she had been…” God, I couldn’t even begin to imagine saying aloud what I was thinking.

But Stanley didn’t need me to finish the sentence. He knew what I was thinking.

“There were a few bruises on her hands and her legs, and one on her cheek as well.”

My fingers tightened around the glass. For a second I thought the thing would break.

“What happened after you found her?” I asked.

Swirling the drink in his glass, Stan said, “I helped her as much as I could, considering the contents of my med kit were not even close to enough to operate on the wound.”

“Why didn’t you take her to the hospital?”

“She didn’t want anyone to know about what had happened to her. She knew that coming to the hospital would immediately lead to the police getting involved. Doctors never leave things like that unreported.”

“So what did you do?”

“I disinfected the wound and stitched it up. The only needle I had in my med kit was too thick, but I had no choice.” Stan put the glass on the table and hid his face in his hands.

I let out a long breath, trying to put together everything he had told me. I was the last person who saw her in the house. What time did she leave? Where did she go? Why did she decide to go out?

“We never talked about that night,” Stanley said. “She asked me to take her to the lake house and tell our parents she would stay there for another week or so. I did what she told me to do, but I never stopped blaming myself for not taking her to the hospital, for listening to her and letting the bastards responsible for what happened to her stay unpunished.” Anger filled Stan’s every word. I couldn’t blame him, because if I were him, I would feel the same way.

“So neither she nor you ever told your parents about that night?”

He shook his head as a ‘no’.

“But the scar is huge. Didn’t any of them ever see it?”

“Starting that year, Crystal never went on vacations with us. She either went alone or stayed at home. She never wore anything that would reveal the scar. She threw away all of her bikinis and said she didn’t want me or anyone else to operate on her scar, because it was her punishment for being reckless and stupid. I never tried to push it. But I know that she still lives with that pain. She hates her birthdays and never invites anyone apart from her family and Liz to celebrate it with her. And no matter how many times I wanted to talk to her about the night that happened six years ago, I never dared to ask my questions. Do you think I’m doing the right thing by keeping my mouth shut?” He turned to look at me, probably seeking support, but unfortunately, I was the last person in the world to discuss the events of that night with.

Because even without talking to Crystal, I somehow knew I was the reason for whatever happened to her back then. As well as I knew I owed her an apology. Only words wouldn’t change a damn thing.

“I gotta go,” I said, after I swallowed the remnants of my drink.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” Stan asked, watching me leave the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about that.”

I left the house in a hurry, feeling as sick as ever. Not even the fresh air could make me feel better. And to make things worse, Crystal and her date just had to show up out of nowhere.

I walked to my car, watching the bastard park at the front door of her house. He kissed her cheek and said something that made her laugh. She then got out of the car and waved him goodbye.

“Enjoyed your night?” I couldn’t take back my words once they flew out of my mouth. I was so angry, I would probably punch her smiling date in the face if he dared to talk to me.

She turned to the sound of my voice and her face turned into an iceberg. “What are you doing here?” She asked in a cold voice.

For a moment, I felt like sending to hell all those years I spent trying to make myself believe that she didn’t mean anything to me, come closer and kiss her the way I had been dreaming of kissing her for so long. But then I saw the look in her eyes and my dreamy plan broke right there and then, shattering into a million tiny pieces, each and every one of which was filled with agony.

“I needed to talk to your brother,” I said. “But don’t worry, I’m leaving.”

“Good.” She blessed me with another hateful look and walked to the door.

“Crystal?” I called after her.

She stopped and said without turning around, “What?”

“I’m sorry…” I said, not quite sure what I was apologizing for: failing to meet her expectations, being a coward or ruining her to the level beyond understanding. Probably for all the above. She turned her head and for the first time in years, I saw her look soften. There was no hate in her eyes; they were full of sadness and pain that I knew I would never be able to take away.

Unable to stand the look she gave me, I got into my car, started the engine and hit the gas pedal, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world. Even now, I acted like a fucking coward. And instead of talking to her, I was running away, again. Just like I did that night, six years ago, when I thought I didn’t deserve her. I still didn’t…

By the time I returned home, I was as wasted as ever. I didn’t remember where I left my car, or how I got home, or what my last name was. The only thing I knew for sure was that I ruined Crystal’s life and she would never forgive me for what I did.

I was being an idiot letting her so close to me and then pushing her away when I knew she was ready to do anything for me, even lose her virginity with me, simply because she thought I was worth it. But I wasn’t. And now, I knew it better than ever.

I tripped over something lying on the floor and fell down, crashing into Kimmy’s favorite vase.

Cursing, I stood up and turned the lights on.

“Crap,” I mumbled, taking a piece of glass out of my palm. Blood started to drip on the marble floor.

“Liam, is that you?” Kimmy called from down the hall. A few moments later, she walked into the entryway. “Oh, my God! Your hand!” She ran up to me and took my bleeding hand in hers.

“It’s nothing,” I slurred. “It’s just a tiny scratch.”

“You are drunk.” She finalized.

“I guess I am.” I took a few steps forward and bumped into the wall.

“Double crap.” I shook my wounded hand; the wound started to tickle. I hated the damn feeling. Being a doctor didn’t change the fact that I hated being hurt. “Bring me something to cover it up,” I said.

“Come with me.” Kimmy helped me get to the kitchen and cleaned my wound without saying a word. She was probably scared, she had never seen me like this before, and neither had I. No matter how many times I got drunk, I never felt as shitty as I did tonight.

“Do you want a cup of tea?” She asked carefully.

“No, thanks. I want to go to bed.” All I wanted now was to die, but she didn’t need to know that.

I knew Kimmy wouldn’t ask any questions until I would tell her everything myself. She was just that well-brought-up, never asking unnecessary questions, always understanding and supportive, and probably the best wife I could wish for, if only it weren’t for the fact that she was marrying me because that was what she and I thought would be best for our child. I presumed that she did have feelings for me, but I doubted I would ever be able to feel anything but sympathy for her.

“I’ll crash here,” I said, walking into the living room. The couch looked like a perfect place to sleep off my hangover.

“I’ll bring you a blanket.” Kimmy helped me take off my shoes and jacket.

I laid down on the couch and my world started to spin. Even with my eyes closed, I felt like I was on a fucking carousel, spinning faster and faster with every passing second. I hoped I wouldn’t vomit.

I passed out even before Kimmy returned to cover me with a blanket. For the first time in my life, I welcomed the dizziness that I knew would take me away from my reality, even though my blissful trance wasn’t going to last forever.

 

The next thing I knew, it was morning, with the first rays of morning sun waking me up and my phone vibrating somewhere nearby. With my eyes still closed, I tried to find the damn thing.

“Hello?” I croaked into the phone.

“Liam, thank God!” Stanley said. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you all morning!”

“What time is it?” I rolled onto my back and immediately felt the nausea roll over me. Damn it, the upcoming day was going to be hell.

“Almost noon. Are you okay? You don’t sound good.”

“I don’t feel good either.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Have you been drinking?”

“Bingo!”

Another pause followed.

“What do you want, Stan? I feel like I’m about to puke, so either say it, or call me later.”

“Um… Okay, I’d better call you later then.”

“Good.” I hung up the phone and sat down; my head buzzed like crazy.

“Woke up finally,” Kimmy said, walking into the room. She was still wearing her pj’s and her hair was a slight mess. “Want some coffee?”

“Bloody Mary would be much better.” I stood up and cursed aloud. That last shot was too much… Oh, hell, those ten last shots were too much.

“Here,” Kimmy returned with a red drink in her hands. “I knew you would need it in the morning.”

I took the glass from her hands and drained it dry. “I also need an aspirin.”

“I don’t think a Bloody Mary goes well with aspirin.”

“Today the two things don’t have a choice but to become besties, otherwise I’m screwed.”

“I don’t think you can be more screwed than you already are.” Her words were filled with judgment, but I didn’t care. Lecturing me was not a very smart move; I had never been good at listening to lectures about morals. In most cases, I felt like I had none.

“Where are my car keys?” I asked, ignoring the look she gave.

“The same place where your car is, I suppose.”

“And where is that exactly?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“You are not helping, Kim.”

“I wish I could help you. But I don’t know how. You came back home, dead-drunk; you don’t explain anything, and you can hardly remember your name. So tell me, how am I supposed to help you?”

“Bring me clean clothes please. I’m going to shower.”

I knew I owed her an explanation, but I just didn’t feel like giving one, not now anyway.

Was I being a terrible fiancé who was also going to become a father soon? I guess I was. But, hell, I couldn’t help it. I just didn’t know how to build my life, knowing that I had ruined someone else’s.

I took a quick shower; I still felt like crap, but there was one thing that I needed to do today, and I was going to do it no matter the cost. I needed to talk to Liz. She should have known something, anything about the terrible night Stan told me about, and I needed to know it all.

Taking my phone, I called Liz, “Can you meet me for lunch at the café across from your studio?”

“Sure… Is everything all right?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Okay. See you.”

“You are having lunch with Elizabeth?” Kimmy stood in the doorway.

“Yes.”

“Liam, what’s going on?” She crossed her arms, watching me intently.

“I can’t tell you. It’s something personal.”

“Personal?” She smirked. “We are getting married, remember? There can’t be anything ‘personal’ in our family.”

“But we are not married yet, right?”

Her lips started to tremble. I cursed again.

“I’m sorry, Kim.” I walked over to her and kissed her gently. “It’s been a tough couple of days.”

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s bothering you. Is that too much to ask for?”

“I’m sorry, baby. I can’t. It’s not my story to tell.” I forced a smile and she seemed to relax a little.

“When are you going to be back?”

“In a few hours.”

“K.”

I gave her another short kiss and left, hoping that after I talk to Liz things would get better. No matter how little trust I had in that thought.