“YOU JUST LET him go? Knowing she is going to be there, drooling all over his Armani-clad arse?” I am nestled between Sofia and Marco, comfy, clad in our onesies, sharing a huge bowl of popcorn as we settle in for an eighties fest of John Hughes movies. Marco is not in a onesie.
“Well, I could’ve gone fatal attraction crazy, and he looked sorry enough to make him squirm, but that’s not my thing and I scored major brownie points the other day being super mature.” I smile and try to seat curtsy as she looks on impressed. “He didn’t look happy that she dropped that bombshell and walked away. Also he didn’t look convinced when I said she couldn’t have known he had wanted to take me, and it can’t possibly have been intentional.” Sofia scoffs. “I have to let her mess up. I have no proof that she was who she was when she was young. It’s not like I kept a scrapbook of my slutty sister’s extracurricular activities. She didn’t get arrested after she turned eighteen, so all her prior nasty activities would’ve been expunged. It’s my word against hers and I’m the unstable one, prone to visiting the dark side. Oh, I love this bit, he’s so angry, so tortured.” Sofs looks at me, and we both say, “So hot,” and fall together, giggling. Judd Nelson in ‘The Breakfast Club’ has just thrown a mad temper and climbed the outside of the staircase in the library, where he sits all angst ridden, moody and hot.
Marco is quiet ,but then he asks, “Why are you even pretending to like her, Boo? Why are you pretending for him? He should just trust you. He should just believe you.” He puts his large comforting arm over my shoulder, and I adjust to fit in the crook.
“Yes, he should, but he hasn’t known me that long, and, like I said, I have no evidence that she isn’t who she pretends to be. Whereas me? I am definitely the uncaring sibling, who gave up looking for her sister and then was hostile and unforgiving. I can’t stand the thought that he might think this is about me because of her lies.” He squeezes me and plants a kiss on my head. Sofia has reached over for her laptop to check her emails, Paul was supposed to come over after work, but he hasn’t shown. It’s not unlike him to be asked to work through, but it is unlike him not to let her know, and I know she is worried. I grab her laptop when she sees she’s had no new emails. I decide to Google the Gala for red carpet pictures, hoping this will act as a distraction. I click on the images page and start to scroll the famous and not so famous faces, sparkling and glamorous. It seems this is a really big event held in The Dorchester Ball Room with many hundreds of guests raising millions for the charity. I stop on his image, Wow, I was right, he is smoking hot in a tux. I fan myself and sigh elaborately. This is enough to make Marco go in search of more liquor. “Oh my God, Sofs! I didn’t see him before he left, look, I mean look! No one looks like that! He looks like he has a full on body filter.” She leans closer to me.
“Oh yeah, he does scrub up well.” She nudges me, and I scroll further down. The next picture he is walking beside his mother, judging by the striking family resemblance; they share a similar eye shape and colour. Her hair is styled in a sharp elegant dark bob. She is tall and slim and looks stunning in a floor-length dark blue evening gown with a chiffon wrap. The next picture is not so palatable. Kit has her arm threaded through Daniel’s. There is no space between them, and she is wearing a demure smile as the caption declares Daniel Stone with partner, beautiful widow, Kassandra Shaw. Her bright red dress has a plunging neckline, and it clings so tightly, it leaves nothing to the imagination. But she does look good, and sadly they look good together. I close the laptop and pass it back to Sofia. Mission accomplished, I am very distracted. Marco returns with a fresh bottle of wine and some chocolate. I am going to have to go for a marathon run to work off the guilt of eating all this tonight. There is a knock at the door, and Sofia leaps, shouting that Paul must have lost his key, but instead of the normal noise associated with Sofia greeting Paul, there is silence. Then there are mumbled words, and then there is a heartrending cry.
Marco keeps squeezing my hand, trying to get some sort of response from me, but all I can do is look out across the waiting room in the intensive care unit at St. Mary’s hospital. I am devastated by the sadness in the room. Sofia’s mother is holding Sofia’s head in her lap, trying to soothe the sobs, which are tearing Sofia apart. Paul’s parents sit quietly, holding each other’s hands, his mother’s face stained with tears. Sofia’s dad has gone to fetch drinks that no one will drink, but he is unsuited to sitting around waiting; and that is all we can do, wait. Paul’s car ran through the central reservation, and it was only because the roads were unusually quiet that he has even made it to surgery.
The longest night of my life turned into the longest day. The surgery had gone well, but the next twenty-four hours are critical. Once he is stable, his family can see him. Sofia’s parents left to get a change of clothes for their daughter and bring her back some food they desperately hope she will eat. She looks so pale, and with her hair scraped back into a pony tail, she looks too young and fragile to handle this, but she is not alone. Marco has his arm around her shoulder, and she is holding my hand in hers when the surgeon enters the room. Sofia is unable to move, but raises her head to meet his eyes. Paul’s parents stand instantly and are shaking the surgeon’s hand. The information filters in and is processed slowly in my head. Paul is in recovery and has just woken . He looks a lot worse than he is, but it could’ve been a lot worse than it is. He has some internal bleeding that they managed to stop in surgery, three broken ribs, a broken collarbone, and lots of bruising to the face, but no head injury. He should make a full recovery. He will be all right. I don’t realize I’m crying when Sofia turns to me. She is still swallowing down her sobs, but I think from the relief that fills her eyes they are now sobs of joy.
Paul’s parents take Sofia with them to see him. They aren’t gone long, but their relief is abundantly evident, not just in their expressions, but in the way they walk and hold themselves. They enter the waiting room with smiles and purpose. Now they can set about getting him better and getting him home. There is a whole different energy in the room. Not for Sofia, she is still very much shaken as she walks over to me. The sadness in her eyes has been replaced with worry and fear. The police told her that Paul’s car had been shunted into the central reservation, they are looking at CCTV footage, but where the incident occurred was on a part of the street that is not fully covered by the cameras. I hold her hand and pull her into my arms. She is so very precious to me, I whisper in her ear.
“No more. I’m so sorry, Sofs.” I pull back with my hands on her soft pale cheeks, my determined eyes fixed on her sorrow-filled ones. “I am ending this, now.” She never said she thought the same as me, when the police said that it hadn’t quite been an accident, and that they were looking for someone. She didn’t need to, and she didn’t tell me not to end it, either. I just hope she can forgive me for not ending it sooner.
I leave Sofia with Paul’s parents, knowing her mum will be back soon, and Marco catches a cab with me back to the restaurant. I feel sick with guilt. This is my fault. My sick twisted ‘family’ has infected Sofia’s. I can’t tell Marco any of this, because I know he’d kill for his family, he’d kill for me, and I have brought enough of a shit storm on this family. I can stop this. I can give Kit what she wants, and I can even move away, if it will keep the people I love safe, keep my real family safe. I’ll do anything to protect them. Silent tears slip from the corners of my eyes and Marco pulls me tight to his side and kisses my hair.
“Hey, hey, he’s going to be all right.” He gives me a warm smile as we pull up to the rear of the restaurant, and I roughly wipe these weak tears.
“Yes.” I say determinedly. “Yes, he will.”
It’s early evening before I get around to switching on my phone, which instantly starts beeping angrily at me, with twenty plus missed calls from Daniel, a similar number of texts, and one text from Kit.
HOW WAS YOUR EVENING? WE HAD A FABULOUS TIME. SEE YOU SOON I THINK. XXK.
I don’t feel sick or angry anymore. I just want it to end and I want her out of my life. I scroll to open the messages from Daniel:
Sunday: 11.30
PICK UP YOUR PHONE!
11.45
ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE BETHANY!
11.50
I’M SO FUCKING MAD, YOU SAID I SHOULD GO, I DIDN’T WANT TO GO, I WOULDN’T HAVE GONE IF I KNEW YOU WOULD BE LIKE THIS – FOR FUCK SAKE ANSWER THE DAMN PHONE!
12.00
I’M COMING ROUND!
12.20
WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? WHY AREN’T YOU AT SOFIA’S?
Sofia’s parents were out last night but must have come straight to the hospital from their friends’ house, once they heard the news about Paul, or they would have seen Daniel fuming on their doorstep. His last text is just after that.
I’M IN THE MAIN WAITING ROOM BABY IF YOU NEED ME TO DO ANYTHING, ANYTHING, LET ME KNOW. I’M GOING CRAZY THAT THEY WON’T LET ME GET TO YOU.
I wonder if he was still there when I left with Marco. I sigh heavily. It doesn’t matter now, all that does is that ‘this’ ends; now. I dial his number.
“Bethany.” His deep rich voice is calm, revealing none of the anger or relief he must have felt last night, but it is also strangely cold, too.
“Daniel.” I don’t bother to explain where I was, he knows where I was, and I also sense that something is wrong. “I would like to see you tonight. We need to talk.” My hands are shaking slightly, and I can feel my throat tighten.
“I’ll send my car; be ready in fifteen minutes.” He hangs up. That was cold, brief and cold. I think that might make what I have to do easier, if he is angry and distant. Kit’s words haunt me, but I need them, too. That he ever loved me was nonsense. It will help if I know it’s only my heart that is going to be broken tonight. I swipe my fingerprint at the side door and wait for the green light and slight click of the lock releasing.
“Good Evening, Ms. Thorne.” The cheerful tone greets me.
“Good Evening, Eric. How are you?” Eric is the guard and doorman for the building and seems to always be on duty. He must be in his sixties, close to retiring, I would guess.
“Oh, I’m well. Catching up on my reading. It tends to be a bit quiet here.” He chuckles.
“I love reading, when I get the chance, although it’s mostly coursework at the moment. Anyway, Daniel is expecting me, so I’ll go on up.” I continue to the lifts.
“You know you don’t need my permission, you’ve got clearance, my dear.” He smiles kindly and gets back to his reading.
I turn toward the lift. “For now,” I sigh. I have a nervous, sickening feeling growing in my stomach. The lift doors open, and I notice his door is open, too. I step inside and hear her laughter; I am not surprised she is here. I guess she wants to make sure I go through with it, but I only have to close my eyes, and I see the pain in Sofia’s.
Her laughter stops as I enter the living room where she is sitting next to Daniel. She looks very comfortable, at home even. She leans forward and pours more wine into her glass, her facial expression changes to a more somber mask.
“Daniel.” My voice instantly catches. “Kassandra.” This is going to be so hard. I grip my nails into my palm and try to focus on that small pain instead of the much larger one growing inside. “Daniel, maybe we should talk privately?” My voice is soft and as steady as it can be.
“Oh, Really?” His face is impassive, but his tone is ice cold. “Is that what you want?” His manner is openly hostile, and I wonder what she could have possibly said to cause this reaction.
“Well…” I falter. “Yes… I think…” I hesitate when he stands and walks toward me. He takes my hand, his grip more rough than firm. I try and resist being maneuvered into the room, but he is far too strong. “Look, Daniel,” I will just say it and leave, rip the band aid and quickly, leave them to it and leave me to bleed. “I only came here because I didn’t want to break up with you with a text.” His head snaps to mine, his eyes narrow and dark.
“Break-up? Now why would you want to do that?” His cold voice has more of a sneer, and I feel I’m missing some vital bit of information. Kit’s amused expression vanishes when she sees Daniel look her way.
“I… well, I just can’t see you again. I don’t want to see you again,” I confirm. I don’t want to make up horrible excuses to hurt him, but then again he doesn’t look hurt, he just looks angry.
“Don’t you love me?” His tone is cruel, and a quiet sob escapes my throat. His narrow eyes don’t leave mine, as I prepare to say the words that will break my heart and delight my sister.
“No, Daniel, I don’t love you.” My hand reaches for my hair, but I rub my neck instead. The tension has set like a rock across my shoulders.
“You know, Bethany,” he pauses as he looks at my fingers pulling on my hair, “I believe you.” The quickness of his acceptance is like a sucker punch, and I fold a little at the invisible blow. “Shall I show you why I believe you?” Oh, my God, he hasn’t finished. He leads me numbly to the coffee table before Kit, where there is a pile of papers face down. He leans over and picks up the papers. He still has a vice-like grip on my arm, but he releases me and hands me the papers. I turn them over, and I am confused by the image on the first page. It is a large grey photograph of me. I am standing on the steps of Marco’s flat, and he is hugging me.
“Daniel, darling.” My sister interrupts. “You must know I did this for my protection, being in my position, and Bethany, well, being in hers, I had to know who she was before I could let her into my life. I had no idea what I would uncover.” She dabs her eyes and stifles a sob.
I am still confused as I look at the next picture. Marco and I going through his front door. The next sequence of photographs I can only slightly focus on, because my tears have built and are heavy in my eyes, causing a dream-like distortion. Marco and I are in his living room, and the next one shows a heated embrace, the next in a state of undress, the next in his bedroom, my naked back held in his arms, my legs wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping my bottom. The last one he has me pinned against the wall, and my head buried in his neck, and him buried deep in me. Only in the first picture you could see my face because only in the first picture it is me, but I know what this is supposed to be, and Kit did say she had something that would facilitate the break-up. I am desolate, and I look at Daniel’s eyes, and briefly I see that he is, too, but it is quickly replaced with steely anger.
“Did you ever love me, Bethany?” His voice holds nothing.
“Oh, God!” I double up as all the air escapes me, and I stumble, dropping the photos on the floor. “Do you believe…” I can’t finish my sentence, it hurts too much to think what he now believes to be true, that I’m a liar and a cheat.
“I believe what I see, Bethany.” His mask is a fixed, impenetrable stone.
Kit stands to offer her hand in comfort, and he takes it. I feel dizzy and flushed, and I will faint if I don’t leave right now. I turn to leave, but Daniel steps to block my way. He bends to pick up the photo, the one in the bedroom with my naked back.
“Please… do keep this one, Bethany, it’s my particular favourite.” I shiver at the hatred dripping from his words, but still my body feels conditioned to obey him, and I reach for the photo. I take it and walk away. As I reach his front door, I hear Kit’s closing statement. “I’m so sorry, Daniel, you don’t deserve this…I’ll stay as long as you need me to.” I run the last few steps to the lift and fall inside. I press the ground-floor button manically and try to stop myself from throwing up in the lift with deep breaths through my nose. I can’t see for the haze of tears falling. The pain in my chest is like a saw, slowly inching its way around the soft tissue of my heart, until it falls unaided from the bleeding open cavity that is my chest. The lift reaches the ground floor, and I am grateful there is no one waiting to get in, because I am not going to make it outside. I dash to Eric’s desk and swing my head around the corner to the waste bin, where I dry heave and deposit any remaining liquid from my stomach. I’m so embarrassed. I’m fucked-up, brokenhearted, and embarrassed.
“Oh, God, Eric, I’m so sorry.” My vomiting has momentarily stopped my crying. I am relieved that my body is clearly unable to control that many excretions at the same time. “Eric, let me clean that up. Where are the toilets? I’m so sorry and so embarrassed.”
“Ms. Thorne, it’s fine. Don’t worry. I’ll fix it. Now, are you all right? You do look upset.” His concern is only going to fuel the tears once more.
“I’m fine. I just witnessed something rather tragic, that’s all. I’ll be fine.”
“Oh, what was it? Was it on the discovery channel?”
“No.” I shake my head as I try and think of the words that would aptly describe the last twenty minutes of my life. “It was a train wreck.” I go to lift the bin and take it to the caretaker’s room, which must be here somewhere, when there is a buzz indicating the entrance phone of the penthouse.
“Eric, Escort Miss Thorne from the building immediately!” He disconnects. I can add humiliated onto that previous list. I just want to go home. I smile tightly, and Eric looks embarrassed now.
“I’ll go, Eric. I’m really sorry for everything.” I feel like that is the understatement of the year. Daniel’s driver is waiting, and he goes to open the door, but I shake my head.
“Really, Ms. Thorne, Mr. Stone was quite insistent I drive you.”
“Maybe on the way here, Peter, certainly not on the way back, but thank you. Take care of yourself and--” I swallow my tears “--take care of Mr. Stone.” I walk home in a numb trance, still gripping the photo, which damns me.
The restaurant is closed, but a few of the kitchen porters and Joe are still doing the final clean down. I don’t want to be on my own right now, so I go into the kitchen and pick up a cloth and start polishing the silverware. “Hey, girl, you don’t need to be doing that.” Joe’s heavy arm thumps down on my shoulders and gives me a little shake.
“Actually, Joe,” I can’t help the deep sigh that escapes my lips, “this is exactly what I need to be doing right now.” I continue to mindlessly rub the knives, removing any traces of water marks and making them shine.
“Let me make you something, you are looking really pale, girl.” He doesn’t hide his concern in his voice.
“I can’t tonight, Joe.” I’m struggling with the sadness that’s welling deep but rising fast and I plead, “Please.”
“All right girl, whatever you say.” He turns his back and carries on putting ingredients away. It’s after midnight, and I must still be running on adrenaline and pain to still be awake after the last twenty-four hours. I lock the door after Joe crushes me in a bear hug and says goodnight.
I enter my bedroom and see the stack of deliveries of expensive beautiful lingerie, which have continued to arrive daily. They make an impressive tower in the corner of my room. My mind flashes to eBay. I couldn’t wear anything he bought me without having him with me, inside me, and I need to stop thinking about him. I crawl into bed. It’s too late to call Sofia, but I want her to know she doesn’t have to worry anymore, and selfishly, I want her to forgive me. I send her a text that she will pick up first thing.
HEY YOU, ALL SORTED NO MORE WORRIES. I’M SO SORRY SOFS PLEASE FORGIVE ME. XB
My phone rings moments later.
“Hey sister.” I greet her with our usual greeting. I just hope we can be normal again. “I didn’t want to call you so late, but I wanted you to know you’re safe, and Paul’s safe.” I’m silent while this sinks in but I need her so much I have to ask, “Can you ever forgive me, Sofs? I’m so sorry…I…” I am sobbing quietly. I am desolate.
“Shhh, sweetheart, shhh, there’s nothing to forgive. I didn’t actually believe the crazy bitch, so I’m just as much to blame for not taking her threat seriously.” I can hear her own regret.
“But none of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me. I think maybe I should move away, just to make sure, you know.” This came to me tonight while I was polishing, that they would all be safer if I wasn’t around, if I moved to another city.
“Oh, there you go, flight instinct kicked in quick this time, No! I am not losing you. She’s got what she wants, that will be it. Won’t it?” I can hear the uncertainty in her voice, so I try to reassure her.
“Yes, that will be it. Really, she was very clear. She just wants Daniel, and now she’s created enough of a reason to disown me, she won’t rear her ugly head again. I know he was keen on a big family reunion, but I don’t think that’s the case, anymore.” My feeble laugh falls flat. “So other than my last lecture with him next week, I won’t be seeing either of them again.” I am saying this to reassure her, but I think it’s the truth.
“Back to normal, then, eh?” She sounds relieved.
“Yes, normal.” I’m not touching that one. I am a long way from normal.
“What happened? Why would she disown you now?”
“You know, it’s not important.” I try to sound disinterested.
“Bets, I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry you had to choose; it’s fucked up. This whole thing is fucked up.” She is sounding more like Sofia the angrier she gets.
“It was never a choice, Sofs. He’s been in my life five minutes; you guys… you are my life.” My chest hurts, and I press my fists hard against it to relieve the pain.
“But it only takes a minute though, doesn’t it?” Her voice is soft.
“Yes,” I sniff back a few stray tears that are tickling my nose, “it only takes a minute, but it doesn’t change a thing.”