Chapter Fifteen - Erica
It didn’t help, it didn’t help to be alone. But I told myself that it was better this way. I was living a lie. Of course, it had all been a lie anyway, our whole relationship had been fake, just for the sake of the cameras. But I was lying to him too.
I was back in my apartment, alone. I had spent the night crying, hoping that I might be able to be a good mother to my child. Hoping that I hadn’t ruined my life, or my child’s.
Yet, the next morning, the papers brought new gossip for its readership. This time I was sure that it would be irreparable. They had caught me. The cameras had followed us to his house. They had staked out the building and caught me on camera when I ran out of the building, a mess, and hailed a cab.
The new gossip was that Kyle Murphy had thrown me out of his house in the middle of the night. That our short-lived relationship had lasted for only a few weeks, that Kyle Murphy could never commit. A new wave of embarrassment washed over me. The photograph in the papers now was one of me, in a crumpled black dress, my hair a mess, my makeup running. I looked like I was in shambles – like I had been crying. It was easy to see why people might believe that he had thrown me out.
I clutched the edge of the kitchen counter in my apartment, and I tried to breathe in, to calm my nerves. I had to keep it together for the sake of my baby. I was angry with the world, and I was angry with Kyle. But I decided to take it out on someone else.
“Hi, dad,” I said when he answered the phone.
“Erica,” he replied as coldly as ever.
“I trust you’ve seen the latest again.”
“He threw you out,” he stated it like he had always seen it coming. “So your relationship is over, then?”
“Are you happy?” I asked him.
“No, I’m embarrassed,” he said.
“You shouldn’t be. Because I’ve achieved more in my life than you ever have, or your make belief son ever could.” I was screaming into the phone.
“A son would not have gotten himself into this kind of trouble,” my dad said quietly. I was surprised that he wasn’t yelling at me.
“You don’t know that because you don’t have a son. You have me. So you can’t assume what kind of trouble your son would or would not have gotten into,” I raged on. My dad remained silent for a while as I breathed heavily into the phone.
“Of course I can’t. You brought it up, I didn’t. I wasn’t comparing you to anybody,” he said. It was my turn to remain silent.
“Erica, I want to help you,” he said.
“Why? You’re embarrassed of me. You think I’m in trouble and you’ll never be able to show your face again,” I snapped.
“Yes, I am embarrassed, because it is such a public affair. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help you.” He was speaking quietly.
“I don’t understand. I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.” I was mumbling now, at a loss for words.
“I was angry when I found out. Of course I was. You’re my daughter. My only child.” I could hear the strain in his voice. He was upset, but not angry.
“I thought you didn’t want me around, dad,” I whispered.
“I know I pushed you, even as a child, I pushed you. But I’ve always been proud of you. I’ve treated you as both a son and a daughter. It may have been wrong, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t love you.” I could hear the shake in his voice again. I had never imagined my dad could ever break down.
“Have you ever been proud of me, dad?” I asked him.
“Of course I have. I always have. You didn’t need to publish an interview with Kyle Murphy to make me proud. You’ve achieved more than I ever have. More than I wanted you to.” My dad was crying on the phone now, and I bit down on my lip.
“Thanks, dad, that’s all I needed to hear,” I said, hoping that was enough, even though I knew it wasn’t. How could I ever make up for ten years of pushing him away? I realized then that I had never given him a chance. I had blamed him for everything.
“Erica, you come to me if you need something. I’m angry with the media and with that guy, Kyle Murphy. But I will always be here to support you if you need it,” he said.
I thanked him again and I hung up the phone.
Even though I felt like my life was a complete mess, my reputation was ruined, and I might never get a decent journalistic job ever again in my life, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
And I missed him. Kyle. I missed being in his house, looking up and finding him there. Now that he knew the truth, chances were that he wouldn’t want to see me again. Why would he? Ideally, he would like to have the situation taken care of, quietly, without any media trouble.
I had brought nothing but disruption to his life, and he was probably already glad to be rid of me. This was probably one gossip story that he liked – that he had thrown me out of the house. It went well with his image, of being the most desirable man in the country. Why would he want me in his house anyway?