I am not a good person. I have never pretended to be one. But I am definitely not a liar. It is beneath me.
For the same unknown reason I confessed the truth about Brianna, I reply, “That’s what I wanted people to believe.” He swipes his hands across his face and groans. “Vincent, we can end this today. We can end this beef right now. Delete that video and we both move on with our lives. Forget this ever happened.”
Gone is the broken man from a few minutes ago when he barks out a laugh. He shakes his head slowly.
“Bastard. I’ll ruin you, Brandon Stark.” Vincent’s words are as icy as his eyes. I sigh. His sister is gone, his anger won’t bring her to life. “I’ll cause your wife and kids so much pain they will wish they were dead.”
My back stiffens but I maintain my composure. I don’t know how but I meet his gaze head on. If he had looked down, he might have seen me grip the chair so hard my knuckles turned white. But Vincent is so wrapped in his hate, he can’t see beyond him. El is safe. So are the twins. Brianna. He can’t get to them.
“So what if you release the video?” I loosen my tie. “It will blow over in a few days. Aren’t you tired?”
Vincent stops pacing. “Get out.” He points to the door. “Get out of my office.”
Something inside me snaps. A flood of emotion washes over me. I am not sure what I feel anymore. I feel everything at once. The anger. The pain. The love. But I choose to focus on the angst and the agony.
My voice is clear. I release my grip on the chair as my eyes rake his body. “Are you done?”
“Am I done?” He smiles so sadly I want to feed him his tie for the pangs of guilt that hit me. His sister is dead. My brother is dead. Brianna was bedridden for years. I am the one hurting. “Have you no soul?”
“I don’t. Mine is with the devil,” I say and force a smile to my lips. His shock is so amusing my grin turns genuine. “Nicole was a grown adult old enough to make decisions for herself. So what if she loved me? I didn’t love her back and I made that fucking clear too many times to count. What should I have done?”
If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s delivering the truth. Raw, brutal, blunt and honest goddamn truth. And she got it from me. From the beginning, I stated it. I was a man out to explore his new world. No love. No commitments. Submit your body to me so we can have extreme sex. No strings attached to it.
Throwing his hands up, Vincent whispers, “Pretended to care?” He sniffs. “She loved you.”
The fight is gone from him. It’s gone from me too but I do a better job of pretending to be unaffected.
“You are an idiot,” I tell him.
“You are a bigger idiot.” My lips curl in a half-smile. I want to laugh but I sigh instead. His head remains bowed. “She’s dead because of you,” he says it with no anger unlike the first time but it still triggers me.
The love was one-sided but I am tired of explaining that to him. He only hears what he wants to hear.
“She’s dead because of her choices. I didn’t force the drugs into her mouth, she made the choice herself. And I understand you are mad at everyone but this has nothing to do with me.” I pause to catch my breath. I hate talking sometimes. “Deal with your grief and leave my family out of this. End this now.”
“She’s dead because of you,” he reiterates like a broken player as he slides down the wall. Did he not hear a word I said? My patience has run thin. This visit is useless. I close my eyes briefly and prepare to launch into another speech but he shakes his head. “Yes, she died of an overdose but it was deliberate.”
* * *
Some things are better left unsaid. The true nature of Nicole’s death is one of such secrets that should be taken to the grave. I don’t think Vincent meant to mention it. It was easier to have me believe she died due to her carelessness. I didn’t mean to tell him about Sofie either, now he won’t stop calling.
I place my phone face down on my chest and recline on the long couch, using my hand to shield my eyes from the flashes of lights coming in through the window. The best option is to walk up to the curtains and close it but that means getting up from this spot. I don’t want to walk. I don’t want to do anything.
The phone pings again. I groan and finally pick it up. It’s Vincent. I didn’t give him my number and I don’t care to know how he got it. We have been at this for a while. The guards at the office are under strict instructions to keep him out. I have a lot of questions, he has answers but I am scared to hear them.
Vincent: Her grave is empty.
I send him a thumbs up emoji and my phone vibrates almost immediately with another text.
Vincent: Can I see her?
Vincent: I deleted the video.
Vincent: I know you are seeing my messages.
Vincent: What does she look like?
Vincent: Okay. Forget seeing her. What about a picture?
Vincent: Does she look like her?
His messages don’t stop. I reread them until the words blur. Brianna has her mother’s eyes. In the near future, they might exude the same innocence as Nicole. For now, they are brown and dull and curious.
Vincent: She had a diary. Everything that happened is in there. It’s how I know about the abortion.
And her death. And possibly Brianna’s true father. Did she also write about that ugly night? If she did, Vincent should understand why I ended our friendship. I slip out of the parlour to Brianna’s room. The girls are still gone but I should have them in two days. El hasn’t tried to call me. She finally took the hint.
The room is dark and quiet with the curtains drawn to prevent light from seeping in. Brianna is asleep. I slide in beside her to share her pillow while stroking her chin. She’s warm. I bring her hand to palm my cheek.
“Your uncle is disturbing me,” I whisper to her stiff frame. On cue, my phone vibrates again and I push it to the nightstand. “He wants to meet you.” She moans in her sleep and I lean forward to peck her. Sandwiching her hand between mine, I press a kiss to her knuckles. “Do you want to see him? I don’t like him. He is an idiot.”
With Brianna, talking is easy. I don’t expect a reply or judgment or advice but I get a load off my chest. The vibration resumes. I grab my phone as soon as the call ends. Another text comes in from the pest.
Vincent: I can give it to you if you like. Just let me see her. Just once.
Vincent: Please.
The issue is, once won’t be enough. If you live more than a decade believing someone is dead, once is not enough. The first time all you will be able to do is stare. The second time, the shock will be less but you only begin to grasp it after a third and fourth and fifth and many more visits. Once is never enough.
Me: She has her eyes. But she’s prettier.
Me: Don’t contact me again.
Ready to switch off my phone, I pause at the name that appears on my screen. She hasn’t called me once since that day. To be honest, I am not up for a conversation with her. I need a break from her.
“Did you ask people to follow us?” El murmurs once the phone connects with my ear. I push to the edge of the bed and take a seat while massaging the kink in my neck. I forgot about those two. They have been on guard duties since she picked the girls. “Two men, Brandon. Two men.”
Her chilly tone is unfamiliar but I can’t complain. I am partly the reason for it. My head hangs between my shoulders as my hand moves up and down the back of my neck. El calls my name twice. I exhale and make random shapes on the wooden floor with my socked feet. She says something.
“Yes. Yeah, I did. I was–”
“Get them away from me and my girls,” she says with a strong note of finality. I shudder at her tone.
So cold. The guards were there because I was trying to protect her. I am always trying to protect her but all I get in return is hate and ingratitude.
After texting the guards, I drop the phone on the nightstand. If she caught them so fast, they must have been doing an awful job. Besides, I don’t have to worry about Vincent anymore. Things are falling into place. I know he will call back later for more information, to see Brianna. But this time, I have the upper hand. I will make him suffer like I have.
I climb back in bed with Brianna, drifting slowly to sleep that’s interrupted by the sound of something vibrating beside me. My eyelids flutter open. I wait.
My eyelids are heavy, I blink at the ceiling until the vibration registers. My phone. On a sigh, I snatch it with the intention of blasting Vincent. I swear if he’s the one calling, I’ll lose it. My eyes narrow at the time on the top right of my screen. I was asleep for four hours. My gaze darts to the bed and I release a sigh. I don’t know what I was expecting but Brianna is still asleep. She sleeps a lot.
Thankfully, the caller is not Vincent. I rub the back of my hand against my eyes and swipe right.
My voice is groggy. I clear my throat. “Hello.” I peck Brianna and shuffle out of the room to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. Wedging my phone between my ear and shoulder, I open the fridge. “Hello?”
Her breath comes in shallow pants like someone in a marathon. I take a swig from my bottle and flash a grin at my haggard reflection on the window. My hair is shooting out in all directions. I haven’t had my bath today. I pull the phone away from my ear and press it back. I don’t have time for these stunts. El mumbles something I can’t decipher, I empty the content of the bottle in my mouth and growl.
“What is it?” My words are slurred. I put the phone on speaker mode, a few metres away from the sink and splash water on my face to reduce the puffiness. El is still struggling to speak. “El? Elna?”
She sniffs. I straighten up. She’s crying. I put the phone off speaker mode. My wife is crying.
El is crying.
Why is El crying?