“I need to talk to my dad.” Aidan’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“You sure? You’re not going to hit him are you? Because I’d be more than happy to do that for you.”
“No, I’m not going to hit him. And if you don’t want to be handcuffed next door to me you probably shouldn’t either.” I tell him. He lets out a half-chuckle and moves toward the door. “Hey, Aidan, thanks for fighting for me.” He grins and waves me off.
“I’ve fought for worse causes.”
Faster than I thought possible my dad walks through the door. It’s eerie looking at him. I imagined he’d look different, more sinister, like an evil cartoon villain but he doesn’t. He looks like my dad, except his face shows his concern, his worry, and his apprehension. Even though he flew into this room, he looks hesitantly over at the chair, almost afraid to sit in it. That I might I change my mind about him being in here if he does. Maybe I will.
“You can go ahead.” I gesture toward the seat. He looks at me closely before sitting down.
“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me,” he says clearing his throat.
“I don’t know if I do,” I admit, and his face drops. “But I feel like I should.” I let out a long breath. We stare at each other, his face full of guilt, sadness, disappointment, regret and shame. I recognize it more easily now because I’m some version of the same.
“I know my words mean nothing right now, and that you have much bigger issues, but know that there’s not a day I don’t regret what my decision did to us. I miss you, and pray to God that things can be better. I want you to know your little sister, even if you never talk to me again. Your mom’s fallen in love with her and I hope you can too…”
My mouth falls open. “What?” I ask him confused. He hesitates a bit. “Mom has what? How… what are you even talking about?” My voice grows sharper as my sentence continues. He swallows hard.
“Lisa.” I cringe as soon as he speaks her name. “She dropped your sister off and left town. Willa's been living with us for the past two months,” he mumbles. I laugh, and cover my face. I can’t believe this.
“Look I can’t even begin to deal with that right now,” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t need your apology or explanations. I just need you to be my dad—to be the dad you were before all of this happened.”
His nod is slow as if he understands what I mean. He rests his hands on his lap and I tell him everything that’s happened—all that I can remember, my deal with Cal, and how terrified I am of Lauren leaving me. There’s silence between us when I finish, and he looks at his lap before our eyes meet.
“Do whatever is necessary to keep her son.”
“Hey Hun,” I look up to see Raven peering through the door. I’m not sure how long I’ve been awake. I’ve spent an entire day in this room. I haven’t moved from this spot since the night of the unraveling—which is what I’ve named it—an event that changed everything has to have a name. I somehow believed if I stayed in here and didn’t leave, if I didn’t speak a word of what happened—it just wouldn’t be real. I needed it to be a bad dream—something I could explain away because to admit to myself that my husband did what he did that night—makes it all so real and heartbreaking. Not only did he attack several people, and ruin my opening, he destroyed something precious to me.
The worst part of it all, is that he made me afraid of him. Regardless if it was Collin, Chris or Cal, I’m so horrified that I can’t move past it.
“I’ve got you coffee, toast, and two boiled eggs.” She’s treating me with kid gloves reminding me of how disastrous of a situation I’m in. For Raven to not act like her normal take charge, stern expression, I-told-you-so self lets me know this is beyond bad.
“Thank you,” my voice sounds like sandpaper. She sits on the edge of the bed and slides the tray across to me. I pick up the mug and realize my hands are shaking and I sit it back down, and squeeze my eyes shut from the tears threatening to make an appearance.
She doesn’t say anything but scoots the tray aside, slides next to me and offers me her open arms. I fall into them and bite my lip, but it’s quivering so much it doesn’t help and soon I’ve let go, sobs escaping my mouth faster than the tears falling from my eyes.
“Honey, it’s all going to be okay,” she says while stroking my back.
I can’t speak, not even if I tried, so I focus on breathing. My tears seem bottomless, not stopping as the minutes pass, and I feel sorry for Raven who’s here cleaning up the mess that I chose to be in. I can’t believe I’m back in this place—the same place I was in two years ago—except he hasn’t left this time and instead something in me is gone. My belief that he’s my protector—that regardless of the fighting, the blame, the constant personality changes—that he’d never hurt me, that I’d never be in danger is gone. It was always my defense when I’d get looks from the people who loved me who thought I was insane to put myself through this for love. It was my trump card that he loved me and regardless of what happened, he would never hurt me. It’s now all gone.
“Honey,” she says quietly. “I talked to his mom earlier today.” My entire body freezes. “She said he had some form of medication in his system. That it caused him to act out like that,” she explains. I’m embarrassed to tell her I already know about the medication after my conversation with Dexter. I should have been more prepared but I wasn’t. I didn’t think his behavior would be that altered, that he would be so manic and wild.
“Who did he wake up as?” I laugh bitterly, moving myself from her arms.
“Christopher.”
“And let me guess… he had no idea what happened?” I grab a Kleenex off of my nightstand and dry my face. She gives me a sad smile and it’s all the answer that I need.
“Is Caylen okay?” I force a sip of coffee down my throat.
“She’s wonderful. I’ve bathed her, given her breakfast, and Angela’s taken her to the park. Hillary is handling things at the gallery for you today. She took care of the clean up and dealing with the press.” My heart flinches. Oh my God, the gallery! I look at the clock, and it’s one o’clock. Right, I have a business, probably a failing one after last night’s disaster. “She asked me to have you call her when you were up.” I know that I should be grateful that she’s stepped up so much, but I can’t help a small part of me from being angry with her for not listening to me—for taking it upon herself to show my piece. But I can’t totally blame her because yesterday was eventually going to happen if that piece was up or not.
“Uhm…are you going to the hospital to see him?”
“No, I’m not,” I say quietly, and as calmly as my still weak voice will allow. Her eyes widen in surprise. And truthfully, I am surprised too even though I said the words out loud. “I’m going to spend today with Caylen and tonight start work on whatever Hillary wasn’t able to pull together. I’m going to shower now because I really need it.” I go into the bathroom, my mind teetering between anger, pain, hurt and confusion. It’s a broken down seesaw, just one out of order attraction in the broken down theme park that seems to be my life.