It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with my biological father. I do. I felt a connection to him the day we met, but Ivan is a reminder of Preston, because he knew him first. Ivan’s the reason we fell in love in the first place.
My eyes burn, but before I can start crying, Jen leans forward like she’s about to tell me something important. “This knowledge is limited to the people inside of this room and the witnesses. That’s it. We’re talking top secret. It’s very important for you to keep the lid on this. No one—and I mean no one—can know about your location.”
“What about Mason?” My eyes land on Bridgette.
“I’ll tell him Dr. Fairmont suggested you go to a wellness center in California.”
My lips quirk up on one side because Bridgette and Mason seem to have the perfect marriage—one where they don’t have secrets. “You’re going to lie to him?”
“It’s not entirely dishonest, sweetheart. You need sunshine and time to be yourself without anyone watching.”
“If you’re worried about our sessions,” Dr. Fairmont inserts, “don’t be. We can continue your therapy over the phone.”
Seems like they’ve thought of everything. Other than the fact that I’ll be going to the place Preston and I should’ve been together all along, I have no reason to say no.
Maybe it’ll be good for me. Like Bridgette said, a place where I can figure out who I am in privacy.
“So.” I take a breath. “When do I leave?”
The limo Ivan sent to pick me up from the airport stops in front of a big white stucco house, and I stare at the two-story mini palace.
I’m lucky to be here—I know that. Lucky to be alive. Fortunate to have so much luxury available to me.
I just can’t help the painful way my heart twists when I think about how wonderful it would’ve been to have Preston here with me.
Concrete steps surrounded by tropical vegetation lead up to an ornate wooden door, but I’m not sure why there’s even an entrance when double doors on either side are propped open. White curtains billow in the breeze, and I can see past them to the back of the house. The sun is setting behind it, and the bright orange orb hovers above the water in the distance.
Ivan bounds down the steps wearing a casual attire of khaki pants and an untucked white button-up shirt. It’s the most dressed-down I’ve ever seen him. Also the happiest.
He grins broadly as the driver lets me out of the back seat.
Before I know it, I’m engulfed in a hug.
“My daughter.” Ivan laughs as he sways us back and forth. “How was your trip?”
“Not bad,” I reply truthfully.
Much to my surprise, Bridgette already had my bags packed at Dr. Fairmont’s office yesterday, so I literally walked out the back door of the building, got into an SUV with Jen, and left for the airport.
I barely had time to think about what it would be like on the flight, but that’s the thing about losing someone you love more than anything in the world. It changes your fears. Alters them. Sometimes eliminates them all together.
Because you know what? If the plane had gone down and I died in a fiery crash in the water, well… big whoop.
If heaven exists, then I’d be with Preston.
And if it doesn’t… then at least I wouldn’t have to miss him anymore. I’d be sharing eternal nothingness with him, and that thought is extremely comforting to me.
But we didn’t crash. The flight went smoothly. I even slept for a good portion of it, and I took some time to finish my letter to Loralee. After several more drafts filled with scathing profanities, I went with a less angry approach. I stuck to the facts, listing all the ways her decisions affected my life. I wrote about the toll she took on my mental and physical health and how she stole my childhood. I told her she’s selfish, and I don’t forgive her. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
After I was done, I quietly read the letter out loud as if she were sitting in front of me. Then I tore it up and threw it away.
It’s over. My closure with her is as good as it’ll ever be.
“We’re finally together.” Ivan pulls back and takes me by the shoulders to look at me. He must see grief all over my face, because his smile fades. “This place has a way of making everything better. You’ll see.”
After unloading my luggage, the driver accepts a hefty tip from Ivan and takes off.
“You must be hungry,” Ivan says, picking up two of the suitcases and starting up the stairs.
Lifting my Hello Kitty backpack, I follow him. “Yeah, I could eat.”
“I can make macaroni and cheese.”
“Sure.”
“I mean that literally.” Chuckling, Ivan motions for me to go in first as he holds the door open. “That’s the only thing I know how to make.”
That pulls a smile from me. “Where’s Helga?”
“Leave of absence. The drawback to this witness deal is the secrecy. Normally I’d have a full-time staff to clean and cook, but we’ll make do, won’t we?”
I nod. “I’m a good cook. I can help.”
Knowing my way around the kitchen is a life skill Loralee provided me with. I didn’t realize it at the time, but all that baking, making meals from scratch, and scraping by with what food we had available… it comes in handy.
Ivan sets my stuff down on the tile flooring. “Make a list of ingredients you need, and we’ll get someone to go to the market tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Which way is my room?” I start to look around, but Ivan waves me off.
“You can put your belongings away later. The sunsets are amazing here. Why don’t you go check out the beach?”
Two months ago, such an innocent suggestion would’ve made me squirm and shudder. Now I just shrug. “Okay.”
“I’ll get some water boiling. We can eat out on the terrace when I’m finished, darling.”
Darling. In the beginning, I thought Ivan was presumptuous for calling me the term of endearment. Funnily enough, I don’t mind it now. It might be the only name I don’t loathe.
Maybe I should have my name legally changed to Darling. Weird? Definitely. Do I care? Definitely not.
While Ivan makes some racket with pots and pans, I drop my backpack and walk toward the back patio.
I cautiously step outside. The sun is halfway gone, sinking below the glittering water in the distance. Billions of bright orange sparkles light up the endless ripples.
Breathtaking.
The rhythm of the ocean isn’t like a river or a creek. It’s not a constant rush or even a trickle. It’s a soft roar. A soothing whisper, like someone trying to calm me when I’m hysterical.
Shhh. Shhh. Shhh.
The large stone patio butts up right against the beach. Big green leaves and tropical flowering plants frame the stone walls on either side, but the back view is completely open.
Slipping off my shoes and socks, I set them on one of the wooden chairs at the long outdoor dining table. I shed my zip-up sweatshirt and drape it over my shoes. Then I go over to the sand.
My toes sink in as soon as I step on it, and I smile at the way the grittiness tickles my feet. It’s still hot from a day of soaking up the sun.