It also included living with a heart that had a hole the size of a fist in it.
I filled it up with booze, sex, and a social life fit for Victorian courts. But it was never full.
Not really.
“Doesn’t matter,” she whispers, her voice haunted, a bit hoarse.
“It matters to me. I didn’t fuck her the night you were hurt, Nicole.”
“I believed it.” She laughs, then breaks down in tears. “That night, all I could think about was you with her. Guess I should thank you for the distraction. God, I was so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid.”
She folds more into herself, using her hold on her knees as armor against the world.
The people.
The injustice.
I’m too close to driving my fist into the steering wheel and inevitably getting us both killed.
If I’d listened to her back then, if I hadn’t been so shoved up my own arse and so attuned to my naïve heartbreak, I would’ve seen it.
I would’ve seen her brokenness and silent plea for help.
But I didn’t.
And I spent the following weeks actively pretending she was a pest.
She didn’t look at me either. Not even her usual glares or haughty remarks.
The day Victoria Clifford’s mask fell off and the police arrested her, Nicole broke down and maybe that wasn’t only for finding out her only parent is a monster. Maybe she let the world see her rare tears because of the pain that was festering inside her for weeks.
After the police escorted her mother out of the room, I wrapped my arm around Nicole’s shoulder and led her to the hallway. Even though the wound I thought she caused was fresh, bleeding, and refused to get better, I still felt a twinge in my gut at witnessing her state.
I still wanted to get her away from a furious Uncle Henry and a heartbroken Astrid. Despite my loyalty to my best friend, a part of me wanted to protect Nicole from her wrath if she or her father decided to blame Nicole for her mother’s actions.
And for a few minutes, Nicole allowed me to hold her, to silently console her while she sniffled and trembled like a leaf in a violent storm.
But then I broke the spell and asked like a first-class idiot, “Do you need anything?”
What could a girl who just realized her mother was a murderer need, Dan? Maybe you’re the one who needs a more functioning brain.
Obviously, I was on a kick of being daft back then because when her lips trembled, I lowered my head and brushed my lips against hers.
In my simpleton mind, I only wanted her to get better, to forget even for some time, but I ended up ripping my heart’s stitches open and kissing her with the desperation of a madman. I swear she kissed me back for a brief moment. For a second in time, we were so in tune that I had no clue where she ended and I began.
But then, she swiftly pulled from my hold, and stared ahead. “I need you away from me, Daniel.”
And then, she marched out.
A few days later, she packed her suitcases and left.
She hadn’t even looked at me. Not once. And I’d thought she was done with me.
I’d thought I was done with her, too.
All these years later and I’m learning the hard fucking way that I was never done with her.
Not when I never really got started with her.
“How did that fucker…” I trail off at my strained tone and start again with a cooler one. “How did he become Jayden’s father?”
A chin tremble. A jerk. Silence.
“Is he…actually your son?”
“No! Do you think I would’ve let that monster have more hold on me?”
“I’m just asking.”
“Well, don’t.”
“I’m on your side here.”
She huffs. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“I really am, Nicole. Tell me…” I purse my lips and add, “Please.”
More silence. More huffing. I swear the interior of my car is a thousand degrees and it’s a miracle I don’t drive straight into a wall at this point.
Nicole opens her mouth a few times, then stares out the window as she speaks in a soft, choked tone. “After Mum was arrested, I couldn’t bring myself to go see her. I felt so sorry toward Uncle Henry and even Astrid. I was planning to study in Cambridge and then, maybe a few years later, I would ask for his forgiveness. He was like a father to me after I lost mine, and I loved him, in my own way, even if he was blinded to anyone but Astrid and her mother. I just wanted to start anew, build my life from scratch.
“I was doing well, pretending my classmates didn’t murmur behind my back that I was a murderer’s daughter, that the aristocrats were rotten to the bone. It was fine. I was fine. I didn’t care about friends or parties or being a normal university student. I was just building my life. In the process, I ignored Mum’s mail. Until two years later when I got a visit from a police officer who informed me she’d died due to cancer. She’d been writing to me about that. Her cancer and her battle with it.
“I cried at her funeral, which I attended on my own. I cried for how she’d shaped my life and I cried because she was no longer in it. Then, in the middle of all that, I saw Christopher holding a baby. Apparently, he’d married my mum soon after Uncle Henry divorced her and was seducing her long before she was arrested. He said, ‘I only fucked you because you look like her. Now that she’s gone, you’ll do.’ I bolted out of there and fell down the stairs and broke my arm. I had an epic panic attack and nearly got myself hit by a car. I didn’t think seeing him again would spur such a reaction, but it did, and I hate that version of myself, the scared, faulty version. So I wanted to disappear, but he found me, he hit me.”
My fist clenches. “Did he…”
“He wanted to, but I blinded him with pepper spray and kicked him. It felt so good…so liberating. He left me alone for a while. A month later, social services asked me if I could take custody of Jayden. He was abused, had blue marks on his back, and he developed asthma from the conditions Christopher was keeping him in. I couldn’t say no, I just…couldn’t. He found me soon after, beat me to a pulp, and if it hadn’t been for a neighbor, he would’ve killed me and Jay. Uncle Henry found me around that time, but I couldn’t face him.”
That must’ve been what Astrid told me about.
“I had to leave the country and escape him. I dropped out of university and used the rest of my trust fund to raise Jay. It was tough at the beginning, and we moved a lot trying to find a good paying job. That’s how we ended up here.”
In New York.
Where I am.
My heart is thumping so loudly that I think she can hear every beat.
“Jayden said Chris visited you while you’ve been here.”
She slides her attention to me. “Did you ask him that?”
“Answer the question, Nicole. What happened?”
“He wanted us back. I kicked him out and moved the next day. That was two years ago.” She sniffles. “I never thought he’d sue for Jay’s custody. He never wanted him.”
But he wants you.
I don’t say that, because I doubt it will have a positive effect. I’m sure his whole mother-and-daughter fucked-up fetish is only that, a fetish. The one he actually wanted was Nicole, not her mother. She’s the one he used force to have, and she’s the one he’s been trying to keep a link to whether through her mother or her brother.