His words send a jolt of annoyance through me.
“Mom? What’s she got to do with any of this? I haven’t heard from her since James died.”
“She was his victim, too.”
“She lives on his money. She left her children so she could,” I protest.
I think about the blood on my sheets, the baby I never got to hold, but love anyway. My heart squeezes so tightly it brings tears to my eyes.
“I could never leave my child,” I say adamantly.
He strokes my cheek. “She’s not as strong as you are. Forgive her for that. Maybe, reach out to her.”
“She’s a stranger to me. I’m sorry, but that’s the last thing I want,” I say, and ignore the way my stomach rolls and coils.
“When you’re ready. Do whatever your heart tells you, honey.” He runs a hand over my head.
“Go, Clover. The world is waiting. Throw a dart at the map and go where it lands.” He smiles and then turns me to face the sliding glass doors of the airport and gives me a gentle nudge.
I walk to the ticket counter and redeem the ticket Carter bought me. When the agent hands me my boarding pass for the next flight to LaGuardia Airport in New York, I don’t try to stop the tears that stream down my face. I can’t believe I made it this far.
I realize now that I wasn’t sure that I would.
I’ve had this resolve before. When Carter and I had set our sights on forever.
The future was free and clear.
I could taste it.
When everything fell apart, it wasn’t just his love that I lost, but the castles I built to the future based on it.
Without it, everything crumbled to the ground and taking me with it,
I hurtled to the ground at breakneck speed and the crash landing shattered me.
But it didn’t kill me.
Even though there were days I wished it would.
And now…I know better.
There is no free.
There is no clear. Not when your father is a narcissistic misogynist with more power than integrity.
Not when the thing that wants to hold you back is stronger than your will to fight your way free.
My new start means leaving everything behind. The only thing I would take from this life are the things that are intractable. My love for Phil, Cameron, Dina, the name and new birthday that were bestowed on me with purpose and love.
I’m saying yes to things I have long denied myself. My steps are light, there’s a wind at my back.
I realize now, that it’s always been there and that my fear was the resistance that made doing this feel impossible.
I sit at my gate, alone and unmasked. No wig, no make-up, no pink. Just me, in my flip flops, jeans, and a plain white t-shirt. The only jewelry I’m wearing are the pieces that James bought for me.
I’ve never truly been by myself. Never had only me to rely on.
I’ve lived my life by the coda of low expectations.
I’m not demanding.
Pleasing people is a defensive stance for me.
Who could I be if I really let myself fly free?
I can’t wait to find out.
They call my flight and I dump my phone, the one that my Wolfe Industries pays for, into a trashcan. Then, I skip down the jetway and step onto a plane for the very first time in my life.
I don’t look back once.
Freedom
CARTER
THREE MONTHS LATER
“Hey, C, you’ve got a visitor,” Dane sticks his head into the Live Room. I’ve been holed up writing since last night.
I glance at my watch, see the 6am time and frown.
Our first single debuts on national radio today and we’re supposed to meet here this afternoon to listen. It’s the first time we’ve seen each other since we wrapped up all the pre-recorded promotional material last week.
It was supposed to be down time before we head off on our three month long promotional tour.
I’ve been in the studio by myself all week, focusing on writing new music. It’s the only thing keeping me sane and sober. I’m not expecting anyone, my bandmates included, for at least another hour.
“Why are you here so early? And what visitor?”
“This visitor, you fucking asshole,” Jack’s voice reaches me before he appears in the doorway.
“Jack?” I ask, confused and alarmed to see him. I stand up in surprise.
He strides into the room and slams the door in Dane’s face without a word.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, alarmed by the barely restrained anger pouring off him.
Instead of answering me, he drops wearily onto the couch in the corner and sweeps his gaze around the room. His expression is distinctly unimpressed as it lands on me.
“Is everything okay at home?” I prod when he doesn’t answer.
He inspects his fingernails with exaggerated nonchalance. “I’m surprised you remember you have a home. Seeing how you forgot that you have a family. I thought maybe, you’d forgotten everything.”
“What are you talking about? I talk to at least one of you every single day.” I ask, annoyed now, too.
“Oh, I know. And you’ve told us all about LA, and your music, and your little band, and all that shit. You forgot to tell us that you went to Texas to find your biological brother. The one that your biological mother, who you also found, gave birth to tens years after she gave birth to you.”
My heart drops like a stone in water to my toes.
“Jack, I can explain.” Are the only words I can muster.
In the span of the second it takes him to surge to his feet, he is transformed. His nostrils flare, his lip curls and he’s vibrating with unadulterated, unbridled, anger.
I tense, instinctively braced for him to launch himself at me.
He stops an inch away from us being toe to toe and roams my face, inspecting it like he’s looking for something.
When our eyes meet, I flinch at the disappointment in his. He snorts in disgust and looks down, as if the sight of me hurts him.
I’m gripped by a keen sense of helplessness. I don’t know what to say. How do I explain that the chapter of my life he’s asking me to probe is one I’m too afraid to revisit?
“I drove all the way here.” The change in subject is so abrupt that I wonder, for a second, if I missed something or misheard him.
“From the airport?” I ask, cautiously because he’s still staring at the ground and his voice is thick with anger.
“I didn’t fly, Carter.” His words are as gritty and rough as gravel, but I forget his anger and gawk at him.
He rotates his head, as if just talking about the drive is making his neck stiff.
“Wait. You drove from New York?” I gape.
“No, from Austin,” he says around a large yawn.
“What were you doing in Austin?” I ask, but guess before I even finish the question.
I should have known that I couldn’t bury my head in the sand and ignore Phil forever.
Pure disdain is etched onto every angle of his face. That fierce, dark look he’s got locked on me was one of the secrets to his success on the soccer pitch. And now, I understand why. I’ve never backed down from a fight with him, but right now I’m thinking about making a run for it.