by Amelia Wilde
My brain says yes, my heart yells to shut up and my mouth remains close. Why is it that I can’t breathe?
Anderson
She remains quiet, assimilating my words while fighting whatever is going inside her head. I remain as close as she allows, anticipating a backlash or a full-blown panic attack. Biting her lip and shaking her head, her eyes meet mine again.
“Maybe.” Her voice shakes, her eyes fill with moisture.
Fuck, she’s stubborn.
“Aspen, I can die at any time.”
She chokes, the pain flowing out of her pores. Shit, I forget she can’t fathom the thought of me dying.
Continue, you have to destroy these walls before you leave.
“Whenever I die, I’ll die a happy man. I experienced the perfect love.”
The darkness in her eyes lightens up. She’s so beautiful, and I’m so lucky to have her. I still can’t believe that this gorgeous woman who hid her heart for many years opened it for me.
She loves me.
She chose me.
She has to battle those demons for us.
I rub the back of my neck, finding the right words to convince her to at least think about us. “Look, not many experience the joy I have for these past weeks. You held my hand during the hardest moments of my life, and took the pain away from me.”
Taking her hand, I kiss it. “I’d rather live one day with you by my side than a hundred years wondering if I had a soulmate.”
“I’m a coward,” she mumbles.
“No, you’re hurt and the people you loved abandoned you when you needed them the most.” I don’t say her mother.
“Will you come back?” I nod.
“Of course, I have something in my apartment waiting for you,” I say, smiling at her. “Including candy.”
“The way Carter said it. I…” She throws her arms around me, holding me so tight. I return the embrace. “I love you, don’t doubt it. With all my heart, and I’m the lucky one because you brought me back from a dark place. You’re so patient and caring.”
“Anderson, I hate to say this, but we have to go, buddy.” Tiago’s timing sucks.
“You’ll be back,” she says with conviction, her eyes staring into mine. “This is something I have to work on, fix my life and face everything I’ve tried to avoid. I’ve already faced my biggest challenge.”
“What was it?”
“Falling for you.” She kisses me. I groan into her mouth, murmuring how much I love her. It will only be a few weeks without her.
35
Aspen
“Why are you in the garage?” Brynn calls from the door. “Are you okay?”
No. Hawk left only a few minutes ago, leaving me heartbroken and hopeful. It’s a very strange combo only he can accomplish. Now, I have to fix all my shit. I mean, I was half way through doing that, but this is a mission that I’ll see through before he’s back.
“Remember the box that says, Michael, Dad and other corps?” I read the labels of every box stored in our garage not paying much attention to her. We have cookie cutters?
“The morbid box?”
“Mhm.” That’s how we called it. I did see that one back in the corner. I move through the maze trying to retrace my steps. “We have to do something with all these boxes.”
“You think?” she says, leaning against the closed door staring at her nails. “I say all the boxes older than a year go to the trash.”
“We would finish right away, everything is…a-ha, I found you.” It’s much smaller than I remembered, and it’s been re-taped. My blood boils as I remember Scarlett coming to the garage the last time she was here. Fucking bitch.
There’s a note when I open it.
If you want to recover his stuff, you’re going to have to come to the ranch for them. I’m sick and tired of you ignoring me.
“Did you know about this?” I march to Brynn holding the box.
She takes it narrowing her gaze and laughing. “Typical Scarlett. Of course not, I would’ve whooped her ass.”
“You need anything?”
“I’ll come to get you soon, we might travel to see the blonde thief.”
“You’re not mad at her?” I shake my head. “Explain.”
If I didn’t notice, it means I really didn’t care. Michael means a lot to me. He was my first love, the guy I fell for when I was only a kid, who I had planned to live a happily ever after life. Our love wasn’t as strong, as powerful, or as intense as the one I share with Anderson. Was that something Mike and I would’ve developed over time? Maybe. Life turned out to be different and I will never know. The girl who loved Michael is in the past. I’m not her anymore. I have grown, but I hid my heart from the world for so many years.
I had to do it. Losing the man I loved was the most jarring pain I’ve ever experienced. It altered me forever. I became a coward who feared living.
“I held onto his memory to avoid feeling,” I blurt. The countless shots of tequila cleared my mind. The fucking asshole who hit me with the truth and made me see what I’ve been avoiding. His brother didn’t care about my façade or the barricades I built to avoid everyone around me—even my mother. “It doesn’t mean I don’t love Mike. The hole he left can’t be filled by anyone. It’s his. I just love him in a different way now. He’s a part of me, and what we had meant everything—back then.”
She smiles. “Finally, my little girl is growing up.”
“I am, when will you take that step?” I switch scenarios because I’m not the only one who’s been avoiding life.
“One crazy doctor at a time. It’s your turn.” She gives me a sad smile.
“I know.” I side hug her, then march to my room. “Wish me luck.”
“I’ll be in my room if you need me.”
I drag my tired ass into the bedroom. My heart beating erratically as I reach it. My body’s breaking into a sweat as I spot the yellow padded envelope under old pictures of Michael, Brynn’s exes, and Scarlett’s old skeletons. I can’t believe she was brave enough to go through it just to fetch Mike’s stuff.
I hold the heavy envelope, why is it that I have to read it? Should I? Does it matter what it says?
Dear Aspy:
The only guarantee you have from the moment you’re conceived is death. Death claims you without warning, at any given time. And when it arrives, it still takes you by surprise. I wasn’t ready for the words: you have cancer. I thought that with my position, my fortune, and my daughter this cancer would be gone. So, I planned for my future. A nice retirement place somewhere sunny to be with your mother for the next thirty years. I negotiated with God, promising I’d change after I was cured.
Somehow, I believe this cancer is a punishment. A silent killer sent to pay for all the lives I ruined through the past years. The priest who came to the hospital during one of my chemotherapies said God doesn’t work that way. He forgives. Cancer is an illness that kills without looking into your sins—it’s not Santa Claus. I believe his joke was meant to lighten the conversation. After I had recited all my sins, he smiled and asked, “do you repent?”
I still held hope and responded with an arrogant tone, “Only in a few of those cases.”
He looked at me in the eyes, pity written all over his face. “Your soul is lost, my son, no matter if you live or die. I hope you find some good inside yourself before it is too late.”
The only good I believe in is you, sweetheart. You’re the light that illuminates my days. I am hoping to heal—at least my relationship with you. I leave you this letter along with some of my secrets. Where do I start?
I love your mother. Neither one of us knew how to treat our relationship from the beginning. We had an on and off relationship for a long time. Once my high school sweetheart married, I tried hard not to fuck up. But during one of our off periods, your mother had a relationship with another man. To this day, we don’t know if Austin is mine—he looks nothing like me. I love the kid, but the uncertainty became a wall between
the two of us. For years, I waited for him to have something that would remind me of myself when I was younger. Sometimes I think your mother enjoys torturing me with the uncertainty of his paternity.
Please, tell Aussie I love him. No matter how stupid I was and how poorly I treated him. I loved him.
Your mother’s family didn’t like me. They swore I knocked her up and married her because of her money. That’s a dirty lie I worked hard to erase. I found easy ways to make money, sweetie, it was too easy not to cheat the system. People paid me to lose evidence, file the wrong paperwork or switched dates in official documents. It was simple. So effortless, my hunger for money was insatiable. I provided for my family, and showed those snobs that I had more than them. During this time, the best thing in my life arrived. My little girl. You were so tiny, precious. Let me tell you that the first time I held you I cried. It was pure and unconditional love, the one you hear about but never feel until you have your own child. I swore to care and love you over everything.
Your first word was Dada. You decided to be a doctor at an early age because making others feel better was nice. From a very young age, you’ve been shy but fierce, cautious yet an adventurer. You were a weary little kid who trusted everyone. You aren’t perfect, and you wear your flaws as badges of honor. I’ve always been so proud of who you are and I had so many plans for you…at one point I believed I owned my children. Little did I know they would grow up and become so independent.
Life from my perspective was almost perfect. My marriage wasn’t the best, but we managed until she came back. My beloved Helena had lost her husband and decided to move home with her parents so they could help with her two sons. They lived a couple of houses from me, and I couldn’t help myself. I visited her often, tried to become the husband she had lost. It was when I asked her to make things more official when everything changed. She demanded I divorced before her sons learned about me. We planned our life together. I requested my transfer to Boston. Austin and you would join us. You loved your brother too much to separate you from him.
Addy threatened to take you with her if we divorced and ruin my career. She claimed to have evidence of my dirty business. I stopped the legal procedure. Helena broke off the affair—she refused to be the other woman. I chose my children over her. I couldn’t lose you, not my kids. If I wanted to divorce and to take you with me, I had to work harder, make more money. The hunger increased along with the resentment of what had transpired. I hated both women. The transfer came through, and we had to move to Boston.
The first year was the hardest. You couldn’t cope with the new changes—the loss of your friends, your old school, your grandparents, and the dollhouse I built for you. Your mother had no idea how to handle you. Instead of searching for someone to help us with the loss you carried, I became the mediator. That was another big mistake on our part. Please, try to look after your mother, she loves you. Her voice is bigger than life, just like her heart. Never doubt her love for you.
Today, as I’m close to meeting my maker, I recount everything I did. I’m ashamed of my behavior toward the two women I loved. Everyone who came in contact with me suffered.
I deserve no absolution. I beg for your forgiveness.
Here I am, sentenced to die in only a few weeks. If I’m lucky, I have some extra months to live. Ah, the sweet irony of being incarcerated within my own body feeling nothing but pain and alone. Your mother had told me that she wants me to die outside her home. She is done with me. I don’t blame her. Everyone hates me, except you; only because you don’t know the truth. In this envelope is the list of every bribe I received. Also, information on an account only you can access. It has most of the money from the bribes I collected—with interest. It’s yours. If there’s one person I trust to do the right thing with it, it is you.
Why you?
You’re only good thing I have to hold onto in this life. You’re the light that will guide me to my last minutes. I know in my heart that it’s you who will write some rights out of all the wrongs I made. My little healer who can set a smile on anyone’s face. Even when you hide your emotions, you’re giving, caring and kind. A born leader who fights her demons and continues standing up even when life knocks her down. A successful doctor and a wonderful person who pursues her dreams.
My words might be meaningless but know that I’m proud of you. Create something special for yourself. It’s time for you to stop working twenty-four hours a day. Money is necessary, but it isn’t everything. Love yourself, trust yourself, and be yourself. Be bold, be brave, be fearless. The world is a beautiful place. Look around, enjoy it.
Yes, enjoy it. The death of your fiancé was a tragedy. You shut yourself out from the world and buried yourself in work. I beg you to come out. It’s time to find the life you’re supposed to live.
Live.
Never be static, but move wisely.
Follow your dreams, believe in them.
Never stop dreaming.
If I had one wish: I’d go back to the day your mother told me about Austin and celebrate with her instead of offering marriage with a cold voice. I would make sure to tell him how much I loved him every day. Even if he isn’t my biological kid, he’s mine. I wouldn’t have cheated on your mother so many times. I’d repent for every bad thing I did while I was thirsty with power. May God forgive my soul and may you find a way to absolve your old man.
Love you always and forever,
Dad
He was a horrible person. Mom suffered but it sounds like she isn’t the victim she presumes to be. They both failed each other. Mostly, they failed their children.
36
Aspen
“I’m in love,” Austin answers his phone.
“With who?” My brother is in love with the entire male population of the world.
“Asher Neville,” he retorts, the voice in a dreamy state. He’s a goner.
“Wait, the guy at Sophia’s celebration? You said you wouldn’t fuck him.”
He laughs. “I didn’t sleep with him. He made me feel special, asked about my life, my job,” he pauses inhaling deeply. No, sighing like a puppy in love. “He drove me home. Once we arrived at my place, he walked me to my door.”
“A gentleman, I like it.”
“Asher is a noble English gentleman.” His voice is jittery and filled with excitement. “As I opened the door and thanked him for driving me, he kissed my cheek and said, ‘I had a great time, Aussie. Talk to you soon’.”
“Hey, why is he using my nickname?” I protest.
“Ash thought it was adorable that you still called me that.”
“You have to keep me updated about this new beau of yours.”
“I will, why don’t you tell me what’s with you. That voice is giving you away.”
“Dad’s letter.” My voice shakes.
“You finally opened it?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you read it to me?”
“I don’t think I should…”
“Please?”
I read it to him from beginning to end.
He chuckles. “Mom said once that she was happy I looked like her brothers. I guess she liked to torture him.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I let go of Jonathan years ago, Aspen. I thought he hated me for being gay. It feels better knowing it was his insecurities and my mother’s mind games.” He pauses, I don’t understand why it’s better for him. “I’ve had years of therapy to get over my daddy issues, sweetheart. Don’t worry about me. You are the one who concerns me. What’s going on with Anderson? You left him hanging yesterday.”
Promptly, I explain everything up until the letter I read only a few minutes ago. This conversation doesn’t go without the ugly tears.
“From a counselor standpoint, it sounds like Jonathan made too many bad decisions to show the world his worth. Their marriage was a clusterfuck. Mom shouldn’t have played with my paternity.”
“What do I do?” The bank paper
s have a radioactive glow to them. It is suffocating to have so much money tainted with my father’s hands in my hands.
“With what exactly?”
“The letter and his money.”
“I’d enjoy making a hefty donation made in his bigot honor to any or many LGBTQIA non-profits.” He laughs. “Aspen, you’re a millionaire. Blow it, save it…don’t think where it came from. Think what you can do with it. Solve world hunger. Donate to low-income families so they can afford health insurance…forget about the guilt. That’s Jonathan’s, not yours.”
“Sounds effortless.”
“What are you going to do with Mom?”
“Meaning?” I avoid talking about her because I don’t have an answer. “Wait, how did Asher ask for your number?”
“Smooth.”
“Can you explain better, Aussie?” There's nothing better than a sweet story to erase the heavy weight the letter left on my chest. “Smooth isn’t exactly something to swoon about.”
“No. I mean your transition from Mom to Ash. Aspen, you lost Father. Can you afford to ignore Mother?”
“What do I say? ‘Hey, I’m sorry you married an asshole, but you were kind of a bitch to him and to us’?”
He sighs. “All true, not what you should say. You two had a good relationship—better than the one I have with her.”
“I think I’ll drive to the Keys and visit her.” I head to Brooklyn’s room. “You want to come over?”
“No, Mom and I are working on our relationship, but from afar. Please, keep me updated. I love you, sis.”
“Love you, Aussie.”
Brooklyn stares at the letter. She narrows her gaze taking the statement from me. Her hand flies up to her mouth, shaking her head she continues. “Damn, girl. You won the lottery without buying a ticket.”
“If I decide to use it, I’ll stop the sale of the properties. Will that be okay?”