The Breaking Season

by K. A. Linde

  I stomped upstairs and found Candice’s room. I knocked and then entered. Candice was lying in the bed, hooked up to an IV so very similar to Katherine’s. Lars looked pale and uncomfortable.

  “How’s it going?” I asked.

  “Excellent now,” Candice said. “I have drugs. We’re setting up for an epidural.”

  “You don’t look so good, Lars.”

  Candice just laughed. “He doesn’t like that we’re going against the birth plan. But I am all about spontaneity. Modern medicine is here for a reason, Lars, darling!” She smiled up at me. “Where’s Katherine? Is she doing all right?”

  “She is… downstairs.”

  Even though I’d declared to everyone present at the gala that Katherine had anorexia, it felt different to do so here. I’d been in the midst of an emergency. I’d just taken charge, as I so often did. But I’d seen how much it upset her. I didn’t want to destroy her privacy.

  “She’s not feeling well.”

  “Well, I’ll be here all night. So, she can come see me later when she’s better.” Then, Candice moaned. “Ugh, contraction. Hold on.”

  Lars was there, holding her hand as she squeezed through it.

  “Phew,” she said. “That wasn’t fun.”

  “I’ll leave you guys to this. I can be here later if need be. I’m going to get a drink.”

  “Oh my god,” Candice sighed. “I’ll finely get a fucking drink tomorrow. Camden, you’d better be ready with the best gin and tonics in the city.”

  I chuckled dryly. “Will do.”

  I headed out of the hospital and stared up at the sky of scattered stars overhead. They were hard to see in the city. The pollution and smog obscured most of them, but I could still barely make them out. I wanted to be light-years away from here. So very far away from all of my problems.

  My chest tightened with pain and also a hollowness that I knew all too well. I needed my inhaler. I’d been so good without it since Katherine and I made up. Fuck, my lungs felt so tight. Everything hurt.

  I buzzed the limo, and it pulled up almost right away. I piled into the backseat and dove toward the box where I’d left the lifesaving device. I found it and took two quick puffs off of it.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I didn’t even feel better.

  I lay out longways inside the limousine and stared up at the top of the car as if I could see through it to the sky beyond. Everything hurt. Was it supposed to hurt this much? Was losing her really worth it all?

  Fuck, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go on without her. I didn’t even fucking want to.

  I might be a bastard in the boardroom, but I didn’t want to lose my wife. I felt adrift with the knowledge that I’d die before letting her go. Actually, literally die. I felt like I could at any moment.

  “Where to, sir?” my driver asked.

  I closed my eyes and tried to decide what to do. It would probably be smartest to call Court, get wasted at his place, and wake up the next morning, ready to deal with all of this. Somehow, I couldn’t bring my problems to Court’s doorstep. He’d be offended that I ever thought that, but he and English were so happy. I couldn’t even fathom being around anyone that happy right now.

  No, I couldn’t stay in the city. I couldn’t stay so close to Katherine and yet so far away.

  “Hank’s,” I finally said to the driver.

  The car drove off, shepherding me away from the hospital. Katherine had told me to leave. All but forced me out. And yet, I didn’t want to do it.

  Stupid.

  It was all so fucking stupid.

  Was I determined to be just like my father?

  Unable to fix anything. Only make problems worse. And then abandon the problem when it got to be too much. Was I just trying to control her the way that my father had always controlled me?

  The thought left me feeling sick. I was not my father. I’d spent my life learning to emulate him, to guard myself against his attacks. And also figuring out how to slowly eradicate any part of him that had touched me.

  Apparently, I hadn’t done a good enough job.

  And in the end, I was just like the old man.

  In nearly every way.

  The limo pulled up in front of Hank’s. By then I’d gone through several small bottles of liquor that I’d found in the minibar of the limo. I wasn’t even close to drunk yet, but I was well on my way. Maybe I could convince Monica to slip me a bottle, so I could forget the shitshow that had happened tonight.

  I stumbled out of the limo and told my driver to go home. I’d crash at my apartment nearby. He could come get me in the morning, or I’d catch a cab. Right now, I didn’t even fucking care.

  Hank’s was slammed. The bar was packed wall to wall with patrons enjoying the finer points of the steady establishment. Ricky called out to me, but I didn’t even stop to see where he was in his game. I just needed a drink. Several drinks.

  There were two bartenders at Hank’s tonight, and I slouched into a stool in Monica’s section. It took her a few minutes of pouring drinks to even see me sitting there.

  “Camden,” she said in surprise. “Wasn’t expecting you in here tonight.”

  “Me either,” I grumbled.

  She reached for the scotch and slid a drink to me.

  “Keep ’em coming.”

  “Will do. Tequila tonight?”

  I shook my head and downed the drink. “Nothing to celebrate.”

  She frowned and passed beers to two guys nearby. “What’s up with you tonight? Thought things were going well for you. Did you tell your girl you loved her?”

  “Sure did,” I said, reaching for the drink as she poured me another knuckle’s worth.

  “Didn’t go as planned?”

  “It did. But… it’s complicated.”

  “Let me get a few more drinks covered for the tables, and you can tell Mama Monica all about it.”

  I waved her off, burying myself in the drink instead. I could have played a game or two if there were any tables open, but there weren’t. It probably was for the better. With how morose I felt, getting competitive wasn’t a good idea. I might blow up on someone. Take out my anger on an unsuspecting victim. At the end of the day, I was still Camden Percy. I couldn’t do that for my image.

  Monica came back fifteen minutes later and refilled my drink again. She’d pulled in a third bartender, who had been hanging out in the back. Everything seemed to be running much smoother with the help.

  “Now, tell me what’s going on,” she said with a wink.

  “My wife is… sick,” I told her reluctantly.

  “That’s not good. Is she going to be okay?”

  “I think so. She fainted, and now she’s in the hospital. But she’s terrified of being there after she had to stay in one when she was younger.”

  “That’s unfortunate.”

  “It is. Well, I got mad at her for lying to me about her illness. So, I just kind of… made her go to the hospital. Even though she didn’t want to. Now, she feels betrayed that I did that without consulting her. That I had to be in charge and in control, no matter what.” I blew out a breath. “That I’m just like my father.”

  “But you were doing it to help her?”

  I shrugged. “Yes. I was terrified that she was going to hurt herself.”

  “Sometimes, people don’t know when they need help. You can’t blame yourself for doing the right thing.”

  “I don’t know. Was it the right thing?”

  “You don’t normally second-guess yourself,” she observed as she added ingredients to a shaker for a pair of shots.

  “No, I don’t. But then again, neither does my father, and he’s a jackass. So, maybe stopping and thinking might have been good for once.”

  Monica leaned forward. “Do you love Katherine?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you go back and change what happened?”

  I hesitated. “No.”

  “Then this sounds like it has nothing to do
with that situation. You did the right thing by Katherine even if she doesn’t like it. You two can both be in the right in an argument. That’s allowed when things are complicated.”

  “That’s true,” I said, downing another gulp.

  Monica looked to the ground and then back up at me. “Finish up that drink, kid. Let’s go for a walk.”

  I raised an eyebrow. I was pretty drunk. Walking didn’t seem like a good idea. But the look she shot me brooked no response. So, I finished the drink and stood unsteadily. I blinked a few times to force back the feeling of intoxication.

  “Hey, I’m going on break,” Monica said to the other bartenders and then slipped under the bar to meet me.

  She gestured for me to take the side entrance out the back. There was a couple making out against a brick wall and another cluster of guys smoking nearby. Monica dragged me away from them until we reached a beaten-in, old bench.

  I was still in my tux.

  It took me a minute to realize that I’d shown up to Hank’s in my tuxedo. What the hell had I been thinking? No wonder everyone was looking at me funny. Even Monica. I’d untied the knot at my throat and undone the first button at the hospital, but that didn’t seem to matter. I’d shown up here as Camden Percy from the Upper East Side. Not the pool shark that they were used to. I was me either way, but this… this outfit changed things.

  Fuck. I hadn’t meant to do that. I was so fucking out of it.

  I slumped onto the bench next to Monica.

  “You’re a bit of a wreck tonight,” she said.

  “Tell me about it. What are we doing out here?”

  “You looked like you needed some fresh air.”

  I shrugged. “Sure.”

  “And I have to tell you something.”

  She actually looked… frightened. I straightened slightly. I’d never seen anything but the hardened, badass Monica behind the bar. She seemed so… small out here, on this bench.

  “Tell me what?”

  “I want you to promise me that you’ll let me explain.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Okay.”

  “Promise, Camden. Say the words.”

  I stilled even further at that. “I promise.”

  It felt like a curse out of my mouth. I stared into her eyes and wondered what in the hell she was going to tell me. And why she looked like she was going to cry.

  She took a deep breath. “I’m your mom.”

  35

  Camden

  “Camden,” Monica said gently, “I know it’s a shock.”

  A bomb had gone off.

  My ears were deaf.

  There was a ringing as I stared through the debris.

  “Please say something,” she whispered.

  “You’re not my mother,” was the only thing that I could get out.

  She frowned. “I know this is hard to take in, and I’m sorry for that. I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you so many times.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She looked hurt, but she still had that stubbornness about her. “About two years ago, you went to the police chief and asked him to help you find your mother,” she said. “That’s why you became friends in the first place. It’s why you came here with him.”

  “No one else knows that,” I hissed.

  “I know. You had to go to José directly—with blackmail against him, I might add—so that he wouldn’t take it to your father.”

  I stood and shook my head. “How the hell do you know this?”

  “You promised,” she cried as I turned away from her. “You fucking promised.”

  My teeth ground together. This was too much. Way too much. This night was a disaster. And this… this couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t possible.

  But I had promised. As much as I wanted to walk away and never, ever look back, I turned, and I waited.

  “I don’t know what you had on José. It doesn’t matter anyway, but he did what you asked. He came looking for me.”

  “My mother’s name is Helena Percy,” I spat at her. “She was born Helena McAdams on Long Island, New York. She didn’t… she wouldn’t…”

  “I know,” Monica said flatly. “I know what I was. Securely middle class, wide-eyed, innocent, beautiful, and everything a domineering, excessively wealthy man wanted to own. And I loved your father for many years. I really did.”

  “Stop,” I said, wanting to block out the words.

  “Carlyle was doting and kind. He showed me a world that I never could have imagined, and then a miracle happened—you.”

  “This isn’t real,” I said, denying reality. “You know nothing.”

  “But the baser tendencies that I ignored so I could love Carlyle came out with a vengeance after you were born. I tried to flee to escape him. I tried to take you with me, but you know who he is. What he’s capable of. He hamstrung me through the divorce, took everything, including full custody of you. He told me if he ever saw me near his son again… he’d kill me.”

  “No,” I croaked.

  But I knew it for truth. There was something in my chest that said that she wasn’t making this up. This was the father I’d grown up with. I could see him doing this precise thing. If he couldn’t have the woman he claimed to love, then no one could. Not even me.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, a tear running down her face. “I was so young. I didn’t know how to fight for you. He wouldn’t let me. So, I ran. I changed my name. I escaped his shadow, and I tried to move on.”

  “But your husband and son…”

  “They were your father and you.” She choked. “I never married again. No other children. I dated, but…” She shook it off as if she couldn’t ever explain how much she had been hurt by my father.

  How we both had been destroyed by him.

  “If all that’s true, why didn’t you tell me who you were?” I turned back to look at her. This woman I’d trusted, who I’d turned to for advice. She’d felt like… family. Like a new family. But I’d never known what… who she truly was.

  “I wanted to tell you,” she said, swiping at the tears running down her face. “When José found me, he came to the bar. He knew my past with Carlyle. He wanted to keep me safe. We agreed that he’d bring you here, to Hank’s, where I worked. That we’d meet, and at the end of the day, I would decide when to tell you.”

  “He told me it was a dead end,” I said angrily. “He told me that Helena Percy no longer existed.”

  “Which is true. Helena Percy no longer exists,” she said, holding her palms out to me. “I’m just Monica now. I’m not what I once was. And… I’m glad. I’m stronger.” She stood to meet me, and I saw that strength on display. “But I should have told you before today.”

  “Why didn’t you then?” I snarled.

  Something broke inside me. Some part of me unraveled, and all the cool calm that I’d managed to keep in check for so many years just went up in smoke.

  “Why didn’t you tell me who you were, Monica? I came here at least once a month for two years. I stood at your bar. I played pool. We joked and laughed and gambled. You gave me advice. I dropped my problems on your doorstep. You laughed about my issues with my father. All while hiding behind the fact that you had been married to the man! That you’d left me! That he’d apparently forced you out of my life!” I couldn’t hold back the shouts as I raged against the woman before me. “How could you look at me—knowing I was your son, knowing what I was going through—and say nothing?”

  Monica didn’t back down. She didn’t even flinch at my outburst.

  Instead, she stepped forward, and she put her arms around me. I struggled against her for a second, but she held steady. She didn’t let me go. Now, after all this time, when I wanted to be left alone, she wouldn’t let me go.

  “I’m sorry,” she said firmly. “I’m so sorry.”

  I cracked again and slowly put my arms around her, too.

  “I should have been there. I should have told you. You’re right. You’re s
o right.”

  “Why?”

  “At first, I was afraid that you’d reject me,” she said, pulling back to look up into my eyes. “I thought you’d see the woman I’d become… and walk out. Or that you’d believe whatever your father had said or that you’d become him in my absence. I didn’t want you to run away. I wanted to get to know you. And I’m so glad that I did.” She brushed my cheek with her fingers. “You’re nothing like him, Camden. You are your own man. Despite all he has done to hurt you, you’ve never let him break you.”

  “I wanted you there.”

  “I wanted to be there,” she admitted. “After I got to you, I admit to selfishness. We had a relationship. Albeit not the one that I’d wanted. But it was more than I had ever dreamed of having. I worried if I revealed myself, then Carlyle would find out, and he would try to silence me again. Then I worried that… I would ruin our friendship. It was selfish, all of it, and I’m so sorry.”

  I wanted to break away from her. I wanted to curse at her. I wanted to escape and never look at this moment again. But she’d gone through enough. We both had. At the end of the day, didn’t we deserve this after all we’d endured with my father?

  So, I pulled her in for a hug and just held her. I held her without a word. Just the two of us for the first time in forever.

  When we finally pulled apart, she brushed another stray tear with a laugh. “This is the most I’ve cried in years.”

  “Thank you…for finally telling me.”

  “Oh, Camden, I should have done it ages ago. Things were so complicated. I knew that my reasons for not telling you were right, but you not knowing was wrong. I… I just had to tell you today. I couldn’t let you sit there and think that you were like your father. Not when you were protecting Katherine at all costs. Even when she didn’t want your protection, you were still there. That is the opposite of your father.”

  I ran a hand back through my hair. “I can’t believe he did all of that to you… and at the same time, I can totally see him controlling you to the point that he made you want to leave.”