Eleven Reasons: The heart-wrenching sequel to Eleven Rules (The Eleven Series Book 2)

by PJ Vye

  He stood there with nothing to offer. Cold, distant and wary.

  She’d built her life around a fantasy that would never come true. This man was a shell. He didn’t feel things. He’d deadened his life into nothingness. She needed to get this conversation out of the way, then be alone to process how her life might look if she didn’t love him anymore.

  For the first time in five years, she didn’t want to be in a room with Mataio Brinn. Sunny wanted wine, food and sleep. She wanted to be left alone in the dark to watch mindless television and forget her life existed at all.

  “You followed me here?” she asked.

  “I saw you at the library.”

  “Today?”

  “A week ago.”

  “Oh my God. And you didn’t talk to me? Do you know how hard it’s been with her, in that library for days on end, waiting for you?”

  “I couldn’t…”

  “You couldn’t what? You didn’t want to see me?”

  His brown eyes glazed over and she couldn’t read his expression. “Why are you here?”

  “Can you please just sit down?”

  Finally, he did as she asked.

  All her words disappeared. She searched for the things she’d planned to say, but nothing came. They both sat there, watching Atali choose another book from the pile.

  “Who is she?” he asked eventually.

  “Atali, this is…Mataio. Say hello.”

  Atali looked at the man who’d rejected her a few minutes ago and offered a shy, “Hi.”

  “Hi, Atali.” Mataio’s mouth stayed open, like he was searching for something further to say, but couldn’t find anything.

  Atali ignored him.

  “How long are you staying here?” he asked Sunny.

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought any further ahead than finding you.”

  He watched Atali some more.

  “Did you get my letters in prison?” she asked at last.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you even read them?”

  He hesitated. “Yes.”

  “You didn’t write back.”

  “You never mentioned her. Who does she belong to?”

  “She’s my daughter, Mataio.”

  “Did you adopt her?”

  “Adopt her? No Mataio. I gave birth to her.”

  His face didn’t move as he considered what she’d said. “You wrote every week I was in prison. You never mentioned her.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to feel bad.”

  “Feel bad?”

  Sunny wanted to pick up the girl and walk away. Mataio looked so composed. So separate. Like he already knew. What a joke, to think she hadn’t told him to spare him. He didn’t need to be spared anything. He was devoid of emotion.

  “Atali is four and a half years old.”

  He gave her a cool nod, his brown eyes locked firmly in the distance. “So she’s m—”

  “Yes,” Sunny whispered, aware that Atali could hear.

  “That’s why you wanted to see me.”

  “Yes.” That would do. He didn’t need to know the rest. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the rest, right now.

  “Do you need money?”

  Sunny tried to match his impassive face, even though his words cut. “No.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Nothing. Not from you.”

  Mataio stood, staggered a moment, then began to move away.

  “Wait,” Sunny called, and Atali came over to hug her mother’s legs, obviously hearing the anxiety in her mother’s voice. “Can you give me your number at least? In case I need to contact you again.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Mataio, she’s wonderful.” Sunny couldn’t keep the raw emotion from her voice.

  “Mummy?” asked Atali, her face concerned. “Why are you sad?”

  Sunny lifted her daughter up into her arms and Atali touched her face. “How could you not want to know her?”

  “Know who, Mummy?” she asked, staring at the man she saw as the cause of her mother’s anxiety.

  He might be cold and unloving, but he was here, and Atali might never get another chance. “Atali, this is your daddy.”

  A small flicker of agony crossed his face, but then it was gone.

  Atali buried her face in Sunny’s neck and said, “I don’t want him to be my daddy.”

  Mataio’s jaw set in a straight line. His eyes darkened. “I gotta go.”

  “Wait, please.”

  He continued to walk toward the door.

  “We’ll stay here another week. If we don’t see you, I’m taking Atali back to England. It’s up to you.”

  The front door closed. Had he even heard her? She’d just said she’d wait another week. Why? Wait for what?

  Anxiety turned to anger. What kind of man was he? Why would she want to be with a man who cared so little? She was doing it all over again. This was Judd, version two point zero.

  Laurence was perfectly kind and loving and good to her, a great father, and yet she felt nothing for him. There was something wrong with her. Something screwed up in her head. Could she unscrew it before she ruined the rest of her life, waiting for something that didn’t exist? Atali deserved so much better. So do I.

  “Come on, Atali. Let’s pack up these books and go home.”

  “We are home.”

  “No, I mean home, home.”

  “Where’s that?”

  Sunny didn’t even know. But it was her job to find out.

  “We’ll know it when we get there.”

  “Okay, Mummy.”

  Sunny managed to hold off the tears until later, when Atali had fallen asleep and the room was dark. They fell in rivers, gushes of salt water that washed away every dream she’d ever had about a loving family, as she packed their clothes and booked a car.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Watching Michael Fui in the stand denying that he’d killed La’ei had been difficult.

  The smirk on Fui’s face when he saw Mataio testify? That had been difficult, too.

  Keeping his hands unclenched and his face impassive while Fui’s lawyers cross examined him? Difficult.

  Meeting his four-year-old daughter that he hadn’t known existed? Beyond difficult.

  Walking away from the woman he loved, and the child he’d never hold in his arms? Impossible.

  Mataio ran the streets of Richmond until he reached his studio flat, then ran some more, into the next suburb and then the next. When it became dark, he turned around and walked.

  Who was he? How many times could he let her down before she got the message and stopped trying to contact him? When he’d been serving a life sentence, she could have escaped him. Now she was compelled to include him. He knew her. She was good and righteous and would never try and keep the girl away from him if he chose it.

  But he would never choose it. Never.

  If only she knew how destructive he could be. He’d tried to show her. If only she believed it. Then she’d never let that little girl anywhere near him ever again.

  What did he need to do to get Sunny to move on with her life? Die? Disappear? Kill someone?

  His brain hurt. He needed to stop thinking. Stop seeing the tight dark curls on the little girl’s head. The brown eyes that reminded him of La’ei. A voice like an angel speaking. Those tiny hands wrapped around her mother’s hand.

  Something so perfect did not belong with him.

  Nothing perfect belonged with him.

  “Excuse me,” said a young blonde-haired woman who pushed past him and through the gate. Without realising it, he’d walked back to the white, wooden hostel and stood blocking the path.

  What was he doing here? He’d been heading home. He had no recollection of walking this far. None. Now that he was here, maybe he should give her a way to contact him, in case Atali needed something? It wasn’t fair to leave her with no support.
He was a father now. He should be paying some kind of child support. It was only fair. It was the least he could do. He owed her.

  He hurried behind the blonde woman and followed her in through the front door. She didn’t seem worried he didn’t have a key, even though it must be close to midnight. At the reception he rang a bell and a middle-aged man in joggers appeared. “Can you tell me what room Sunny Johnson is in?”

  The man gave him a long look and Mataio realised he’d been running for hours and probably stank. He took out his medical ID. It had been cancelled but the card didn’t show it. The man checked his name and Mataio watched him struggle with his memory. “You’re Mataio Brinn?”

  “Sunny?”

  “She just checked out.”

  “What?” The impact of the words sank in fast. How would he find her now? God, he was an idiot.

  “She’s in the lounge, waiting for a taxi cab.”

  Mataio found her with Atali asleep on her lap. She gave him a blank expression when she saw him. Her body looked tired and heavy.

  A car horn tooted.

  Wordlessly, he picked up Atali and held her over his shoulder. Weightless in his arms. The most precious thing he could ever remember holding. Sunny didn’t object. With his other hand he picked up her suitcase and she followed him out to the car.

  He gave the driver his address.

  “I’ve got a pickup for the airport,” said the driver.

  Mataio explained the plans had changed and the driver shrugged and keyed in the new address.

  Sunny said nothing. As if she had no energy to make a decision about any of it.

  When they arrived at Mataio’s unit, he carried the girl into his own bed. Sunny crawled wordlessly in beside her. Mataio found a blanket and lay it on the floor, a few feet away. He hadn’t slept on the floor since the days of the laboratory. It didn’t feel any easier. But now, under his roof, were two of the most priceless creatures in the world.

  He knew it wouldn’t last. So, he allowed himself to indulge, just for a moment. Tomorrow he would say goodbye. Tonight, all three of them were together. This one night would have to last him a lifetime.

  He listened to them breathe, the long steady rhythm of Sunny, the shorter, louder sigh-like energy of Atali. A symphony of life. He let his own breath match theirs.

  He’d dreamed of being a father when he was younger. Talked about it to La’ei. How much better he’d be at it than his own parents. How he’d read to his kid, play basketball, help them with their homework, love their mother. Everything his own father hadn’t done. If he got angry, he’d walk away and come back when he’d calmed down.

  How naive he’d been back then. To believe he could control his genetics. His own father probably thought he could control it too, in the beginning.

  He wished things could be different. But they weren’t. The situation was what it was.

  Mataio drifted off to sleep, and dreamt of unicorns being smashed in the face and rainbow-coloured dolls having their heads torn off.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  It took a moment to realise where she was. Atali kept touching her eyes to see if she was awake, afraid to speak in case she got into trouble.

  “Mummy,” she heard the whisper in her ear. “Why is that man on the floor?”

  Sunny dragged herself awake and looked around the room for the first time. It was a tiny studio apartment, with a sink and microwave and little else in the kitchen, some kind of bathroom to the left and a window butted up against a brick wall.

  Sunny sat up and Atali started to bounce, happy she was finally allowed to be awake. Mataio stirred on the floor and Atali instantly hid behind Sunny’s back. “That man’s name is Mataio. Do you remember?” asked Sunny.

  “I don’t want him here,” whispered Atali.

  Sunny assumed it must be strange for Atali, considering she went to sleep in one room and woke in another. Sunny wanted to tell her to quiet, but then, why shouldn’t Mataio know how he made the four-year-old feel? He creeped out Atali for a reason. He needed a better bedside manner if he ever intended to work as a doctor again.

  “How did you sleep?” The voice came from below.

  “Good.” Atali’s reply was squeaky. She gave Sunny a lop-sided grin.

  Mataio didn’t answer. Quite possibly, he was surprised Atali had spoken to him at all. He stayed on the ground. “Do you like pancakes?”

  “No,” chimed Atali.

  “Waffles?”

  “No.” She screwed up her nose.

  “Toast?”

  “No.”

  “Cornflakes?”

  “I don’t know what that is.”

  “Donuts?”

  Atali took a quick short breath. “Yes.” The idea of donuts for breakfast made her face light up.

  “Yogurt?” he asked.

  Atali looked at Sunny for confirmation. When her mother nodded, she said, “Yes, but I like donuts too.”

  “And juice?” asked Mataio.

  “Yes.”

  “You have all that here?” asked Sunny, trying to see where he’d store such a lot of food with virtually no cupboard space.

  “No, but there’s a 7-Eleven store a few doors down.”

  The man behind the voice rose from the ground, threw on a jumper and shoes and left, without another single word. Sunny and Atali stared at each other, and Sunny wondered what her daughter must be thinking. Mataio was unlike any man Atali had ever met. She was used to being the centre of attention. She could turn a grown man goo-goo in minutes. She had a way. A mixture of cute, sass and beauty, with the words to match. There was no heart she couldn’t melt. Until now.

  “Do we have to stay here, Mummy?” Atali asked, looking around the room.

  “I don’t know. I have to talk to Mataio.”

  “Why?”

  “About some grown-up stuff. Is there something you want to do today?”

  Atali shrugged. She hardly ever made unreasonable demands and Sunny was grateful.

  “Good news,” said Sunny. “We don’t have to spend the day at the library today.”

  Atali jumped up and down on the bed a few times and Sunny let her. She’d not complained once about all the library visits, but she knew Atali missed the fresh air and outside play.

  “Playground?”

  “I think we can manage that.”

  “Will Taio come?”

  A rush of nostalgia filled her. Taio was the name Tulula used for Mataio when she was in a good mood. La’ei had called him that, too. Atali had never heard it spoken, yet had shortened it the exact same way. Sunny wondered how Mataio would feel about that.

  While they waited for breakfast, Sunny helped Atali dress and together they made the bed. “Do you think he knows I like the strawberry ones?” asked Atali.

  “I don’t know. He doesn’t hang out with little girls like you very often. That’s why he might not seem very friendly. But I know he likes you.”

  Atali stared at Sunny like she wanted to believe her. “Is he really my daddy?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said finally, as if she alone knew the answers to such things.

  Keys clattered and Mataio appeared with a bag of food in one hand and three hot drinks in a cardboard tray in the other. “Hi,” he said, awkwardly.

  “Where do we eat?” asked Atali with her arms outstretched. She could barely contain her excitement. “There’s no table.”

  “I don’t know, Atali. Where do you think we should eat?” Sunny asked.

  Mataio stood silently, obviously waiting to be told what to do next.

  “A floor picnic?” suggested Atali.

  “Perfect. I’ll spread a rug.” Sunny grabbed a blanket from the bed and placed it on the floor. “Would you like to spread out the food?”

  “Okay,” she said happily. Mataio lowered the bag to the ground and Atali pulled out each item, barely looking as she went, clearly focused on finding the donuts and confirm if there might be a strawber
ry one. By the time she got to the bottom her face dropped. She looked over the spread again in case she missed it. Yogurt, savoury biscuits, a packet of muesli bars, juice boxes, two apples and two bananas and a bowl of instant porridge. No donuts.

  Her lip quivered and Sunny reacted quickly. “Yum, this yogurt is your favourite, Atali. Mataio, do you have any spoons?”

  Atali’s disappointment spread into loud protests and tears. Mataio seemed disinclined to move, so Sunny eventually got up and found a bowl and spoon and returned to the carpet. There wasn’t time to reflect on the picture in front of her. Atali and Mataio sitting together, in the one room, in the one space. She’d only ever imagined this scene in her dreams. Now, she realised she’d only imagined the best scenarios, never the worst. Never the one where Atali might reject him, or he’d let them down, or not love either of them.

  Mataio found his voice—gentle—though his expression hadn’t changed. “There were no donuts. I walked to three different stores. They’ve sold out. No bread either. I’m so sorry, Atali.”

  The sound of her name from his mouth made Sunny’s chest ache. Atali pushed her face into Sunny’s leg and wouldn’t be consoled.

  “No flour?” Sunny asked.

  “Suppliers ran short. Low milk too,” answered Mataio, his voice muted.

  “Really?”

  “Yogurt will be next.”

  Atali lifted her head dramatically. “Nooooo,” she cried. Both adults watched as she took off the lid of the yogurt and ate directly from the large tub.

  “At least it’s strawberry,” said Sunny.

  Mataio and Sunny’s smiling eyes met at the unexpected connection over their child. She grabbed one of the coffees and took a sip, but found it hard to swallow.

  Sunny noticed he’d bought three coffees and pointed. “Atali is four.”

  “I’ll drink it,” assured Atali.

  Sunny laughed and Mataio watched, his face set in its usual unreadable expression. There was so much to say, so many questions to ask, but she wasn’t ready to rush the happy family moment. “So, where have all the donuts gone?” she asked.