All Our Lives

by Violet Haze

  “But, you love me—“

  “Yes, I do. And when you love someone, you do what’s best for them, no matter how much it hurts.” He leans in, placing a kiss upon my forehead, lingering for a moment before turning his back on me. “I know you don’t understand, but you will. If you’re with me, it’ll be because you want it, not because I gave you no choice. And the only way that’ll happen is if I give you all the power.”

  He exits the room without even a backward glance.

  And in this moment, I hate him for what he’s done.

  For what he said.

  For leaving me without even glancing back one last time.

  For shattering the heart I didn’t even know I had against the floor.

  And most of all, for making perfect sense as he did it.

  ~*~

  My grandmother is the only person who returns to the room after Tobias’ departure.

  I’m standing in the exact same place I was when he left, and she guides me over to the couch. When I look toward the door, she gives a small laugh.

  “Don’t worry,” she assures me, “Ivor is right outside. I wanted a few moments alone with you before dinner.”

  I know she can tell I’ve been crying from the way she looks at me full of concern, yet she doesn’t say anything about it.

  “You’re different than I imagined,” I admit, looking down at my lap. “All of this is just surreal.”

  “Oh honey, I know exactly what you mean. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather after I saw that picture. I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, and I was actually sixty-four, because the girl in the paper looked an awful lot like me.”

  “It is uncanny.”

  She nods, quite for a moment, before lifting my chin with gentle pressure, and regarding me with kind eyes. “I’m sorry he didn’t stay. I can tell you didn’t want him to go. You haven’t been married long, have you?”

  My mouth quivers, so I take a deep breath to prevent myself from crying, and give her a wobbly smile. “Not even a month. But, we didn’t marry for love.”

  I’m not sure why I say that out loud, but it’s true. At least, I didn’t marry for love.

  Which makes the ache in my chest at his departure rather confusing.

  “Really?” She raises a brow, giving me that ‘don’t lie to me’ look all mothers perfect as she tugs me out of my thoughts. “Because when I hugged you, he looked absolutely tortured. I’m sure this came as a shock to you both.”

  “I didn’t expect this, that’s for sure.” I’m happy to change the topic, wanting to learn more about my family. “I found out at eighteen that I was adopted at age three. I’m not sure of the specifics, other than they had no idea who I belonged to, their only information my name when I gave it to them.” Then, because I want to know, I ask, “Why didn’t you answer the phone when I called yesterday?”

  She stands up, tugging me along with her, as Stephen opens the door to let her know dinner is ready.

  “I wanted the first time we spoke to be in person,” she replies as we leave the room. “It was my fault for not having Mr. Cain tell you that.”

  I nod. “Makes sense. You made quite the first impression.”

  “It’s been a long twenty-eight years; making any impression other than one of absolute joy would simply waste time.”

  Well, I suppose I can tell Tobias I know where I get my insane sense of calm during situations from.

  As we enter the dining room, she squeezes my hand before letting it go, murmuring, “After dinner, we’ll talk about your mother.”

  “I’d love that.”

  The first thing I notice is Marshall, sitting at the head of the long, gigantic table. He looks up as my grandmother seats me on one side of him, and takes the other side for herself. Our plates are on the table, but I don’t even notice what I’m eating as I study him.

  My mother had his coloring — from the pictures, I knew she favored him with her blond hair and brown eyes — and her features were a soft, feminine version of his. His hair is mostly silver now, but like my grandmother, he doesn’t appear his age.

  As we eat in relative silence, curiosity about a certain topic has me asking a question before I can prevent myself from doing so. “I’m curious,” I say as I put down my fork, “why you two have Mr. Cain as your attorney? He’s not exactly nearby.”

  They both look over at me at the same time, but Marshall is the one who laughs. “We have many attorneys, dear, in numerous locations. But, Mr. Cain used to live in this area, and his father worked for us.”

  “Oh, was he an attorney, too?”

  “No,” he shakes his head, pushing his plate away as he finishes eating, and frowns. “He was part of our security team up until about four years ago when he retired.”

  “Ah, I see.” I lean back, finished with eating. “That makes sense.”

  He stands up. “I’ve a few things to do. I’ll leave you ladies to chat.” He kisses my grandmother’s cheek before patting my hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  When he exits the room, I stare at my grandmother. “Why do I feel as if he’s not really glad I’m here?”

  She sighs. “It’s not you.” She rises from her chair and indicates I should follow her. Walking down the hall, I sneak a glance over my shoulder to see Ivor silently following us, then turn back around as she leads us up the stairs. Opening a door, she turns a light, which illuminates a room with walls covered in pictures and newspaper articles.

  As I stand there, gaping, she walks over and points to a framed picture of my mother’s face. “This was taken right before she told us she was four months pregnant with you. Marshall was so angry, especially when she wouldn’t tell us who the father was, and refused to speak to her. She’d always been so strong willed,” she tosses me an amused glance, “just like me, and you, I’m sure of it. But those two were always thick as thieves, and he was very disappointed in her. When she told us, he told her he’d never been so disappointed in her as he was right then, because he believed she was ruining her life.”

  My mother’s face is lit up in a beautiful smile in the picture. I step closer, musing, “It’s hard to reconcile her happiness here with the sullen face she’s making in the picture you sent with Mr. Cain.”

  Looping her arm through mine, we both gaze up at the picture, until she shakes her head. “A few weeks before you were born, Amanda became depressed, accusing us of preparing to toss her out. I would’ve never done such a thing; she was my one and only child, the daughter I loved more than my own life. It hurt to see her in so much pain, so I told her I’d never kick her out. I said we’ll hire a nanny, especially with her depression, because I knew it would probably get worse after you were born. At the time, I had a lot of commitments and so did her father, but by the time you came into the world, Marshall and her were no longer speaking. Living with them both had been terrible, and their silence continued even after you were born, until the day that photo was taken when they argued for the last time.”

  “What did they fight about?”

  “He asked Amanda who the father was, and she refused to answer. She started screaming at us that we wouldn’t understand, you were her baby and nobody else’s, and to just let her be. So to separate them and let everyone cool down, I took us all out for a while. We walked around, but she wasn’t happy. I asked the nanny to snap a photo, which she did, and then the next morning, all three of you were gone.”

  “And he blamed himself.”

  “He did. He still does. And when they found her body…” Her voice trembles, her hand squeezing my arm a little tighter, “I’ve never seen him cry as hard as he did then. It nearly killed him that the last thing he ever said to her was how she disappointed him.”

  It’s like being smacked in the chest, for I know exactly how much regret he felt at having his last words be ones he could never take back.

  “He shouldn’t blame himself. He had no way of knowing…”

  “Yes,
well, I’ve told him that many times over the years, but finding you was unexpected. You weren’t unwanted, but he felt like losing you and her at the same time was his punishment. Give him some time. He’s having a hard time believing you’re alive, let alone returned home.”

  That makes two of us, I say in my head at her statement.

  “I will,” is what I say out loud. “Will you tell me about her?”

  She smiles and leads me out of the room, chattering the whole way about what my mom was like as a child, lifting my spirits.

  And taking my mind off the way Tobias left things, even if only for a little while.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The first week with my grandparents ends up being a quiet, peaceful time.

  And so different from what I expect.

  Francis informs me that both her and my grandfather were only children of only children. I learn I don’t have any uncles or aunts or cousins. Her and my grandfather are it.

  I tell her that is enough for me. After all, knowing where I came from is all I’ve ever really wanted to know since discovering my adoption, and even that hasn’t been something I ever thought I’d get a chance to experience.

  As for Marshall, he is slowly warming up to me, but is still cautious, as if he fears I’ll disappear any second.

  Now, sitting out in the garden, Ivor next to me on a bench, I share what happened between Tobias and I when we arrived a week ago with him.

  “He’s right.” Ivor stares out into the garden. “You’re merely angry because you know he is. You can’t deny the truth in his words.”

  Sighing, I put my face in my hands. “I’m not sure what to feel. All I know is I miss him.”

  “You should tell him that.”

  Tears spring to my eyes, making me glad my face is hidden from his view. “It’s only been a week. I shouldn’t miss him. I’m not even sure I like him right now.”

  “Lass.” He speaks softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Look at me.”

  When I lift my head, he’s holding out a tissue, which I take with a whisper. “Thank you.”

  “He loves you,” he says bluntly. “You can be angry at him for having feelings, or you can understand where he’s coming from. He doesn’t care about any of this shit personally; he just wants you. But, I watched his face as he stood there, witnessing you being hugged by your grandmother, and he was devastated. He stepped back because he cares and only wants what is best for you. How can he say it’s best for you to stay married to each other, when you don’t even know how you feel about him?”

  “I married him, didn’t I? I didn’t have to.”

  “Correct, you didn’t. You did it to save your diner, or so you tell yourself.” He shrugs as I glare at him. “Truth hurts, but you’re the one who needs to figure out your feelings, not him.”

  “I know why he did it,” I whisper, the acceptance of his words lowering my shoulders in defeat, “but it doesn’t make it any better. I’m not good with feelings, especially when he made it clear that accepting this life might mean forfeiting the other.”

  “Not good with feelings? Tell me, if you never saw him again, would you be happy?”

  My reply is instant and vehement. “No.”

  “Then figure out what would make you happy, and put the man out of his misery.”

  “Gee. Thanks, Dr. Phil.”

  Chuckling, he stands up. “Look. Everything is messed up, lass. In this life, and all the others, you’ve been through a lot. You loved this man so much, you died for him, several times over. Seems to me, in this life, you’ve got some attachment issues, and you’re afraid to love anyone unless it’s one hundred percent safe. Too bad nothing is safe in this world, and nothing is guaranteed. You might be in danger from a mystery man who has wanted you for the past six lifetimes and will kill anyone to make it happen, but I don’t think he’s the biggest threat to your happiness. I think you do a great job of sabotaging that all on your own.”

  My mouth drops open, but before I can come up with a response, he turns around and walks away.

  Leaving me with nothing except his words in my head and an ache in my chest — a feeling I’m sure won’t be going away any time soon.

  ~*~

  As I lie in bed later that evening, I realize the hardest thing for me is the fact he hasn’t called me.

  Not even once.

  Difficult because the morning he gave me a lift home from the hotel, he became a part of my daily life.

  And of my thoughts.

  I hate that I miss him.

  I hate the fact Ivor is right.

  Even at my wedding, when I told myself I accepted my fate, I lied to myself.

  I don’t want to like him. I don’t want to miss him.

  And I certainly don’t want to love him.

  All because loving him means being vulnerable; something I’m not sure I know how to be with anyone.

  Looking back at the day we arrived, I know why he felt the way he did.

  Why he said what he did.

  It’s because I hold his heart in my hands, and even though he said he was leaving me with all the power, he didn’t truly mean it.

  We both know I’ve no idea what love is or how to accept it.

  So as I lie here in bed, I finally tell myself the truth.

  I don’t have anything to give him or any other man; at least, not at this point.

  All these years I avoided being anything more than a one night stand because I wasn’t ready to handle anything more.

  The problem is, now I don’t know how to change it.

  And curse or no curse, he deserves so much more than that.

  He is worthy of the me from past lives — the one who would slice her own throat to avoid living without him — not the broken woman I am now.

  Which only leaves me with one thing to do.

  I pick up my phone and dial his number. When he answers with a subdued “Hello, Joce,” it takes all I have to say the words we both know are coming.

  “I know you meant every word you said,” I choke out, “and I want you to know I’m not angry at you. You love me enough to let me go, although it goes against every single thing you want, and every promise you’ve made since we met. And I…”

  “Love.” His voice is gruff, tortured on the other side of the line, but I cut him off.

  “No, please don’t.” I take a shuddering breath, clutching the phone tighter in my hands as I finish what I called to say. “I have felt loved more in these past couple months than in my whole life. Even growing up, I had great parents, but I always felt like something was missing. And as much as you love me, you don’t love a whole me, and we both know it. I wish I could say I love you, and that’s why I think you deserve better, but I don’t know what love is. All I know is that you deserve more than I can give you, than I may ever be able to give you. So, that’s what I called to say. I called to say I’m not ending it, only you can do that, but that’s up to you. I have to work on myself and if you want to wait, you can wait. But if not, I…I understand.”

  Then, before he can respond, I hang up the phone, crying as I never have before.

  Leaving me to wonder if doing this will end up giving me the results I want.

  And utterly terrified I’ve made things worse.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  After many discussions and preparations, the day arrives where I’ll be publicly acknowledged as the long-lost granddaughter of the West family.

  A fact that makes me nervous as hell.

  My whole life is about to change even more than it already has.

  It’s been made very clear that Ivor is to never leave me alone, especially once the announcement has been made. I told him I thought him being my guard twenty-four seven as excessive, but he wouldn’t hear of another guard being hired to give him time off.

  “I get enough down time when you are at home,” he’d said, ending the argument.

  My grandparents insisted with me being kidnapped once, nobody co
uld be sure of what would happen, and therefore, they’d rather be safe than sorry.

  Which means when I go out in public, there is no privacy, and no more normal.

  Standing in my bedroom, gazing out the window, I watch as the various t.v. stations arrive for the announcement that will be given right outside the gates.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks,” my grandmother says as she walks into the room. “They will leave once they are told to.”

  “They don’t even know why they are here. How do you know that?”

  “Because those who break the rules are never invited back, and nobody likes to be in our bad graces. It looks bad for them, not us.”

  I believe her. From what they’ve told me and the things I’ve read, they’ve always been generous benefactors to many organizations and groups, including one for assisting in the search of missing children. They expected to receive the same respect from people that they themselves gave to those in need.

  “You needn’t say anything,” she continues, placing her hand on my back as she stands next to me. “If they ask something you don’t want to answer, or if it’s rude, we will take care of it.”

  “All right. How long do we have?”

  “Ten minutes. I wanted to make sure you were ready for this.”

  I lift my shoulders, sighing. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

  She’s silent for a moment, then asks in a gentle voice, “You haven’t heard from him, have you?”

  I shake my head.

  It’s been three weeks since I called him and he hasn’t called me.

  Ivor reports on the diner to me, which is how I found out another manager had been hired to assist, which I am grateful for. I call and check in with Molly and Nicole, but it’s really unnecessary as everything is under control.

  I’ve no doubt Tobias gets updates on me from Ivor, but he hasn’t called me himself.

  And I can’t blame him.

  I know he’s giving me the space I need, but it doesn’t mean it’s painless. In fact, it hurts more than I ever could’ve guessed.