Sean’s dead.
All I can do is think of Ryan. This is going to destroy him. After everything he’s done for his brother, this is how it ends? How much can one person possibly take? And where will he mourn? Alone, in a prison cell, accused of a crime he didn’t commit.
No.
All at once my entire life falls away from me and I suddenly start walking.
“Alana, where are you going?” I hear Emily ask, but I don’t respond, I don’t even turn around, because if I do, I’ll lose my nerve.
There’s an extreme transformation of time as I walk. Everyone around me is moving at hyperspeed while I’m stuck in slow motion. All my senses seem heightened, I can feel the slight breeze from the air vents above me, smell the floor polish percolating from the marble beneath me, hear my pulse thump in my ears like a drum inside me, and taste the remnants of my last supper on my tongue; a cup of coffee and a half eaten granola bar.
I stomp up to the door of my father’s chambers and am met by his watch dog, Miles. A court clerk who is a miserable, little snivel of a man with an unhealthy predilection to sweater vests, and treats me exactly like the spoiled rich girl he perceives me to be.
“Alana, you can’t go in there!” he snaps. “He’s about to go into court.”
“I know,” I snap back, surprising him. “That’s exactly why I need to see him.”
To my amazement Miles backs down, but not without a contemptuous glare. I grab the doorknob, close my eyes and take a deep breath; I’m about to wash my entire existence out to sea.
I burst into my father’s office. “Alana?” He looks up immediately, perplexed.
“Daddy I need to talk to you.”
He’s a little taken back, but keeps his composure, just like I’m trying to do.
“What’s the meaning of this? I’m due in court.”
“I know. Daddy please listen.” Shit I should have prepared a little better, because I don’t know what to say. So I just blurt out, “Your first hearing, the guy. He’s innocent.”
“What? Alana, this is highly irregular and completely inappropriate. I can’t discuss my cases with you.”
“I know that, but you don’t know the whole story and you’re about to sentence an innocent man.”
“How do you know he’s innocent? And how the hell do you know him?” My father’s eyes are as cold as a block of ice.
“He’s a friend,” I stumble over my words.
“So then you know I’ve already convicted him once on a very similar offense,” he replies condescendingly.
“Yes, I know, and he was innocent then, too. His twin brother used his identity and Ryan went to jail for his crime.”
My father scoffs like that’s preposterous. Then a disturbed flash of recognition flickers across his face after I speak Ryan’s name.
“I’m not lying to you. He did it because he was afraid Sean would die in prison.”
“And I suppose next you’re going to tell me the drugs they found on him were his brother’s too?”
“Yes!” I respond emphatically.
“So where is his brother now? Because it’s obvious this boy is feeding you a load of lies. Blaming his transgressions on someone else.”
“It’s not a lie,” I demand and my father pins me with his eyes. “Ryan didn’t do it and Sean’s dead. He overdosed.” I wrap my arms around myself, the words singeing my lips. “I’m not even sure if Ryan knows.”
“Alana,” my father says unconvinced. “He’s pulling the wool over your eyes, all he sees is a meal ticket.”
“Daddy-” I protest.
“Alana, enough,” he silences me, “this conversation is over. It never happened as far as I’m concerned. Now go home.”
“No.”
“Alana, don’t push me.”
But I’m going to push him; right to his limit.
“You can’t do this. It’s wrong. He’s innocent.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” I contest, holding back the urge to stamp my foot like a defiant child.
“He’s trash on the street.”
“He’s not and I love him,” I shout, my whole body suddenly seizing. There’s a tightness in my chest and a strange feeling burning my eyes.
My father stands slowly, “Alana, I am going to say this one last time. Leave. Never speak of this again and I won’t retaliate.”
Retaliate? I’m his daughter for Christ sake.
“You won’t retaliate!” I throw his words back at him, slamming my hands on his desk, my palms stinging on impact. I drop my head, trying to hide the emotion, but I can’t control it, it’s too overwhelming.
“I have done everything you ever asked me to,” I say tumultuously. “I’ve been everything you ever wanted me to be, and I know,” my chest heaves, “I know you wish it was me who died in that car accident instead of her.” My eyes are becoming glassier with every syllable. “But I’m begging you now, if you ever loved me, please don’t take Ryan away.” And as the words fall from my lips, so do the tears from my eyes. Huge, wallops of jewels that explode when they hit the desk, ricocheting tiny droplets all over my hands and the cherry wood finish. It has finally happened. I have been stripped bare.
I lift my head and look up at my father; he’s frozen, stunned by my outburst; his eyes like two, huge, brown disks, flat and inanimate.
“Alana, you need to leave. Right now,” his voice is hoarse. “There’s nothing I can do.”
I stand up straight, tears streaming down my face, it seems now that they’ve started, they won’t stop.
I look him dead in the eyes. How is this man any part of me?
“I hate you,” I hiss. “And I’m done.”
“Done with what?” my father demands.
“Done being your daughter.” I turn and stalk to the door, grabbing the doorknob. “Goodbye daddy,” I declare without so much as a second look.
I tear past Miles and back down the marble hallway of the courthouse, balling the whole time. I walk into the courtroom and find Emily and my uncle sitting in the gallery. They both rise when they see me; Emily nearly tackling me with a hug. I sob into her shoulder as she holds me tight, my uncle rubbing my back. When I finally lift my head and look at them, I’m distraught. “I think I’m going to need a place to live,” I snivel.
They both nod feverishly, and Emily pulls me back into her arms. Suddenly we hear the shuffling of feet and the closing of a door. I look up to see Ryan being escorted into the courtroom with a bailiff holding his arm. He halts when he sees me, a myriad of emotions darkening his beautiful young face.
I’m sorry, I mouth. The tears starting again.
A moment later Miles announces my father. I sit down despondently next to Emily. She holds my hand as I just stare at the two most important men in my life; the one who never loved me and the one who always will.
“Have faith, Alana,” Emily encourages.
“Faith, Em? My whole world is about to come crashing down around me. I don’t think faith can help me now.”
We all stare at my father as he commands the bench; stately in his black robe and serious expression. Miles reads over the proceedings, recapping for everyone why Ryan is here. Once that’s finished, it’s time for sentencing.
My father looks around the room impassively before he speaks. Then he addresses Ryan.
“Mr. Pierce, it’s disappointing to find you here again, although not surprising. You are unfortunately the product of your environment and it saddens me that you were not able to rise above it. But I understand the difficulties, I see it in this courtroom every day. Waste that will recycle through the correctional system until it finally just dissipates.”
I squeeze Emily’s hand tightly as I listen to my father’s unconscionable testament; what is he trying to do, twist the knife?
“I believe you deserve the maximum sentence, Mr. Pierce. This is your second offense and I see a pattern beginning.”
“With that being said,” my father declares dissatisfied, “some recent developments have come to light.” Looking straight at me, he says, “I understand you are in a relationship with my daughter.”
My body stiffens as Ryan glances back at me dumbfounded.
“Don’t look at her son, I’m the one talking to you,” my father asserts. “Do you admit to being romantically involved with my daughter?”
“Um, yes sir,” Ryan says confidently, stunned, but confidently.
“Is it still going on?”
“Yes.”
“Well then,” my father stares coolly at Ryan, “because of that small, but vital piece of information, we have a problem. I’m a by-the-book kind of man Mr. Pierce, and when I say by-the-book, I mean, I want to throw it at you. If I had known you had any affiliation with my daughter, this case would have never even skimmed across my docket. And because of that fact, and the conflict of interest it poses, I have no choice but to declare a mistrial.”
A mistrial?
“Ryan Pierce, you are hereby acquitted of the charges brought forth against you by the state of New Jersey, and free to go. Court adjourned.” My father bangs the gavel, and my heart suddenly jump-starts back to life.
I don’t know who to look at first, so I do a quick glance around the room and every facial expression is the same; one of sheer shock.
I don’t remember standing, or walking or even breathing for that matter, but I suddenly find myself in Ryan’s arms. He’s hugging me tightly, murmuring how much he loves me in my ear and it starts all over again, like I’m being sprayed with a goddamn super-soaker, the tears just won’t stop.
“Mr. Pierce,” my father announces authoritatively, “I’d like to see you in my chambers.”
No ifs, ands or buts about it.
Ryan runs his thumbs across my cheeks, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry.”
“You haven’t. No one has.” I sniff.
“Don’t stop.”
“What, crying? Why?” I wipe my face with the back of my hand.
“Because I want to kiss away every tear.” Then he gently swipes his lips over mine, “I’ll be back.”
“You don’t seem nervous.”
“I’m not. The only thing that scares me is not being with you,” he says as he runs his hand down my arm, heading off in the direction of my father’s chambers.
Ryan strides over to where Miles is waiting in the back of the courtroom. He enters, then Miles closes the door. And I just can’t help myself; I walk brusquely after him, past the bench and up to the door. Then I press my ear against the wood. What I wouldn’t give for a warrant and a wiretap right now.
“That’s incredibly rude,” Miles bristles.
“Your existence is incredibly rude,” I snap, then return to eavesdropping.
It surprises me how clearly I can hear their voices through the dense wood. “Alana has told me some interesting tidbits about you and your brother. I don’t take my daughter for a liar Mr. Pierce, but I would like to hear it from you.”
Ryan is silent for a second before he launches into the story of him and Sean.
Sean. Ryan doesn’t know about Sean yet and I dread having to be the one to tell him. This day is nowhere near close to a happy ending.
The last thing I hear Ryan tell my father is, “Sometimes I feel sorry for him, sometimes I feel fed up and tell myself it was his choice to ruin his life.”
There’s a long pause.
“That must be a very difficult thing to live with,” my father comments.
“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you it is,” Ryan responds.
Then another long pause.
“How emotionally invested are you in my daughter?” my father asks bluntly.
“I want to marry her, sir,” Ryan replies openly, and it makes me wish my father would officiate right on the spot.
“And is my daughter aware of this?”
“Yes.”
“And she’s agreed?”
“Um, no, not exactly.”
“Would you like to explain that statement?”
“She didn’t tell me yes or no. She just said I had to ask in order to find out her answer.”
I hear my father grunt, and I don’t know if that’s good or bad. “I see. And were you going to ask my permission first?”
“No,” Ryan says frankly, “but I did ask your brother’s.”
What? When the hell did he do that?
“My brother?” my father counters, as surprised as I am. “Do you know John well?”
“Yes, sir. I designed the logo for his law firm.”
More silence.
“I’ll be honest,” my father finally says, “you’re not my ideal choice for Alana. Not by a long shot. But she was willing to risk everything for you, and because of that, I’ll give you one chance. One.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Is that really my father in there?
“One is all I need.”
“Fine then. You can go,” my father dismisses Ryan. Now there’s the man I recognize.
I step back from the door right before Ryan opens it. I spring into his arms as soon as he walks out, my body craving the feel of his.
“What did he say?” I ask innocently.
“Nothing much, just some guy talk. He’s a really outgoing guy once you get to know him,” Ryan laughs.
“Mr. Congeniality,” I quip.
“Alana!” my father’s voice resonates.
Oh shit.
I look at Ryan wide-eyed. “Are you ready to pick up the pieces?” I ask quickly.
“Yes, and I know exactly where each one goes.” He kisses me lightly; liberating emotions I’ve suppressed deep inside.
I glance at Ryan one last time before I walk into my father’s chambers.
“Shut the door please,” he says from behind his desk while concentrating on some paperwork.
I do as he asks, but I don’t take one step closer to him. I just stand there in my black pants and white oversized collared shirt. My heels digging into the dark green rug like they’re sinking in dirt.
He looks up at me with his eyes only, “Interesting choice of significant other.”
“I know he’s not your ideal applicant, so let’s just get this over with.” I steel myself against the door. “I’ll go. Erase myself from your life and never look back again. I’m sorry I’m a disappointment.”
“Who says you’re a disappointment?” my father retorts.
“You don’t have to say it. I can feel it.”
My father doesn’t flinch.
“Alana,” he addresses me sternly, “today, for the first time, in a long time, I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“Losing you.”
“What?” I squeak.
“I always thought you were like me, but I was wrong. You’re your mother,” his eyes almost look warm when he mentions her. “You have her fire, and her affection and her courage.”
“What?” I repeat blankly, because I am totally floored right now.
“I’m not good at conveying my emotions,” he says as if it physically hurts to admit his weakness, “But you were wrong when you said I wished it was you and not her, because the only thing worse than losing your mother, would be losing you.”
I have become a statue, unable to move. Who is this man? He looks like my father, he sounds like my father, but the words he’s speaking are not my father’s.
“Your mother and I had a very special relationship, Alana.” He looks away uncomfortably. “She was the only one who ever loved me.”
I step forward rigidly, “She’s not the only one. I love you.”
I think that was the most difficult sentence of my life.
My father pauses for a long moment and then looks back at me. “And I you.” His face is still stoic, but his eyes are warm pools of chocolate brown; the reflection of mine
. And I know that was the most difficult sentence of his life as well.
There’s a long pause. And the only sound that can be heard in the room is the rushing of my blood through my hot veins.
“What now?” I ask unsure.
“Do you still want to finish law school?”
“Yes,” I reply automatically. “You’re not disowning me?”
“Not unless you want me to.”
“No,” I answer without hesitation. “But why not exactly?”
This is so uncharacteristic of my father I think I might be in shock, maybe denial, definitely disbelief.
My father sighs, “Alana, sometimes it takes one instant to change an entire life’s perspective.”
“Oh?”
“You walking out that door was mine. So no, I’m not disowning you. I would however, like to ground you,” he says dryly.
I smirk amazed. When did my father become a comedian?
“You said Ryan’s brother died. I’m under the impression he doesn’t know?”
“I haven’t told him yet.” I wring my hands together.
“Then maybe you two should talk,” my father stands up, “You can use my chambers. I’ll utilize Judge Reynolds until you’re finished.”
“Thank you.”
He walks towards me and my heartbeat accelerates; this huge, strapping man with salt and pepper hair and a face chiseled out of stone. There’s no physical exchange as he stands in front of me, no touch or hug or kiss; just a small, barely discernible smile. And although that may not mean much to anyone else, to me, it feels like the crevasse in the earth that separates us just became a little narrower.
I watch my father walk out of the room and Ryan walk in. The two most important men in my world, the one I’ve loved my whole life, and the one I’m going to love for the rest of my life.
There’s no wavering on Ryan’s part, he doesn’t stop striding until our bodies are pressed together and our arms are wrapped around each other. His touch feels so good, like the first few raindrops in a yearlong drought.
Ryan kisses me over and over again, on my forehead and cheeks and lips. “I love you, I love you so much, baby,” he repeats, almost reverently.
“I love you too,” I respond, trying to figure out a way to break the worst news imaginable to him. “Ryan-” I start, but he suddenly drops onto one knee, sliding his hands down my body.
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