by Beth Maria
“Right now, I can’t be, but eventually, when everything is back to normal, yes, we can be friends again. I just can’t right now though.” I nod. I understand. If the roles were reversed, I don’t think I could be friends with him, knowing that he loved someone else. “Here you go,” he says, passing me over my takeout cup. I hand him my change and go to take a seat at the table that I normally sit at.
I stop in my tracks, and I feel the blood drain from my face.
I feel like I’m looking at a ghost. Judging by the pale look on their face that I’m sure mirrors my own, they feel exactly the same.
My takeout cup falls from my hand, the hot coffee splashing onto the floor, droplets slashing up my leg, scalding me. I don’t feel it though. I’m in a stare down with the person who I thought was long dead.
“Emilia?” they ask quietly, like they can’t believe it’s me.
I think I’m hallucinating. It can’t be, can it?
“Mom?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel sick. I really must be hallucinating from the lack of sleep these past couple of days. My mom can’t really be sitting in front of me, can she?
No, it’s absurd!
Well, it was until she decided to stand up and slowly walk toward me. How can you imagine all of that? She looks one hundred percent real to me, with not even the fog of a shadow that usually hangs around ghosts.
My mom really is standing in front of me.
“Is it really you?” I ask slowly, quietly, like I’m scared that she will disappear into thin air.
She chuckles nervously. “It’s really me.”
“But how? What? I thought you were dead!” I screech. I’m drawing attention to us. Even Harry is looking our way, confused.
“Sit down. Let’s talk.” Lottie points toward the table she just vacated.
I shake my head no. “I can’t.”
“Of course you can.” Her voice is soft, gentle, just like I remember. She looks just like I remember, only with a few more wrinkles and wiser to the world than she was when I was younger. She doesn’t look anything like me except for her smile and figure. Everything else about me is from my father.
“No, I can’t. You, you left me. I thought you were dead, and you allowed me to think that. Do you know what I had to go through for years because you left me? I had to endure the wrath of him! Nearly every single day. He ruined me, and then he took Phoenix from me. I’ve only just got him back, and I’m not going to lose him. I don’t know why you keep in contact with him, but leave him alone.” I’m walking backwards, my steps shaky. My whole body is shaking.
“Emilia, please-”
I cut her off. “And stay away from me. I mean it, Mom.”
Her face falls, her head hanging down. She looks distraught. Well, that’s nothing compared to how I feel. She left me, and now she expects me to welcome her back? I know that’s what she wanted to talk to me about. I’m not stupid. She would have told me some bullshit story, made me feel sorry for her, hoping that I’d forgive her. Well, no. This time, I’m going to be the one to leave her.
“Emilia, are you okay?” Harry worriedly asks.
“I’ll talk to you later, Harry.” I give him a sad smile, my eyes misting over. He reciprocates it but doesn’t say anything else.
When I’m in my car, I quickly start the engine and drive off. I don’t check the rearview mirror. I don’t want to see what I’m leaving behind.
I drive around the block and park. That’s when I let the tears flow. They burn my eye sockets, but I welcome the pain. This is nothing compared to everything I have ever felt in my life, what I felt when I saw Phoenix fall unconscious in the cage.
How much bad luck can one person have? Surely it must be coming to and end and there’s a silver lining, right?
My cell rings. I wipe my nose and clear my throat before answering.
“Hello?”
“Phoenix is asking for you. How long are you going to be?” Maxine’s frustrated voice asks down the line.
“I’m on my way. Tell him I’ll be twenty minutes.”
“On it. See you soon.” I hang up.
I check my appearance in the rear-view mirror. Luckily, my make-up isn’t too bad; nothing that I can’t salvage. Thank God for waterproof make-up.
I have a new determination as I drive toward the hospital. I have to find out why Phoenix has been in contact with my Mom, and why he didn’t tell me that she was alive. Why did he allow me to think that she was dead when he knew otherwise?
I just hope that he has a valid excuse.
****
“There she is!” Phoenix pipes up.
He’s sitting up in bed with a huge smile for me. It melts my aching heart just a little.
“What took you so long?” he asks.
I sigh. “I wasn’t gone that long. You told me to go take a shower – you were right, by the way. I stunk. Then I went to your apartment to get you a change of clothes. Oh, and I stopped and got myself a coffee. I don’t know how much more of the hospital coffee I can drink. It’s yuck!”
I’m rambling, and he knows that.
Phoenix raises his eyebrows in question. I shake my head. I’ll tell him when Max and Dylan have gone.
“Now that you’re awake, Phoenix, I’m allowed to have a go at you. What on EARTH were you thinking about? You gave us all the fright of our lives. I’m banning you from fighting ever again!” Maxine stresses.
I stay quiet, lost in my own thoughts while she has a go at him. I know he won’t listen to her. If he wants to fight, he’s going to fight. Maxine isn’t going to change that.
And I was right. Phoenix didn’t lose his temper, but in a few words told her to drop the subject. She did.
It’s an hour later when they both leave. I’m relieved that they’re gone. I don’t know how much longer I can keep all of this bottled up to myself. I need answers.
We talk about how the scan went earlier and the results. Luckily, there is no long term damage, just a concussion. The doctors apparently warned him to give fighting a break for a while to allow him to recover. Even though there isn’t any long term damage, his brain still suffered trauma. If he won’t listen to me and Max, maybe he will listen to a professional?
“You fancy telling me what’s on your mind?”
“Not really, but I have to. Otherwise, I’m not going to be able to focus on anything else.”
He waits while I get comfortable, shifting around a few times before finally settling on the first position I was in. My elbows are on my knees, and I’m leaning forward so that my head is in my hands.
I hate that there are so many secrets between us. How can we move forward if that’s the case? That’s why I need to speak what’s on my mind, to give him a chance to explain.
“You received a text earlier when I was leaving my apartment…” I don’t look at him. I can’t. I can feel his eyes staring holes into the top of my head.
“Okay…”
“I read it, Phoenix.” There, I said it.
“Who was it?” His voice is cautious.
I look up at him through my lashes, letting him witness the hurt behind my eyes. He gasps as soon as he sees it. He rears back, as if burnt by my stare. I’m open to him, raw for all to see.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you were in contact with my Mom?” My voice is barely a whisper, sounding detached. Will it always be this way whenever I mention her?
Phoenix closes his eyes, swiping his hand down his face. He’s been caught out.
He doesn’t say anything. He just looks and looks at me.
“Why did you allow me to believe that she’s been dead for all these years? Why didn’t you tell me that she was still alive? I should have known that she abandoned me, that she left me with that monster for most of my life. Instead, you watched from the sidelines, watching me becoming a completely different person, somebody who was broken, when all along, you were in contact with her.”
“Em-”
“She tried to explain herself to me too, do you know that? I didn’t give her a chance. She left years ago and expects me to listen to her now, when I thought that she’d been dead for years?” I shake my head. This is unbelievable. I’m getting riled up just thinking about it. How could she do this to me? How could they both keep this from me?
GAH!
“Em, please let me explain. It’s not what you think.”
“What is it then, Phoenix? What could you say that could possibly make this okay because really, I’m truly intrigued?”
This better be good.
“Your Mom had to leave, Emilia. It wasn’t because she wanted to leave you. She didn’t. She was made to. Nico threatened to kill you both if she tried to take you. Lottie tried to think of ways to leave with you. My parents helped her to get both of you out of there, but it backfired. Your father found out that his wife was planning to steal his child, and that his best friend had betrayed him. You know what happened to my parents. I’m not stupid. I know exactly what happened to them too. Your father nearly beat your Mom to death, but you know that because you’ve told me about it before. Then he had her banished. She couldn’t return for you, for fear of him making true on his promise to hurt you.”
No, this can’t be true. This is just an excuse, isn’t it?
Is it really though? I already knew that Phoenix’s parents had died when he was younger. I just didn’t know it was because they were trying to help my Mom. Then again, I didn’t even know that she was alive.
It doesn’t excuse the fact that Phoenix never told me. He should have. He could have helped us keep in contact, to meet up, yet he didn’t.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“How could I? You were hurt. You thought your Mom had died. I wasn’t going to turn around and tell you that, in fact, she was very much alive and kicking.” His eyes are begging me to understand.
I can’t. He kept her from me.
“Why didn’t you help us keep in contact? I loved her. Jesus, I mourned for her for years!” I’m becoming hysterical. I don’t know whether I want to scream, cry, or laugh. It’s overwhelming.
Phoenix rakes his hand through his hair, which is in need of a haircut, in frustration.
“Your father has been following you everywhere you go for years, Emilia. It’s only been recently that he’s stopped. It’s why I’ve been able to be as close to you as I have been recently. If you had made contact with your Mom, he would have found out. I couldn’t allow that to happen. I couldn’t risk the possibility of anything bad happening to you. I don’t want to lose you, Em. It would kill me.” His icy blues are sad, filled with sorrow, hurt and worry. It calms me down – just a little.
I don’t doubt for a second that my father had a hand in this. He’s nasty, cruel, and manipulative like that. He ruins everybody he comes in contact with. He’s like a poison – one that I’ve had enough of.
Phoenix’s parents, George and Francesca, didn’t deserve to die at the hands of my father for trying to help. Phoenix didn’t deserve to become an orphan at such a young age, to have everybody ripped away from him. No wonder he turned out the way he did, wanting to fight. But wait…
“Why did you start working for my father if you knew everything that he’d done?” It doesn’t make sense.
He exhales. He looks completely worn out, and I’m not helping any. However, I have questions that need answering, concussion or not.
“I-” He sighs again. Whatever he’s about to say, he’s struggling with. “I can’t tell you right now.”
“You’re joking, right?” I ask incredulously.
“No, I’m sorry. I can’t tell you in case anybody is listening in. Eyes and ears are everywhere. I can’t risk it. I’m sorry.”
As soon as Phoenix averts his eyes, I know the conversation is closed. There’s no point pressing it; he won’t tell me until he thinks it’s just us, if then.
“When do you get to go home?” I change the subject, even though absolutely nothing has been resolved.
“Hopefully tomorrow. They want to keep an eye on my concussion for another twenty-four hours, but then, if all is good, I get to go home.” I nod my head. “Come here.” He taps the bed next to him.
“Oh, no, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Emilia, get over here now. I want you next to me.” His tone is stern.
I obey.
I rest my head on his chest, being careful of possible bruising. His arm encases around my shoulders, holding me tightly. I can feel his breath on the top of my head. I close my eyes, basking in the warmth and closeness I feel right now.
So much has happened these past few days that I need a break. Being able to cuddle up to Phoenix like this is a dream, one that I didn’t know I would ever get to do again a couple of days ago. I’m not going to take that for granted again, even if I am irritated that he won’t tell me what’s going on. For once, I’m going to live in the moment and forget about everything else. It’s just me and Phoenix for now, nobody else.
“You should give your Mom a chance to explain, by the way. You both deserve an explanation,” Phoenix murmurs into the quiet room a little while later.
I don’t reply, preferring to pretend that I’m asleep.
He’s right; we both deserve to get finality over the situation. I’m just not ready yet. I don’t know when I will be either.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It’s been nearly a month since Phoenix’s accident.
I’d say that life is perfect. I’m the happiest that I’ve been in ages, and it’s all thanks to Phoenix.
After he was released from the hospital, he was told to take it easy. I made sure that I checked on him everyday, called, texted, and more often than not, I was at his apartment. I’ve spent the majority of my nights staying with Phoenix too. I go to work and then tend to go to Phoenix’s. It’s the same routine nearly every day. We’ve grown so close, just like old times.
I expressed that we need to talk to each other more, that there are to be no more secrets between us; otherwise, we won’t work. He agreed profusely and so far seems to be sticking to his word. It’s saved us a lot of arguing. I now know that it was the main reason we argued – we didn’t trust each other because there was no communication. I feel like we’re moving on to the next step in our relationship, a step in the right direction.
We haven’t spoken about the message he received from my mom, or why he’s still working for my father even though he knows everything that he’s done. It’s a sore subject, one we’re both not ready to venture to yet. Soon, but not yet.
“You ready?” Phoenix shouts from the living room.
“One second,” I reply, pulling on my PJ bottoms.
“Well, hurry up. The movie’s about to start, and the popcorn is getting cold.” Eurgh, men. Why do they always feel the need to rush us women?
“Incorrigible man,” I mutter, getting my bed socks on.
Arms snake around me from behind, a chin resting on my shoulders.
“What was that, my sweet Emilia?” Phoenix drawls in my ear. Goosebumps pimple my skin.
“I said, you’re incorrigible.”
“Oh, is that right?”
I scream as Phoenix starts tickling my sides. I fall on my side on the bed, curling up into a little ball like a hedgehog. I’m so ticklish, and he remembers this.
“Phoenix, STOP. Please!” I beg through my tears of laughter.
“Am I incorrigible?” he asks smugly.
“No, no, you’re not,” I lie through my teeth, anything to stop him tickling me.
And he does. Both our breathing is labored. I turn around so that I’m lying on my back. He’s lying on top of me, just staring down at me with his intense eyes. I stare right back.
A strand of his hair falls into his eyes. Lifting my hand, I gently sweep it back, allowing me to see his icy blues once again. I’m addicted.
We’re both silent for a few minutes,
both immersed in starting at each other, engraining each other to memory.
“What are you thinking about?” I whisper, breaking the silence.
His thumb sweeps out, gently rubbing my cheek. It’s feather soft, loving.
“I’m thinking about how beautiful you are. You’ve always been beautiful to me, but right now, with you lying underneath me, your hair spread out on my bed, staring up at me with nothing but love in your hypnotizing brown orbs, you’re mesmerizing. A sight to behold – one that I will never tire of looking at.”
I think I just swooned. It’s not often that he is romantic with his words, but rare moments like these, where he lets his barrier drop for a few minutes, it’s precious. His words make my heart melt.
“I love you,” I whisper, getting choked up.
“I love you too, my sweet Emilia.” His lips gently brush against mine in a tender kiss. It’s quick, but it speaks a thousand words. Then he’s standing up next to me, the air making me feel cold without his body heat to keep me warm. “C’mon, let’s go and watch this movie.”
I want to protest and ask if we can get into bed, snuggle, and keep each other warm. I’d love nothing more than to share body heat, but I know Phoenix has been excited to watch the rest of the Rocky movies with me. I love seeing him happy.
We walk into the living room. I sit down on my usual end of the sofa, while Phoenix grabs our drinks from the kitchen and places them on the coffee table in front of us before sitting down, placing my feet in his lap like usual and then pressing play. It’s our comfortable position. We never sit differently when I’m around. And he will start rubbing my feet in, three, two, one… ah, there we go.
Heaven.
Rocky III starts, the theme tune starting. Damn, I’m trying so hard right now not to throw punches and pretend like I’m a boxer. To keep my hands occupied, I take a handful of popcorn, eating it piece by piece.
It’s quite late when we’re what I’m guessing is about three quarters through the film. I’m struggling to keep my eyes open. With Phoenix rubbing my feet, he’s like a snake charmer, putting me into a state of hypnotic bliss.