by Nivia Borell
“Haven’t you ever seen a guy cry, or what?” I question. She stiffens a little but gives nothing more away. She says she’s sorry, and, of course, I am entitled to cry.
“What would your reaction be if it were your father lying there?”
“I wouldn’t react at all, I presume.”
“What happened to you?”
“Love.”
“Love? How stupid is that?”
I yearn to stir a reaction in her. She trudges over to the window once again immersed in whatever she saw there. Her body is halfway craned as she cradles her arms to her chest and answers, “I don’t know, Alexander, you tell me,” she retorts. “Since I know your mother died of the same syndrome I have. So please correct me if I am wrong, but who’s the cold one when you make fun of the syndrome that killed your own mother?”
‘Oh, cold and a bitch.’ What sane person would fall for the frozen princess? Not me! I step beside her with the only difference being my eyes scan her feminine frame, and hers peer out the window.
“Let me guess, Bria. The dude found out you don’t possess a heart and left you to drown in your own coldness.”
“That would be it. So perceptive of you.” Her head tips toward me, and she claps.
“Why are you here? You can’t be older than eighteen. Aren’t you a little too young for a romance drama?”
She rolls her eyes but responds. Such an honor! I think. “Isn’t it obvious? Your father and I are both in the hospital with heart problems. Age doesn’t count, and the heart can shatter at any age. The difference is mine couldn’t take it as well as most people who lose the love of their life.”
“I’m sure as soon as you get out of here, you’ll fall head over heels with the next guy.”
Good grace! Doesn’t anything provoke a reaction in her? I question as I roll my hoodie to my elbows and my back leans on the wall.
“What you suggest is impossible.”
“What is so special about this one? Let me guess… your first boyfriend took your virginity, and your future plans fell apart? That’s life, princess. Get over it. It’s not a big deal. It’s not like you would have married him.”
Out of nowhere, for one tiny second, she squeezes her eyes shut, and her jaw twitches. If I hadn’t been staring, I would have missed the slight tremor. Okay, this chick is crazy… marriage at eighteen? Is she aware we live in the twenty-first century?
“I assume you’ve never been in love, Alexander.”
“I don’t intend to ever fall in love.”
“No one has the power to control love, it will find you, it finds us all, sooner or later,” she deadpans.
Hmm. I don’t know what to make of it, but during the entire time we speak, I’m not bored, not even for a second.
I squint my eyes at her and scratch my chin with my fingers. I intend to discover more because her whole ‘I’d rather be all by myself’ riff plays havoc with me.
“You know he will be fine… your father. I mean, he will survive it.”
“Are you now also a psychic or something?”
She doesn’t even spare me a glance as she answers, “I believe you are well aware that your father is an obstinate man, and he can’t seem to let me die. He couldn’t save your mother, and he sees me like some sort of soul salvation. If he rescues me, then maybe the guilt he feels will ebb. You will hate me probably, but a tiny part of me covets he will not make it because I will have to keep my part of the deal, and I don’t know if I want to.”
Hearing her admit such a hideous thing… I have never been aggressive toward a woman before, but her nonchalant confession goes against my moral compass. My body trembles with fury.
“Not a fan of hearing the truth, Alexander?”
“Your cruelty knows no boundaries, does it, Bria? A beautiful face with an ugly heart. Such a waste.”
Her shoulders lift in a half shrug, and she says, “Insults will get you nothing from me, Alexander. I am not disrespectful toward your father as he knows my thoughts, and that’s another reason he’ll come out of this surgery well. He is adamant about keeping me alive.”
She must have read my mind because she adds, “I hope you are not scared of ghosts because you’ll be sharing a house with one.”
“I’ve never met a stranger person in my life, Bria. You scare the crap out of me, and you’re a girl,” I admit, trying to make the oddness bearable, my eyes locked on her.
“A girl?” She raises an eyebrow, and her eyes challenge me. “Don’t be a sexist. It would reflect poorly on your self-confidence and worth as a man.”
“You…”
“What is with me? What do you mean?”
“Everything that’s wrong, and more, has something to do with you.”
“Oh, okay,” she answers, and the flatness of her tone switches on every instinct in me to challenge her.
“Are you incapable of reacting or feeling?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe you. There is no such thing. I just think you’re better at keeping yourself in control.”
“You may think what you wish. It doesn’t change the reality.”
Our gazes clash together, and adrenaline pumps through me.
“So, if my father makes it through the operation, what happens next?”
“He’ll stay here until my life is no longer in danger, and then when I am ready, we’ll fly to the states. I’ll enrol in management courses at New York University and then work for Holex for the next few years under his guidance.”
“That easy, huh?”
“It’s your father’s plan. Don’t blame me for it.”
I cross my arms around my chest and state, “I will lead the company, not you. Or aren’t you satisfied with having my father and now you want the business, too?”
“The Holex Company is all yours, Alexander. I have my own to rule. I will take my chance at working under Quinn’s guidance and become the professional I need to be when I go back to my responsibility as an heir of the M&S Retail Group. Regarding your father, I don’t know what you want me to say.”
Her lack of reaction, not even a damn blink or the matter of fact tone, maddens me.
“Don’t you have your own father? Your own family? Why do you want mine? Where are they, anyway?”
Her mouth sets in a hard line as she rests on the window frame, her lashes fluttering with annoyance with my incessant questions.
“I have a father, a mother, and a brother who used to have a daughter and a sister, but she died inside three months ago. And they are not coping well with the personality switch. They have an international company to run, so it’s for the best. They visit me when they can. I don’t want to snatch your father away. He accepts me as I am and has no expectations. He wants nothing more than to see me alive, and I crave his nearness because around him, I am not the damaged girl everyone else sees, or maybe he hides it better than everyone else. Your father is a smart man. You should be proud.”
“So, you deem yourself as a lost cause, but my father is too blind to see it?”
“Alexander, we see what we want to, not what we should see when it’s right in front of us.”
“Tell me about the deal. Help me understand you.”
She ambles toward the bed as she pats the pillow where my father’s head had rested. She peers at me from under her curly lashes and adds, “I can tell you about the deal, but don’t try to understand me. You’d have to be as torn as I am. It happened. One day, I was brought to the hospital because I had a heart attack. Over the next few days, I had two more heart attacks. They tried to stabilize me, and then I was flown here. The doctors said they had to operate so they could fix the damage.”
My feet launch on their own accord, and I find myself beside her, our arms touching. I dip my head and give her what I hope to be an encouraging smile.
“On the fourth day, my doctor gave me the news, breaking my sanity. To keep me alive, my brain developed a condition that rendered me incapable of feeling.
So, along with everything else, my parents had to face when they came to see their daughter in better condition, it was me in her place. I believe it’s the weakness of the sheltered. I sure was unfit for the wrath of life. I had no shell, and I had no idea how to embrace it the first time it struck. Your father sees me as a strong person, but can a person be strong when her own weakness put her in this state?”
“This is why it is called life,” I retort and pat her on her hand for a second before I realize what I am doing, and with not a better alternative, I let them hang around my body. Something in me wants to comfort her, and it freaks me out as I pull myself together and add, “It doesn’t come with instructions and rules. And I think you are just conceited, Bria. You’re not special. Life loves to test everyone and no one in particular. It’s not a win-or-lose game. It’s survival of the most adaptable that makes it bearable.” Did I just go all Darwin on her? I shake my head and continue. “And you are a survivor, so I guess you learned lesson number one. Embrace yourself, princess. There is no end in sight.”
I watch her impassive face and question, “What is the condition called, because let me tell you, I still don’t know if I should believe you.”
“It is termed ‘emotional numbness.’ You can Google it.”
I do exactly that on my cell phone, elated my hands have something to do.
“Ah. They say people experiencing it are unable to feel, and they emotionally disconnect from a situation.” I swing from my cell phone to face her. “So, you build these walls around you for protection, right? But it’s not permanent, or is it?”
She is cute in her attempts to explain with her shoulders held straight, hands cutting through the air, eyes driven, and her mouth arching with every vowel. Her pose resembles one of a teacher, but the only difference is Bria holds my attention for more than a few seconds.
“There’s more. You see you develop this shield as a coping mechanism, and in my case, believe me, it is a constant. Ask my therapist. He says he has never seen a worse case of emotional rigidity, repression, and lack of desire to move on. I keep telling him it is self-preservation. We don’t get along. And when he wanted to prescribe anti-depressant medication, I just had enough. If I let the shield drop, I will lose the fight that keeps me alive, and I’ve promised your father a few more years.” Bria peers at me with curiosity. “Aren’t you interested in how our alliance began?”
I nod, my curiosity piqued even though with every sentence she utters, more questions arise at the surface of my brain.
“A few weeks after my operation, I met your father. He looked at me as if he recognized in me something familiar. It was strange, and that peculiarity made me inquisitive. When you are here for a while, like your father or me, information slips through. Even with our secluded and private care rooms, somehow everyone knows what’s wrong with the others. Your father and I saw each other from time to time when we were out of our rooms.
“At the beginning, he smiled at me, neither a probing nor out-of-pity smile. His crow’s feet stretched with a sincerity behind his eyes. Then, after a while, he greeted me. At one point, we introduced ourselves. I confess, Alexander, your father succeeded more with me than my therapist who brags about being the best in the country. But Quinn’s strategy of approaching me as if I were some wild animal in a cage worked. He gained my trust and respect. Later on, we confided in each other and formed this rather strange friendship and bond considering our age difference.”
She tilts her head and squints. “You know, he always talks about you, and maybe I would have never proposed our deal if it weren’t for you.”
“What?”
Is this girl for real? I can barely keep up with her.
“The guilt is eating your father alive. He blames himself for everything as I do. This is why your father and I understand each other. We face the same demons, and although we’ve lost the battle for ourselves, we hope we will win the fight for each other. I thought he should be bestowed with both trying to save me and regaining your love. He loves you, Alexander, but like everyone else, you want proof of love, and proof demands actions and not just trust. So, Alexander, find it in you to try. It would grant you peace and closure and set him free.”
“How do you know what I want or need?” My voice cracks, and I could punch me.
“I am incapable of feeling, but it doesn’t mean I cannot see. I’m not blind, Alexander, but observant.”
“And what do you need, Bria?”
“Pain.”
My mouth hangs open as my eyes search hers. “Are you a masochist, or what?”
“Don’t ask if you don’t want to hear my answers.”
Okay, let’s skip this topic, and maybe next time I’ll find a way through the jungle of her brain.
“So, how did you come up with the deal?”
“It was what he said during one of our encounters, and I guess he hit a raw spot and pushed me toward wanting to go on. He discovered nothing personal could reach me or motivate me, so he gave me something measurable instead, the promise of control that gives me the strength to carry on and keeps my sanity intact. As long as I have total control, nothing can drive me off my path. And owning a company grants you oversight. So, for the next few years, I’ll work toward having myself under command, and then, taking over the strategic and operational management division of my family’s business. Your father will make the transition easy for me. I will work in the same division at Holex as long as I need to form the necessary skills to leave something behind worth remembering more than a girl capable only of destruction.”
“What have you done that’s so bad, Bria? What are you guilty of?”
“I’ve destroyed a heart, a love, and a future in the blink of an eye. I still pray I haven’t halved the whole family.”
My head throbs, and my heart constricts with the weight this beautiful and too young girl carried with her. Plus, she is strange and cold and incapable of feeling, and damaged, but who am I to judge her? At least with her, I will always know where I stand. And maybe a feminine touch would be a good change. So, I utter, “Bria du Mont, welcome to the family.”
And then everything around me, myself included, freezes because her luscious lips curve into a smile, and my whole world shifts. In one second, she bound me with this small gesture. Her whole face radiates light and beauty, and my heart skips a beat. I was ruined because I would do anything in my power to see that smile again and again, and I hoped one day her empty eyes would shine too. I would see to it, at all costs.
“Thank you, Alexander.”
“Alex.”
“Excuse me?”
“Call me Alex. We’ll be living in the same house and playing broken family, so I think it fits.”
“If you wish it. Alex, then.”
And then she darts and grasps my hand in a firm shake. It was my turn to beam. Bria continues to keep me on my toes, what a refreshing change!
“At first, I was sure I would throw you out the window, and now I welcome you to the family. See… no one is truly sane, Bria.”
“Well then, we could call ourselves the most insane people around.”
Was that a joke? And it was such a poor attempt, but my body rattled with laughter, the kind when the mouth and all teeth were bared because she’s hilarious. She takes in the sight of me, and my laugh suspends on my lips.
“Don’t, Alex.”
“Don’t what?”
“If this is going to work, first you have to stop pitying me and instead realize this condition keeps me breathing. And second, be yourself around me because, believe me, some normalcy is pretty welcome when you feel surrounded by numbness and madness. Do you agree?”
“Absolutely, I think we’ll be just fine.”
I wasn’t one-hundred percent certain, but the challenge is on. We were all three out of our minds, but we have only one life, and I don’t know how long either Bria or my father still have to enjoy it, so I embrace this new trial.
Present day…
Making a summation of my memories for him, I sway my head in Damien’s direction. If it wasn’t for the steady beat of his chest upholding his whole body, I might think he was a statue. With being reassured I have his full attention, I plunge back to my story…
“The day my father had surgery was the first time Bria and I chatted and spent time alone. In the years that followed, it would become a cherished and desired routine. We created our own world where she can be herself, and I would be there for her because she became my whole life. It has never been reciprocal. I give and give, and she takes it all unconsciously and never consciously hands me anything back. Loving her is enough, though. Her presence is my personal taste of what a family means albeit dysfunctional I am sure, but I could never make a comparison between what normal should imply and how our family dynamic is. Does the sound of her in my life sound even remotely familiar to you, Damien?”
I might have touched a sore spot as the veins in his neck throb in a vigorous beat. I thought it would split his skin open as his stormy eyes promise retribution for all the pain I have caused. I purse my lips. He still pretends to be the mighty and unfeeling bastard. His raised eyebrow challenges me with its insinuation of ridicule as I lift my chin and order myself another glass of amber liquid. After the strong and flaring taste hits my throat, he scoffs his answer. I don’t have to peer to see guilt tormenting him.
“No, it doesn’t,” he mumbles.
“Where were you when she was in that hospital?”
My question is full of the acid scorching my throat. The glass shatters under his scrutiny, let alone his death grip on it. I guess another soft spot. Check.
“Deep in a bottle of Lagavulin 12 trying to forget the love of my life cheated on me. And I never knew the truth, not until tonight,” Damien snarls, and I reciprocate.