by Hart, Stella
“It’s never too late,” Mom insisted, forehead wrinkling.
I gave her a hard look. “Sometimes it is.”
She reached over and patted my left arm. “Look, Logan, I know how hard relationships can get. Believe me, your father and I have had a lot of issues over the years.”
“By issues, do you mean the mountain of whores he keeps on the side?” I asked.
Dad’s frequent affairs with Wonderland girls were no secret. He’d been flaunting them in front of Mom since I was a kid.
Her lips tightened. “I wasn’t actually referring to that, but I suppose it’s a good point. We’ve had a lot of problems in our marriage, including the affairs. It really hasn’t been easy.” She paused for a second, eyebrows gathering in. “Do you want to know what I’ve learned over the years, though?”
“What?”
“The importance of forgiveness,” she said, lifting her chin.
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. “Seriously?”
I wondered just how forgiving she’d feel if I told her the truth about Willow; that the future daughter-in-law she was so fond of once tried to kill her daughter.
I couldn’t let her know, though. She was too delicate.
She was so messed up all those years ago when she thought it was just a random hit and run that left Chloe in such a terrible state, and I didn’t want to make things even worse for her. Ever since I was a kid, she’d told me how much she was looking forward to having Willow join our family one day. If the dark truth was revealed to her, it would probably break her. She already cared about Willow so much that it would be like losing another child.
She nodded and held up a palm. “I know it sounds clichéd, but if you want a relationship to work, you have to find a way to forgive your partner’s faults, no matter how bad they are. You have to find a way to push through all that muck and keep loving each other.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t think Willow and I can do that.”
She sighed deeply again. “I know you still have issues with her over whatever she did in the past, but don’t you think you’ve punished her enough?”
“I don’t know,” I muttered.
She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve put that girl through hell, Logan,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “I don’t know what she did to you to make you think she deserves so much pain, but I really think it’s time to stop. It’s time to find a way to forgive her.”
“I’m not sure I can do that, Mom.”
“If you don’t, the toxicity will keep building and building until it eats you both up. I don’t want to see that happen to either of you,” she said, shaking her head. Her eyes were wide and pleading now. “There must be a way to sort things out and move forward.”
“Look, I’ll try, okay?” I said stiffly, needing her to drop the subject. “Anyway, I have to go. I was actually on my way to see her.”
Mom’s lips turned up in a warm smile. “Oh. Good. Let me know how it goes.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll see you later.” I gave her a brief hug and started walking down the hall again.
“Oh, Logan?”
I turned my head over my shoulder to see my mother still looking at me. My brows furrowed. “Yeah?”
“Did you get my email the other day?” she asked, eyes wide and hopeful.
“What email?”
“I sent you a link to an article. It’s about a politician I like. I thought you might find it interesting, because you used to be so fascinated with that sort of stuff.”
I nodded slowly. “Oh, that. I got it, but I didn’t have time to look at it yet. Sorry.”
Mom’s shoulders sagged, and she briefly looked down at the floor. “It’s fine. I know how busy you get with work. I just thought you might like it, that’s all.”
The look of defeat on her face sent an arrow of guilt straight to my heart. “I’ll try to read it later.”
Her face brightened again. “All right. Let me know what you think,” she replied before smothering a yawn. “Anyway, I desperately need a coffee. Say hi to Willow for me.”
“Will do.”
When I finally reached the double doors that led into my and Willow’s suite, I motioned for Mal to unlock them for me before quietly stepping inside.
The room was completely silent. Willow lay in a motionless lump on the bed, tucked all the way under the thick blankets.
With a heavy sigh, I sat on the other side of the bed and pulled the duvet away. Willow’s face was blank, and her eyes had frozen over, robbed of their usual fiery passion. The pillowcase beneath her head was damp and stained with mascara. She must’ve cried all night before the numbness took over.
I sat there quietly for what felt like an eternity, not knowing what to do or how to express all the things I wanted to say to her.
How the hell was I supposed to tell this girl the truth about something I couldn’t even work out for myself? If it didn’t make any sense to me, there was no way I could make her see sense in it either.
“I didn’t do it,” I finally said.
Willow remained still and silent, like I wasn’t even here.
“Hey,” I said, gently shaking her left shoulder. “Jared’s fine. Nothing’s going to happen to him.”
She blinked. “What?” she said in a croaky murmur.
“I said your brother is fine. Nothing is going to happen to him. I made the whole thing up.”
Willow sat bolt upright, eyes wide. “You didn’t call Frank?”
“No. I just pretended to do it,” I muttered. “I’m not proud of it, but that’s what happened.”
She slowly shook her head, brows pinching together. “Is this some sort of sick joke?”
“No. I’m serious.”
Her eyes came alive again, blazing with rage. She let out a strangled cry and started pummeling on my chest with her little fists. “Why would you do that to me? Why?” she shrieked, tears leaking down her face. “You let me think you were going to kill him! You locked me in here and let me fucking cry all night, knowing I couldn’t stop it!”
“I know.” I lifted my palms and let her take her emotions out on my chest. I deserved it.
“How could you?” she asked, voice cracking. “How could you do something so horrible?”
“I was fucking pissed at you,” I muttered. “I wanted to hurt you. Teach you a lesson. But I took it too far. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” Willow’s eyes widened with incredulity, and she shook her head and scrubbed a hand across her face. “I don’t get it. You’ve been holding this threat over my head for months. Now suddenly you feel bad about it? Suddenly you’re sorry?”
“I know how it sounds. But it’s off the table now, okay?”
“What is?”
“This shit with Jared. I won’t hurt him, no matter what. I won’t hold that over your head anymore.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, shaking her head again. She sniffed and wiped her tearstained cheeks. "This is another game.”
“I understand why you think that, but it’s not.”
“Really? Why would you change your mind after all this time?” she asked, voice rising again.
I cleared my throat and shifted in my spot. “Because you were right last night.”
She gaped at me. “About what?”
“How I feel about you. You were right about all of it.” I looked away. “I want to hate you. I wish I did. But I don’t anymore. I can’t.”
“Why?” Willow’s eyes were like saucers now.
“I wish I fucking knew,” I said, shoulders stiffening. “Trust me, things would be a lot easier if it wasn’t like this.”
“Easier for you, you mean, because you could torment me without guilt.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Tears started streaming down her cheeks again, and her face crumpled. I couldn’t resist sliding my arms around her and letting her rest her head against my chest. “I’m sorry,” I murmu
red.
She sniffed and swallowed hard, face pressed against me. “You might not hate me, but I hate you,” she whispered. “At least… I should.”
“I know.” I stroked her hair, softly and slowly.
“I just hate the way you make me feel,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not good for me.”
“I know.”
She dissolved into quaking sobs again. I kept patting her head, still hating myself for caring so much.
Willow finally pulled away from my arms and leaned back against the bedhead. She licked her cracked lips and looked down at the duvet, going completely silent for a long moment. Then she looked back up at me, face pale and eyes wide. “So what happens now?” she asked softly.
I twisted my fingers together. “I don’t know. But you were right about us needing to find a way to get along. We can’t keep going like this.”
“I know,” she said. “But how? We’ve tried, and it just gets worse and worse.”
“My mother suggested I try to find some way to forgive you for the past,” I said, brows furrowing. “But I can’t do that. I just can’t. And I know you’ll never forgive me for the things I’ve done to you, either.”
Her lips tightened, and she wiped her cheeks. “Probably not.” She went quiet again, a frown pulling her brows together, and then she looked up. “But… I might have an idea.”
“What?”
“What if we help each other with a few things we want or need? We might not forgive each other, but it’s still a start to getting along, right?”
I frowned. “What could you possibly help me with?”
She looked down at her lap again. “Chloe,” she murmured.
My body went rigid. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Willow held her palms up. “Please, just hear me out before you get mad again,” she said. “You know how I don’t actually remember hitting Chloe? Or any of that night?”
“Yes.” My lips flattened into a tight line.
“Something’s happened to me a couple of times recently. The first time was a few weeks ago. I was thinking about the whole thing, and there was suddenly a flash in my mind.”
“A flash?”
“I don’t really know how else to explain it. It was like a memory fragment, I guess. As if I was suddenly there again. I saw the road and Chloe, clear as day in front of my eyes, but only for a split-second.”
“And?”
“I think that means the memories are still in here,” she said, tapping her head with one finger. “I just need to find a way to get them out.”
“How would that help me?”
Willow gnawed at the inside of her cheek before replying. “All these years, you knew what I did, but you never knew why. If I remember everything and tell you about it, you’ll finally have the answer. I know that won’t lead to forgiveness, but it could be like closure, right? Because you’ll finally know why I did it.”
I nodded slowly. She was right. That question had haunted me for years. Why? What made someone like Willow suddenly decide to hit another girl and leave her for dead?
“Okay, I get what you’re saying,” I replied. “But how would this work?”
“Like I said, the memories are obviously still in my head somewhere. I just need to find a way to access them. I’m willing to try if that’s what you want,” Willow replied.
“I do want that.”
She rubbed the back of her neck and frowned. “Well, maybe you could let me see the therapist who used to treat my anxiety. Dr. Monroe. Or we could even ask Myla for help.”
I lifted my brows. “Myla?”
“She’s that domme I met when you first brought me here. The one who was with Ackerman at the party last night.”
“Oh, her. How could she help?”
“She used to be a psychotherapist in New York.”
“Huh, okay. I had no idea.”
“If I start having sessions with someone like that, I might eventually regain all my memories from that night. Like I said, I know you won’t forgive me for what I did, but at least we’ll finally know why I did it. It won’t keep you up at night anymore. All the wondering, that is.”
“Could you speak to your mother about it too?” I said. “Seeing as we’re pretty sure she helped cover the whole thing up after you called her for help that night.”
Willow bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “Do you really think she wants to talk to me right now?” she said. “After all the trouble I’ve caused for her lately, I’ll be lucky to get a simple ‘hello’ out of her over the next few months.”
I grimaced. “Good point. Maybe one day, huh?”
“Yeah. Maybe,” she said, picking at a thread on the blanket.
I cleared my throat. “What do you want in return for doing this?” I asked.
She dropped the thread. “I don’t suppose you’d let me out of the contract and let me go?”
“You know I can’t do that.”
She sighed. “Yeah. I figured it was worth a shot, though.” She chewed on her lip for another moment and played with the blanket again. “Okay. I know what I want.”
“What?”
“Once a week, I want to be able to see family members or friends without you there.”
“I can’t let you do that right now. With all the shit that’s happening with your mom and the scandal, it’s not safe for you to go out.”
She held up a palm. “I know. But after it’s all died down, I want it.”
I nodded slowly. “Fine. Once a week. But you have to take a security detail with you, and you still have to wear the collar.”
“Okay. Deal.”
“Anything else you want?”
She nodded. “Yes, but it’s not really for me. It’s for your mom.”
I frowned. “What?”
“Remember how I was talking to her the other day?”
“Yeah.”
“She ended up telling me a few things about her life, and one thing really stuck out. She said she feels very distant from you.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“She feels like you don’t notice her, and I think she’s pretty sad about it. She’s worried you prefer your dad over her.”
“That’s insane.”
“I know. I told her that she’s definitely your favorite parent. But she said she’s still worried about it. She feels like you’re always too busy to listen to her. Like you’re nowhere near as close as you used to be.”
Guilt rocketed through my system again. I had no idea my mother felt so unappreciated. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Shit,” I muttered. “What can I do about it?”
“Just talk to her more. Help her with stuff,” Willow replied.
“Like what?”
Her brows furrowed. “Well, I told her she should work on her hobbies and follow her passions to make her feel like she has more of a life, and she told me she’s really interested in politics.”
I nodded. “Yeah, she always has been. It basically runs in her blood.”
“I know. Anyway, there’s some guy she likes, and she wants to get involved in his campaign. I told her she should do it.”
“Yeah, she should. She’d be great at something like that.”
“The thing is, she’s worried your dad won’t approve, and she’s also worried about doing it without you. She said she’d feel as if she were betraying you, because you used to be so interested in that sort of stuff when you were younger, and she promised you’d be a team.”
I scratched the side of my head. “Jesus. I wish she’d just talk to me about this stuff.”
“She said she’s tried,” Willow said softly.
I groaned, shoulders slumping. “For fuck’s sake...”
“You don’t think she has?”
“No, you’re right. She has, but I always brush her off. I always think there’ll be time to deal with it later.” I shook my head slowly. “It even happened earlier today. She
said she sent me an article about something she thought I’d like, and I said I was too busy for it. I felt bad, because I knew I might’ve offended her a little bit, but I had no idea I was making her feel so terrible.”
“I wouldn’t say she feels terrible. She just wants to spend more time with you, that’s all.”
I scraped a hand through my hair. “Fuck, I’m such an asshole.”
Willow’s lips curved into a thin smile. “Well, I won’t deny that, but I don’t think you’re a bad person when it comes to your family. You didn’t mean to ignore your mom. You’ve just been overly focused on other things. Like me and the whole Chloe situation.”
“I guess so.” I blew out a deep breath. “I’ll go and talk to her this afternoon. Who’s the guy she’s interested in campaigning for?"
“Jeremy Carlton.”
“Oh. I’ve heard of him. He’s actually pretty decent. But you’re right—Dad wouldn’t be happy about her getting involved with him.”
“I told her she can keep it a secret. He doesn’t have to know everything.”
“No shit. I can help her out with that,” I said. I cocked my head to one side, forehead scrunching up. “Why do you want me to do this, anyway? I don’t see how it helps you.”
Willow looked away and shrugged. “It doesn’t. I just thought it would be nice,” she replied. “Your mom has been really kind to me while I’ve been here, so it sucks seeing her upset.”
I leaned back. “Okay. So you want weekly visits with friends or family and for me to be nicer to my mom. Is that all?”
Her eyes darted back toward me. “There is one more thing,” she said. Her tone had turned timid again.
“Tell me.”
She swallowed hard and lifted her chin, squaring her jaw. “I want you to help my mom.”
My brows shot up. “What? How the hell could I help her? And why would I?”
Her lower lip trembled. “I really think she and Jamie are innocent, but the media won’t stop smearing them. I’m worried about what’s going to happen. Also, I feel like it’s my fault this stuff blew up in the first place, so I need to do something to fix it,” she said, words tumbling out a mile a minute. “You have more resources than me, because you work at Caldwell. You have access to a lot of information.”