by Leah Holt
Opening the bathroom door, I stepped over everything the cops had discarded on the floor and stashed the diary under the mattress on my side of the bed.
For now I wasn't going to let Birch know I had it. I planned on taking my time, reading it again, allowing her messages to sink in with the hopes that it would ignite some flame in the back of my mind.
Making my way downstairs, I found Birch and his Dad in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess from the raid. “They really did a number in here, huh?” I asked, slipping into a chair at the table. “I don't remember it being this bad before.”
Grunting, Nick flashed his eyes at me over his shoulder. “They really wanted to find something today.” Turning back to the cupboard, he stacked the plates inside and closed the door. “Valentina would have shit herself if she saw it like this.” Chuckling lightly, he shifted against the counter and leaned back. “Remember that time she went off on that cop? When she got in his face and reamed him a new asshole for dumping her grandmother's silverware on the floor?”
Birch grinned and nodded his head. “I do. She did that thing with her eyes where they went all crazy, throwing her arms all around and shit.” Flicking his eyes to me, he smiled. “The guy actually picked them all up one by one as she gave him orders on where they went.”
“That's right, your mother knew how to throw her weight around.” Nick's face lit up, his eyes getting that twinkle I always see when he talks about her. “The good thing is they didn't find shit. It's not like they ever have, I don't know why they would think this time would be any different.”
“Are you sure about that?” I asked, keeping my eyes on my fingers as I picked at my nails.
Nick scoffed, going back to straightening up the counter. “Of course I am. Like we'd really be that stupid to keep anything involving those assholes in here. The fucking cop even had the balls to tell me that he expected to find them in here.” Shaking his head, he meticulously set the coffee pot and toaster back in their respective places.
“I wouldn't be so sure.” Instantly I wanted to shove my foot into my mouth. I shouldn't have said that, but it came out on its own.
Birch walked towards me, taking the seat at my side. “What do you mean? Did they say they found something? What do they know, Cyprus?”
Shrugging my shoulder, I couldn't look him in the eyes. “No, it's just that after what happened at the beach, how can you be so sure that they didn't find anything? There was a contract with Antoine's signature on it, there could be witnesses that saw us driving there or leaving. You don't know for sure what they know.” Slowly, I let my eyes flutter up to meet Birch's. “Maybe they found something you thought they never would.”
His brows dipped in hard, head tilting in wonder. Birch stared at me, questioning what the hell I could mean. His gaze began to shift around my body, as if he was looking for something.
A wire. . . He thinks I'm wearing a wire.
“I'm not tapped if that's what you're thinking.” Holding out my arms, I leaned back in the chair. “Go on, check if you want to.”
“What the fuck are you doing? Why are you talking like this then?” Drawing his thumb over his lip, he flicked his eyes between his father and me. “It's like you're a different person.”
“Oh yeah? Who do you think I am then?”
I wasn't sure exactly what I was trying to do. It was like I wanted to entice him to tell me, but I couldn't spit out the words I really wanted to use. My tongue refused to speak what my brain was telling it to.
Fear. Fear was the binding holding me stagnant. Fear of the truth, fear of the unknown, fear of losing everyone I loved all over again.
I just want to be wrong. Let all of this be wrong.
I wanted to think that maybe they had both been trying to protect me. Maybe it wasn't what I expected it to be at all. Maybe they found me with that diary and were trying to help me heal without reopening the wound.
His name is in there, you can't ignore that.
Fuck! Why the hell did this have to happen?
Why couldn't things have just stayed the way they were?
“What the hell is going on with you, Cyprus? I don't understand—”
“Birch,” Nick snapped, whipping around to face us. “Give the girl time to relax. Of course she isn't herself, she just went through hell with the cops. You got to let it settle. And they didn't find shit, we know better than to leave breadcrumbs for them to follow.”
Nibbling on my thumb, I looked between them. “Is that what you think? Do you think letting it settle is all I need?” Standing up quickly, I felt my eyes begin to tear. “Because right now I'm not sure what the hell I'm doing.” With heavy strides, I stomped to the sliding glass doors and tore them open.
I was a fucking mess and I knew it. I didn't want to be around either one of them right then. I couldn't be.
My mouth was about to go on a rampage of its own and I wasn't sure I'd be able to control it. I knew it wasn't fair for me to just jump down their throats. I wanted to take more time, read the diary over and over to see if my memory would return on its own.
I wanted my memories of the past and what happened. Even if they weren't good, even if they would change everything I had now, I wanted them.
No more lies, no more bull-shit painted with gold to lead me one way or another.
I didn't want to learn about who I was or what happened from someone else. I wanted to know it for myself, I wanted to see it for myself.
It was time.
Chapter Eleven
Birch
“Cyprus, wait!” Yelling, I jumped up from the table, ready to chase her out the door.
“Let her go, Birch,” my father barked, lunging forward to grab my arm. “Just let her go.”
Jerking my arm free, I glowered in anger. I felt my cheeks heat and my muscles tighten as we stared at each other.
I was angry with my father because all of this was his fault, and he couldn't fucking see it; either that or he was too stubborn to want to see it. He never listened to me when I told him he would regret everything we did. I wish he had.
Every single thing that was happening had been because of him and the choices he had made. I hadn't asked for any of this, this was the hand I was dealt. But he could have given her options, he could have done things so much differently. He didn't.
My father claimed it all came from someplace good, a place that was warm and full and didn't have any shadows like the world we lived in. He tried to tell me that he was giving her something better than what she already had, but who was he to judge?
I didn't need her to tell me what was bothering her, I already knew.
It was written all over her face, embedded into her body language and the distance she put between us. When I looked her in eyes as she sat at the table all I could see was sadness. Her gaze was flat and cold, lost in thoughts I hoped she would never have to experience.
But here we were, the silent battle raging in unspoken words and soundless gestures.
She fucking knows. . .
“Don't you see what's happening? Can't you get it through your thick skull that this isn't what you think it is? This has nothing to do with the police questioning her, it goes so much deeper.” Shaking my head, I chewed up my words and spit them in his face. “This is all because of you. I'm going after her, I won't let you stop me. Someone has to fix what you broke.”
His eyes crinkled, mouth twitching at the corners. He didn't speak, he stood stone still, hands opening and closing by his side. I thought he was going to hit me again, but he stepped back, nostrils flaring wide as he nodded his head with a light flick.
With firm strides I started for the door, only to be stopped in my tracks. “I know you love her, and I know she loves you. Hopefully she can forgive me, I never meant to hurt her.”
Looking back over my shoulder, my father's eyes had softened. The black globes that were normally there had turned gray, his shoulders rolled forward and his body slumped. I knew he felt wh
at he was saying. He might not ever speak the words out loud, but he knew that he fucked up all those years ago.
He tried to make up for it, he tried to give her as normal of a life as he could. He wanted her to start over, to escape and find solace with us. But that came at a cost, it came with thin emotions that were so brittle a single cough could snap them in half.
“Her forgiveness isn't up to me, Dad.”
I didn't wait for him to answer, and I didn't really care if she ever forgave him or not. All I wanted was for her to understand that despite what she knew now, I loved her, I've always loved her since the very beginning.
How I felt about her wasn't part of the scene we created. My feelings were real, I felt them in every inch of my being. I couldn't live without her.
The lie my father created had nothing to do with what we built together. I didn't pretend for all this time just to keep her close, I didn't fake these emotions to keep her thoughts from floating back into the past.
I loved her. It was that simple.
Searching the yard, she wasn't by the pool or my mom's flower garden. When we were growing up and Cyprus felt sad, she always gravitated to my mother's garden. I'd find her sitting in the flowers, staring up at the sky, her cheeks cloaked in the sadness my father created.
And I never said a fucking word to her. I'm such an asshole!
She had told me once that it made her feel like she was being hugged by her birth mother. She couldn't explain why, all she could say was that it felt like her mother's arms were the petals, soothing her skin.
Scanning the trees, the thought crossed my mind that she might have gone out to the pond. It was quiet there, a good place to collect your thoughts and ground yourself again when it felt like the world was spinning on its axis, trying to throw you off.
“Cyprus!” calling out, I followed the game trail through the thick trees, listening for her.
Where the hell is she?
She couldn't have gotten that far. The woods around our home were thick and dense, you had to stay on the path or they'd gobble you up. Then it hit me, and I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it to begin with.
Shit, I know where she is.
With tender feet, I crunched through the leaves and debris, doing my best to not be too loud. There was no doubt she knew I was coming and would find her eventually, but I didn't want to scare her off.
Rounding a few thick trees, I stopped and breathed a sigh of relief. Cyprus was sitting on the ground, running her hands over the earth around her thighs.
“Figured you'd find me here at some point,” she said with her back to me. “What do you want?”
“I'm surprised you stayed then.” Walking to her side, I sat down beside her, cupping my hands in my lap. “Why didn't you run when you heard me coming?”
Her face hung low, chin dipping into her chest. “I don't want to run, I want to learn.”
“What do you want, Cyprus? What do you want me to say?”
Her head twisted side to side, lips turning down. “I don't want you to say anything.”
Letting out a deep breath, I tipped my head back to look up at the sky. “Tell me what you know. What did they say to you?”
“Birch, don't.”
“Why? Why won't you tell me? If I knew then I could—”
“You can't do anything. I need to figure it out for myself.” Her eyes finally came up to mine, and for the first time since we came home I finally felt like she was going to be honest with me. “I want to learn on my own, I want to see it on my own. I need my memories. That's the only thing that will help right now.”
I understood what she meant when she said it. For so many years she knew nothing, but she knew it was stored someplace inside her head. She had told me that she felt like her brain was on mute, and she wished there was a button to turn everything back on.
It hurt me to know that I had the answers she needed and couldn't give them to her. I almost had several times, when I found her crying alone, filled with so much pain. I just couldn't do it.
When I was younger I kept it in because my father told me I had to, but as we got older, I did it because I had lost the strength to expose him for what he had done. She was happy to have our family, for all the wrongs, my father had done what he set out to do. He gave her her life back.
It wasn't just her relationship with him that kept me from telling her. I didn't tell her because I was scared she'd run away, that she would leave if she knew the truth. The thought of her leaving, that cut me deep.
And then one day it all stopped. Cyprus stopped crying over the family she couldn't find, she stopped questioning her past. I thought that maybe she had finally given up, that the prison her memories were encased in had ultimately locked its doors for good.
I was wrong. I don't think it ever really went away, it went dormant, waiting idly by for the perfect moment to spring back.
My only worry now was what she felt about me. I didn't want her to doubt us or to fall out of love with me. . . because we were real.
Besides keeping my father's secret, everything else we shared was the truth. My feelings, my fears, the laughs and arguments; all of it.
“You know I love you, right?” Picking up a small bushel of pine needles, I started plucking them free one by one. “I really do love you.”
“I don't know what to believe right now.” Blinking slowly, her brows folded as her eyes searched mine. “There's so much that's still missing, and so much that's been put in its place.”
“Why did you come here?” I asked, dropping the bushel and resting back on my palms.
Cyprus looked around, stopping at the tree we had told her I had found her under years ago. “Because this is where it started. This was where I met you for the first time, this was where my memories began and ended all in the same breath.”
My heart pounded with her words, taking me back to that day, that moment, the instant her eyes opened wide and her new life began. All I ever wanted to do was save her.
I wanted to save her then and I wanted to save her now.
“Do you think knowing the truth will really help you?”
“Yes. Why the hell wouldn't it? Wouldn't you want to know?”
Shrugging my shoulder, I shifted on the ground and scooted closer to her. “I don't know, maybe. I guess I just don't understand what you think you'll gain from knowing. What if what you learn hurts you more? How will you feel then?”
“I'm already broken.” Lowering her lids, Cyprus pursed her lips. “How much worse could it get, Birch?”
How the hell do I answer that?
“Do you want me to tell you the truth or what you want to hear?”
Glaring, her mouth snarled, cheeks flushing crimson. “Fuck you.” Grabbing a handful of dirt, she threw it in my face. “Fuck you!” Screaming at the top of her lungs, she started to stand.
Her hands dug into the ground, fingers stabbing the earth like spikes. She had made it to her knees, wobbling as she started to cry and gasp for air.
I knew she was trying to run, that she wanted nothing more than to be as far away from me as possible.
“I didn't say that to upset you, I swear.” Lunging forward, I snagged her forearm and held her steady so she didn't fall. “I would never hurt you purposely.”
Whipping her face in my direction, tears streamed down her cheeks, falling like heavy raindrops to the forest floor. “It's a little too late for that, don't you think?”
“No, it's never too late to fix mistakes. Not for us, not for what we have. What we have is real, Cyprus, we were meant to find each other.” Holding her tight, I kept her in place, refusing to let her go.
I wasn't going to lose the best thing to ever walk into my life because of something my father had done. Decisions were made, choices that could never be taken back. But we had found each other, that was all that mattered to me.
“Let me go, Birch.” Her small fist balled tight, arm tense and locked in place. “I just want to go.�
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“Do you love me? Do you still feel it like I do?” Searching her eyes, my heart stopped beating while I waited for her to answer.
Fuck she still looked so beautiful even in her rage and sadness. Her lips were puffed up as she took in ragged painful breaths. The small freckles across her nose began to disappear as her skin flushed bright red, and her nostrils flared.
“I love what we had, I loved the man I thought I knew. But now I'm stuck wondering where the lies end and the truth begins.”
“How can you say that? Can't you feel it? Don't you feel it?” My voice begged her to listen to her heart, to what we shared and felt.
I knew it was still there, it wasn't gone. There was no way that the love we experienced could just vanish in a day. It wasn't possible, what we had was too strong for that.
Right?
Even if she doubted what her past was made of, she had to know that our love came from someplace whole.
“I feel betrayed, I feel like my entire life has been a goddamn lie.” Thinning her lips, her teeth clenched as years of pent up anger fed her words. “I feel like the man I thought I trusted fed me bullshit as easily as he fed me dinner. What I feel hurts more than I think you could ever realize.”
Lifting my hand to her cheek, I brushed her skin, wiping away the tears she continued to cry. “I love you, that's not a lie, and it's never been a lie.”
Leaning in, I attempted to kiss her, but she turned her face so I couldn't. “Don't. I can't do this right now. I can't take the idea that you spent all these years lying to my face.”
“Tell me what you know, just tell me so I can make this right.” Holding her chin firmly in my hands, I forced her to look at me. “I want to make this right.”
Just tell me what you know!
“Don't fucking give me that shit.” Shoving my hand away, Cyprus pushed herself off the ground and rose to her feet. Her arms flailed in the air, waving erratically. “You knew! You knew and you chose to say nothing!”
Holding out my hands, I didn't get up. I wanted her to have this moment, to feel like she had some form of control. She needed that, she needed to stand on the pedestal and let the world hear her cries.