by Kira Blakely
“And he sent me, didn’t he?” I place my hand over my chest, which suddenly feels tight. “Well, he made me think it was my idea but he was actually grooming me for it all along.”
“I’m sorry, Abby, but hey, Grant ended up falling in love with you, too, so it doesn’t matter, right?”
I don’t answer. The end justifies the means just doesn’t cut it right now.
“Abby?”
“I’ll talk to you soon,” I say, not feeling like talking anymore. “Thanks. Bye.”
“A—”
I hang up, dropping the phone on the carpet as I bury my face in my arms.
I knew it. Even so, I can’t believe it. Grant tricked me. He did try to use me just like he used the mother of that maid, all those other maids, and all those women before me. Just like all those men used my mother.
Suddenly, the memories of that first week I came to work for him rush back. No wonder he was acting all weird then. He was desperate to make me fall in love with him. And then I turned him down and he took a different approach, making me believe first that he was in love with me.
And I fell.
I fell in love with him.
I fell into his trap.
I throw my head against the edge of the bed, running my hands across the sides of my face.
How could I have been so blind?
But he fell in love with you, too. He fell into his own trap.
Did he?
Just then, I hear a beep from Grant’s laptop on the table, letting me know that he has a new email. Since I manage his emails, I have access to his account. Out of habit, I check what came in, my eyes growing wide and my heart seemingly shrinking as I open one attachment of the message after another, all of them files of different women between twenty-two and thirty, all of them beautiful and from rich families.
Each click feels like a piece of my heart falling off until finally, when I’m done, there’s nothing left.
There’s nothing left of me.
Grant doesn’t love me. He used me and now that I’ve fulfilled my purpose, he’s looking for the next target, already having files on the candidates.
Just like he had a file on me.
For a while, I don’t move, frozen in front of the computer as my tears fall on the keyboard. Then, like a racer who’s just realized the gun has gone off, my body jolts into action. In a blur, I change my clothes and gather my things. Not even bothering to make a goodbye note, I leave.
There’s no need for goodbye when something never really started.
I was just passing by.
And now, it’s time for me to go.
Chapter 12
Resolve
Grant
“Abby’s gone.”
The moment I entered the room, I felt something was wrong, the hotel bathroom slippers lying inches from each other on the floor and the robe a heap on the couch. Now, after searching the room and finding no sign of Abby or any of her things, I know what’s wrong or rather, what’s missing.
Abby.
She left. In a hurry. And judging from the pile of used tissue in the garbage can, she was upset. Since the phone receiver was on the floor, it must have something to do with that last conversation she had.
The question is… who was she talking to?
“I should have stayed at the hotel,” Roger says, frowning.
I shake my head, looking at the handset in my hand. “Something tells me you wouldn’t have been able to keep her from leaving.”
I press the redial button, my jaw clenching when I see an overseas number on the small screen. And not just any overseas number.
Lindsey’s.
My jaw clenches. I thought something was bothering her. I thought it was just something that had happened at the mansion. I should have known it was something else. I should have known a smart woman like her would not be kept in the dark forever.
Not that I was planning to keep her in the dark forever. I was going to tell her someday when it no longer mattered, when we’ve been together for a long time, when I’ve become more certain that I wasn’t going to lose her.
And now, I’ve lost her.
I toss the phone on the bed and take mine out from my pocket, calling her.
“The number you are dialing is…”
I end the call then go over to the table where my laptop is, thinking of getting information on which plane she’s trying to get on in hopes of catching her before she’s on it.
In front of the table, I pause.
Wasn’t the lid of my laptop open earlier?
Lifting the lid, I see the wet drop on the keyboard. A tear. Quickly, I open the minimized window, feeling like throwing the mouse in my hand when I realize that it’s the message from my grandfather, the one with all the profiles of the women he wanted me to choose from for my wife.
“Fuck.” I beat my fist against the table, ignoring the pain.
“Fuck is right,” Roger says as he looks at my screen. “Your grandfather sure has a knack for complicating things, doesn’t he?”
“I’ll go after her.” I head toward the door. “I’ll go to Heathrow and look for her. I’ll pay people to help me find her if I have to.”
“Grant, wait.” Roger places a firm hand on my shoulder. “I know you want to make things right, and I really hope you do but you can’t do it right now.”
I turn around to face him. “Why not?”
“Because there’s something more important you should do.” Roger points to the screen of my laptop. “Even if you talk to Abby now, it won’t change the fact that your grandfather still wants you to marry someone of his choosing, which means the two of you still can’t be together. If you’re going to chase after Abby, you have to make sure first that nothing will get in your way.”
“What are you suggesting? That I talk to Grandfather? There’s nothing for us to talk about. I’m not going to marry someone he chooses for me.”
“But if you don’t, he’ll disown you,” Roger reminds me.
“Then let him disown me.” I turn toward the door. “He never thought of me as his grandson anyway.”
“And what about your promise to your mother?”
I stop in my tracks.
“You did promise her that you weren’t going to turn your back on your grandfather, didn’t you?”
I clench my shaking hands into fists, remembering when she lay on the hospital bed, a few days before her death.
“I know your grandfather is selfish and proud. I know that better than anyone. But he did have a heart once. He loved me once, and he was kind and happy then. I can’t win back that love anymore but you can. Promise me that you’ll try. That you won’t let him die cold and lonely. Only you, Grant, can undo what I have done.”
And I did promise her. I gave her my word that I’d try.
If Grandfather disowns me, I’ll never have the chance to fulfill my promise. But what should I do? If I follow my grandfather’s wishes, I’ll never see Abby again. I’ll never be with her again.
“Fuck!”
I bow my head in anguish, beating my fists against the wall.
If only I knew what my mother was asking of me then, I wouldn’t have made that promise. I can’t turn back time, though, and she’s gone, which means I can’t ask her to release me from my promise, from this sentence to a lifetime of suffering.
Mom, how do I get out of this mess you got me into?
***
I ask her that question again as I visit her grave the next day, a bouquet of white roses in my hand.
I didn’t sleep all night, knowing that each moment, Abby was getting farther and farther away from my reach. I wanted to chase after Abby but I couldn’t just yet. I’ve tried to think of a way to resolve my dilemma but I couldn’t. I know how stubborn Grandfather is. He only let me start my own company because it was my mother’s wish. I know he’s angry that my company is succeeding and so he wants to ruin my happiness. He can never stand seeing anyone happy.
&n
bsp; He was kind and happy then.
In truth, I do feel sorry for him. And I want him to acknowledge me, to be proud of me. That’s one reason why I wanted for my company to succeed so badly. Yet, he’s asking too much of me now.
“You do understand, don’t you, Mom?”
She doesn’t answer, of course, and I have to try and think of what she’d say if she was still alive.
What would she say? What would she do?
I can’t think, though. We barely saw each other before she got sick. I don’t even remember what she looked like then. I only got to know her after, and she only spoke of sad things then, and she hardly did anything.
“What should I do, Mom?”
Kneeling, I place the bouquet on her grave and as I do, I notice the small words written at the bottom of her tombstone. I almost forgot they were there since the print was small and the blades of grass obscured the words. No doubt that was my grandfather’s intention since he didn’t want those words in there.
I’ve known love and so I’ve lived.
At that moment, I remember the picture my Mom was clutching when she died – a picture of her and my father, their only picture.
Right. That was how everything began – her falling in love and marrying the man she loved against her father’s wishes. If he hadn’t died in an accident shortly after my birth, she would have lived with him and been completely happy. It’s tragic that she didn’t get the chance. Even so, it doesn’t change the fact that she fought for love and until the end. She did not regret it.
She loved until the very end.
If she was here right now, she’d probably laugh at how we both ended up in the same situation but proudly say that’s proof that I’m her son. Then she’d give me a hug and say, “To hell with your grandfather. You can’t help who you love,” and other things someone told her when she was fighting for love.
True, she told me to undo what she had done but I doubt she’d approve of that if the cost was love.
Love is her greatest legacy, after all.
Love.
Funny. I’ve been so hesitant to use that word before, thinking I didn’t know it and now, I’m throwing it around.
Which probably means it’s true.
I love Abby, and I’m going to fight for her even if it means going against Grandfather. I’m not just going to let him disown me, though. I’m going to talk to him. He probably won’t listen but I still have to try.
That’s what I promised my mother – that I’d try.
“I’ll try my best, Mom.”
I press my fingers to my lips, run them over her name on the tombstone and get up to leave, determination buzzing in my veins.
I’m not going to undo what my mother did because it wasn’t a mistake. I’m going to do what she didn’t get to do – talk some sense into Grandfather.
***
“No.” Grandfather shakes his head as he sets down his cup of tea on the matching saucer. “Your mother ruined her life. I’m not going to let you make the same mistake.”
“My mother did not ruin her life,” I tell him, sitting straight in the chair across him. “You did.”
Grandfather glares. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to, boy.”
“Oh, I know very well who I’m talking to.” I lean on one arm, tucking my hand under my chin. “I’m talking to a man who loved his daughter very much, who thought the world of her, who wanted to give her the world. He thought she was perfect. He thought she would belong to him forever, and when he found out he was wrong, he threw her away like a doll that was no longer needed.”
“I did not throw her away.” He leans forward, his eyes growing wide. “She turned her back on me. She chose your American father over me.”
“She chose her own happiness,” I point out. “Which she only did because you made her choose between her happiness and yours. And you punished her nearly all her life for it.”
Grandfather leans back in his chair, falling silent.
“But you know what? She never hated you. Do you know what was her greatest fear as she was dying? Not death. She was prepared for that. Not leaving me. She knew I could make it on my own. She was more afraid of you dying alone and unloved. That’s why she made me promise to try to keep that from happening.”
“Yet, here you are, practically begging for me to disown you.”
“I’m not.” I get out of my chair and kneel in front of his. “I don’t want to be disowned. In fact, I want nothing more than for you to look at me as your grandson. But I’m not going to choose that over my happiness, over the woman I love.”
Grandfather snorts, looking away. “Why do you want that woman so much? Your grandmother said she works for you and that she’s from some country in Asia.”
“From the Philippines,” I supply, standing up. “And I can’t tell you why I want her. I just do. I just know I want her bad enough to fight for her just like my mother fought for my father.”
“Why?” He stands up and moves away from him, hands in the air. “Why must you rebel against me like she did? And after all I’ve done for you?”
“You see, Grandfather. That’s your problem. You tried to give Mom and me everything in hopes that we’d love you back and do everything you wanted. You should have given us everything because you loved us, not because you wanted us to love you. In spite of that, we do care about you. We just don’t want to be your puppets. We’re your family, after all.”
Grandfather falls silent again, looking out the window with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m not asking you to love me as a grandson. As much as I want it, it’s not mine to ask. If there’s anything I learned, it’s that if you want someone to love you, all you can do is love them first. If they don’t love you back, there’s nothing you can do about it.” I move closer to him. “I’m asking you, though, to try and understand what I’m trying to do here. I’m not doing it to spite you or because I’m ungrateful or because I don’t care about you and your wishes. It has nothing to do with you. I’m doing it because it’s the only way for me to live my life, because I can’t live without her.”
He still says nothing.
“Mom said you had a heart once. I believe you still do. You say I’m making the same mistake my mother did. How about you, Grandfather? What will you do? Will you make the same mistake as well?”
He turns his head, looking at me. For a moment, he just looks at me, his expression vacant. Then he goes to his bed.
“I’m tired. Leave me alone.”
Well, at least he’s not telling me that he never wants to see me again. It’s a start.
“If that is what you want.” I head to the door, stopping just before I open it. “Thank you for listening, Grandfather.”
He doesn’t say another word. He doesn’t even look in my direction.
That’s fine. I’ve said all I’ve needed to say to him.
And now, I have to go to New York to talk to Abby.
***
“Go away, Grant. I don’t want to talk to you,” Abby says through the locked door of her apartment, leaving me standing in the hallway with all the presents I’ve brought for her. “There’s nothing left for us to talk about.”
I put down the paper bags I’m carrying and move closer to the door. “You know there is.”
“If it’s about my job, I quit. I’ll find another.”
“It’s not about your job, Abby, it’s about us.”
“There is no us. There never was. You tricked me.”
At that moment, the housewife from the next apartment comes out with her toddler on her hip, frowning at me.
I give her an apologetic smile, handing her one of the roses I have. She seems to appreciate it, sniffing it as she goes back into the apartment.
Good. I got rid of her. I don’t want to get anyone else’s attention, though.
I move my mouth closer to the door. “Could you please at least open the door, Abby, so that we don’t have to shout?”
There’s no response.
“Or we could just shout for everyone in the building to hear.”
She opens the door but just a crack, the bolt still on. She doesn’t show herself, either, and though I try hard to take a peek, I can’t see her.
“Are you going to talk or not?” Abby asks.
Well, at least I know she can hear me.
I lean on the doorframe and take a deep breath. “Abby, I’m sorry. I know what I tried to do. I know what I did. I asked Nathan to let you work for me, having done my research about you and thinking you’d be the best woman to convince Lindsey to change her mind. I seduced you. I tried to make you fall in love with me. But you know what? I fucked up. I fell in love with you, which wasn’t part of the plan, and that’s something I’ve never done before even though I’ve known a lot of women.”
“Really? Then why do you have files of other women in your inbox?”
“My grandfather sent those. He wanted me to choose a wife from them. I told him I wasn’t going to, though. I don’t care if he feels I’m letting him down like he felt my mother let him down. I’m not going to let myself down. Or you.”
“And what did he say?”
“Nothing.”
Abby falls silent.
“Abby?”
“You should go.”
I want to say more. I want to ask her why she can’t understand me. I want to stay here until she forgives me. I want to break down the bolt, barge into her apartment, and hug her so tight the broken pieces of her heart will fall back into place and then I’ll never let her go.
I don’t though. This is not about what I want. If she wants me to leave and give her some time and space, I’ll do that. I’ll step back for now.