Over the course of the next week, I find myself trying to make sense of what happened with Toby, and of how I let it get so bad. At times, revisiting those memories is agonizing. But I owe everyone an explanation. A reason… something. Sitting with Kit and telling her every little detail of my life with him makes me want to run again, but I don't. I sit, and I talk. And when I see Lexi the next morning, I don't run either. I sit… and I talk.
It's painful, but it's cathartic, too.
Neither Kit nor Lexi judges me. They don't blame me for what he did to me, and to my surprise, don't think less of me for it. They simply listen to my disjointed attempts to explain what Toby put me through, of why I never came back or told them how bad things were, and then they hug me again and tell me they're glad I'm home.
Maddi and I don't talk about it. She's too young, too innocent, and too heartbroken to hear what I would say to her. But I owe her an explanation anyway, a reason why I just disappeared from her life for two years. I give it to her the best I can as I push her on the old wooden swing tied to a tree beside the mansion.
"Why'd you stay away so long?" she asks, her bare feet trailing through the patch of sand exposed by countless years of dragging feet.
I sigh and brush my hand down her hair. "I wanted to find somewhere I belong." It's a simplistic explanation, but it's true. I just wanted to belong, to fit, to have a place. Toby offered me that, and I desperately wanted to believe him when he said things like "you belong with me" or "I'll take care of you." It seemed so simple then, so easy to climb on back of his motorcycle and then get on that plane with him.
In hindsight, there was nothing simple about it.
"Flight 814 to Chicago will begin boarding momentarily," a female ticket agent announces over the intercom as I stare out at the tarmac.
My heart thumps in my chest at her announcement and my hands shake. I ball them into fists and shove them into the pockets of my hoodie.
"You belong with me," Toby whispers from directly behind me as if he's sensed my nerves. His breath stirs the hair on my neck and I shiver. His words are steadying, like a deeply embedded tree root you cling to on your way over a cliff. I want so badly to believe him. "You don't belong here."
"I know," I respond, swallowing back the lump that instantly rises in my throat at his reminder of where I don't belong. Here… with Kit and Lexi, Maddi, and Matthew. I love them so much, but I can't stay here. I can't be a charity case forever. I can't be lost forever.
Italy promises security in a way nothing else ever has. A place for me. Toby. School.
I turn to him. When his eyes meet mine, I say, "Leaving is the right thing."
"It is," he agrees.
I take a deep breath and force myself to believe it.
Ignoring the doubts I had then and getting on that plane wasn't simple at all, I realize now. It was terrifying, but I needed to believe him so I shoved all those questions down and went. I can't take that back now. For the rest of my life, I'll be the girl who listened to all the wrong things and went.
"Oh," Madeline says. A frown mars her face as I blink down at her. "Do you mean a spiritual journey kind of thing?"
I start to tell her no, but stop myself. How do I explain to a child who's lost so much and still shines brightly that I've never felt the sense of belonging and rightness that is so much a part of her world? She's devastated by loss now, but she will never have to question if she's loved, wanted, or needed. She's surrounded by those things and will always be secure in the knowledge that she has a family, a place, a home.
I don't begrudge her that. I just wish that I could be as assured, as confident. And I have no idea how to get to that place where I know I fit. Is it even possible to find it here, in this world of riches and balls? She's a princess. I'm Cinderella. Not the one who marries the prince, but the other one. The sad girl caught by the stroke of midnight, forced to flee from the ball in rags while the lies seducing her with promises of something better unwind around her.
I want to blame Toby for this, but the truth is, I was already broken.
That realization unravels a little bit of the security I've carved out of the last week and leaves me deflated and restless again. One step forward and two steps back. The story of my life.
"Yeah," I finally answer when the swing slows to a creaking halt, "a spiritual journey."
"Oh," Maddi says again, her brow wrinkled as she tries to work it out for herself. "My friend Chantelle wants to do that when she graduates. She says she's going to backpack through Europe, see where the road takes her, and find herself." She shudders. "It sounds awful."
Backpacking was never high on my list of things to do either so I say nothing and instead scuff at a stubborn, dying weed with the toe of my shoe. Madeline bounces up from the swing and turns to face me, her blue eyes searching my face.
I try to offer her a smile, but I'm not sure if I manage to succeed or not. My mind is a million miles away again, trying to work out answers that only bring more questions, more doubts. There are so many questions, and not nearly enough answers.
Eventually Maddi smiles sadly, as if she's seen more of my conflict than I want her to. "I don't know what happened while you were there or anything, but I'm sorry he hurt you. And I really missed you." She reaches out, squeezes my arm, and then walks away, her shoulders hunched.
I sink down into the swing she's vacated and watch her go. I want to call out and tell her… something – that I'm sorry I hurt her – but I don't. I don't know what to say or do to make up for the last two years, and I'm taken aback that she knows as much as she does. She's far too smart for her own good.
An hour later, I'm still twisting aimlessly on the swing when Jared appears beside me. I've almost gotten used to him appearing out of nowhere and nearly control the way my body jerks.
He notices it anyway and smirks at me.
"You never see me coming," he says, leaning back against the tree trunk and crossing his arms.
"You're very quiet."
He's wearing a white button down and has the sleeves rolled up his forearms. I focus on them, not quite ready to meet those jade eyes yet. The hair on his arms is baby fine and seems almost to shine in the waning sunlight. His skin is golden brown, his forearms corded with muscle.
"You really work at T.I. with Lexi?" I ask.
"Huh?" He sounds surprised by the question.
I nod my head in his direction. "You're not very pudgy."
My cheeks begin to flame half a second before he starts laughing at my statement.
I cannot believe I actually said that out loud!
He has his head thrown back while he laughs, and God, he's beautiful. My heart does an aching dive in my chest and I can't seem to force myself to move my gaze along. Instead, I stare at him.
The amusement dies from his expression when he notices. He tilts his head in my direction again. His laughter slows and then halts altogether.
Between one breath and the next, everything changes. There's no longer amusement and embarrassment running between us, but that same charge from last week. It snaps like a current between us, and I have to fight the urge to shiver.
He just stares at me, not saying anything, and I stare back. He has a tiny scar at the corner of his mouth, a nick from a razor that didn't heal perfectly. I've never even noticed it before, but I can't seem to look away now. The urge to reach out and run my finger across it flares.
"Um…." I stutter, needing desperately to pull back from this… whatever it is.
"So," he says at the same time.
We both laugh awkwardly.
He settles back against the tree again and motions for me to go ahead.
I don't really have anything to say, so I swallow what little pride I have left and head back toward the conversation my ridiculous comment abruptly ended. "What do you do at T.I.?"
I'm sure I should know this already, but I don't. I've been too caught up in my own thoughts to ask many questions. I resolve to change
that, starting here. I may not be able to fix my life or answer any of the thousand questions I have about my future, but at least I can get to know about his and Lexi's. Maddi and Kit's, too.
"I'm the CFO."
"The CFO?" My mouth falls open a little in surprise. "I thought Thad was the CFO."
"Thad retired last year, Savannah," Jared says.
"Oh." I guess he was nearing retirement age… twenty years ago. "I thought they'd have to carry him out in a body bag," I confess and instantly cringe. "I'm sorry. That came out all wrong."
"No," Jared laughs softly, "you're right. He was a workaholic. But his wife threatened to leave him for their attorney if he didn't resign, so he stepped down."
"And you stepped up," I murmur.
"And I stepped up," he confirms.
"Do you enjoy it?" I have a hard time imagining him as the Chief Financial Officer. He certainly has an air of authority and command about him, but CFO just seems so… stuffy. So rigid.
"It's challenging." His answer is honest but the words fall flat. He's hedging, saying what he thinks I want to hear. Being the CFO isn't a challenge he particularly wanted to tackle.
"Very convincing."
"Hmm?" He arches a brow at me.
"Ah, nothing," I hurry to say. He's been different this week, less angry. I really don't want to get him riled up again over something as ridiculous as whether or not he enjoys his job.
"When is Lexi being sworn in as the new CEO?"
"Officially? In two months. Unofficially, she's already handling most aspects of the job. She's been working alongside Matthew since she finished college, learning the ropes." He winces when he says Matthew's name.
"It's hard to believe he's really gone, isn't it?"
"Yeah." Regret flashes through Jared's eyes before he shakes his head back and forth. When he glances at me again, he appears so tired. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm holding," I answer. In truth, I haven't really even cried yet. I'm not even sure I will, and that seems so wrong to me. "It's so strange."
"How so?"
"I don't know." Running the toe of my shoe through the dirt, I try to work it out in my mind before putting my thoughts into words. "For a long time after I left, I'd wake up in the morning and expect to see his head bent over the paper at breakfast. Even though he'd never been in my apartment, it felt like he should have been. And when he wasn't, it hurt. Now that I'm here again, and he's really gone, it just feels…." I trail off with a sigh. I don't know how to explain it, honestly. It seems less real now, less painful. Like I grieved for him a long time ago.
"Ordinary," Jared murmurs.
"Yeah." My voice shakes a little. "It seem like it's just another day. How terrible does that make me?"
He holds my gaze for a long while, not saying anything. His expression is soft and hard at once, as if he understands exactly what I mean. Not just the guilt over not breaking down and sobbing my heart out because Matthew's gone, but the rest of it too. The fact that I said goodbye a long time ago. That I didn't even know something horrible was happening here. That I let Toby keep me from reaching out over and over again. All of it.
Jared pushes away from the tree and steps up beside me. "Nothing about you is terrible, Savannah." He lifts his hand and quickly brushes it across my cheek.
Little fires dance where his fingers touch.
His gaze tangles with mine again and the regret and guilt in those jade depths is probably an exact mirror of my own. He understands completely.
I wish he didn't, that he didn't have to.
Before I can respond to him, he's walking away again.
I clear my throat and call his name, determined to say something to ease his mind and make it a little better for him, too. He stops halfway to the mansion and turns back to me. The setting sun hits his head, causing a halo of light to surround him, and I have to squint to see his face.
He looks far away again, weary and weighed down.
"You're not terrible either," I say just loud enough for him to hear. "Not at all."
He dips his head once before he turns away again. He says nothing and I'm not sure he believes me, but I want him to. He's not terrible.
I barely know him, but as I watch him walk away, I realize that I do know one thing.
He would never hurt me like Toby did.
I realize something else too.
Those brief touches of his skin to mine aren't nearly enough.
Chapter Six: Can't Forget You
"This is ridiculous," I mutter to myself. I'm standing in the kitchen, staring out at the rain sheeting down outside the window. Thunder rumbles in the distance, though I've yet to see a single flash of lightning. I'm beyond annoyed. For the last week, it's rained on a daily basis and I'm tired of it. I miss the sun. I miss being able to sneak out of the mansion without getting soaked.
Hell, at this point, I miss shoes that aren't of the rain boot variety.
The entire week has been a study in frustration, and the rain isn't helping matters.
Lexi refuses to talk about whatever's bothering her, brushing off any attempt to find out with a forced laugh and a tight smile, which has Kit wringing her hands. Madeline refuses to budge on the issue of returning to school, screaming that she isn't ready any time the subject is brought up, which has everyone at a complete loss.
And if that didn't already have me ready to scream, avoiding Jared is making me crazy. I don't even know why I'm avoiding him. Because I like him. Because I can't like him. Because I don't know what the hell I'm doing.
"Dammit," I huff, scrubbing my hands across my face. It doesn't help, of course. I feel completely out of sync with everything, a buoy adrift in raging seas.
Laying my forehead against the cool glass, I sigh.
What am I doing here?
Things are bad all around and I have no clue what to do to help. I don't even know if I can help. The girls just lost their father, for God's sake. Rubbing Kit's back or playing with Madeline's hair until she cries herself to sleep doesn't seem adequate.
Nothing does.
Why the hell am I here?
I'm standing at the window, staring out at the city beyond. I'm trapped here, suffocating. It's been over a week since I woke up and I still don't know when I'll get to leave. The doctor keeps telling me I need time to heal. He says it so much, I've begun to suspect it's the first English he learned.
Every time he says it, I just nod. I don't really want to explain to him that time doesn't heal all wounds. It doesn't fix what's broken, or make it hurt any less. Toby hasn't come to see me once. Neither has Laney. They're the only two people I know in Italy, and they've betrayed and abandoned me to the tender mercies of a hospital staff speaking a language I barely understand.
I just want out.
I press my fingers to the glass.
"Ms. Martin?"
I drop my hand and turn to find Dr. Allegretti standing in the doorway to my room. His lab coat is pristine. His hair has too much gel. His teeth are too white. But he always looks at me as if he understands what I'm going through.
That's almost worse than hearing him say I need time to heal.
How could he possibly understand when I don't?
I've spent the last two years of my life living under the thumb of a guy who slept with the only thing resembling a friend that I have in this country, and then dumped me off at the hospital and walked away. Said guy hasn't even called to see if I survived or not. Neither has said friend.
No, Dr. Allegretti doesn't understand that.
He can't.
God, why am I still here?
"I want to leave," I mutter when he crosses the threshold into my room.
He glances between me and the chart in his hand and then nods once. "Maybe tomorrow."
Maybe tomorrow. Right. He's said that every day this week.
I turn back to the window and the city beyond.
Even if he does discharge me, I have nowhere to go.
&n
bsp; Nowhere at all.
I squeeze my eyes closed to block out the memories. I know why I'm here, but that doesn't really help settle me any. I feel useless. Guilty. Confused. It shouldn't be this hard to get it together, figure out what to do, and then do it. But some days, it's completely impossible. I'm weighed down with worry, and there's nothing I can do to ease any of it.
I can't help the girls cope.
I can't tell them everything will be okay.
I can't even help myself or tell myself it will be okay. My insides are shredded, completely gutted. Toby's out of my life, and I'm beyond relieved… so why can't I breathe? Or relax? Why am I still looking over my shoulder? Still waking up in a cold sweat, thinking he's here, screaming at me again? Why do I feel like I'm falling apart?
What is wrong with me?
I turn away from the window and jump when I see Lexi standing behind me.
"Lexi," I gasp, clutching a hand over my racing heart. "You scared me."
"I'm sorry." She offers me a halfhearted smile, practically fidgeting where she stands in six inch heels. She's dressed in a long, stunning blue gown and matching wrap, her hair swept up in soft curls. She's beautiful, absolutely perfect for Jared.
Guilt gnaws at me the instant I think his name, twisting in my stomach until I want to gag.
"What's up?" I ask, trying to push through the sensation and smile.
"I just wanted to let you know that Jared and I have to go to this function in Daddy's honor tonight. Would you mind staying in the main house with Kit and Maddi until we get home?"
Jared won't be here.
"Of course," I agree, barely containing a relieved sigh.
"Thanks." Lexi smiles again and readjusts her shawl. "You have our cell numbers, right?"
I nod. They're already programmed into the phone Jared gave me.
"I'll make sure he sets the security alarm and Stewart closes the gates before we leave. We're only a few minutes away, so call if you need anything."
"We'll be okay," I promise her.
Her smile slips. She readjusts the shawl carefully, avoiding my gaze. I want to beg her to just tell me what's going on with her, but I might actually scream if she tells me it's nothing like she keeps telling Kit. I keep my mouth shut instead, and she grimaces.
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