Never Let Me Go

by McAvoy, J. J. ;

  “Ms. Thorne?”

  Exhaling, I sat on Alaric’s bed, placing my hand on my forehead. “Is there any way I can get the payment tomorrow morning? Please.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Thorne, we have a waiting list—”

  “Tomorrow you will have a certified check for the whole year,” I said quickly, and did my best to keep my voice steady…to sound like one of the preppy, happy moms. “There was a mix-up with our accounts, I’ll have someone drop it off tomorrow. Does nine a.m. work?”

  “If we don’t get it tomorrow…”

  “Perfect. Thank you so much, Mr. Mead, it will be in your office by nine a.m. tomorrow. Have a good day.”

  “You too, Ms. Thorne,” he said, and when he hung up, I fell over onto o Alaric’s bed, placing my hand over my face. I’d get enough to pay for the year, but about our place? Rent was due in three days, on top of that we still needed to get his uniform... And this is how I got stuck in this damn cycle, most of my funds I used to pay for Alaric’s medical bills. But now I had Lady L breathing down my neck. No matter how much I made, no matter how much I worked, I felt like I was throwing money into this bottomless pit. I was so damn tired.

  “Just give me a break,” I whispered… One break. How could I have no luck? How was it that one situation just led to another complicated one? I was tired!

  SPLASH!

  My eyes snapped back open, and I looked over at the bathroom door, hearing the rushing water and slash. Getting up off the bed, I walked in quickly to see his ears in bubbles, grinning to himself, water all over the floor, soaking his day clothes. He turned to look at me, and I stared at him. I lifted my hands, but before I could sign, he beat me to it.

  “Ten minutes! Please! I’m already in.” He clasped his hands together as if he were praying, which only made the bubbles move up around him… He laughed, and the sound of it took the little fight I had in me out.

  “You’re supposed to start with five minutes first,” I replied to him, and, grabbing the towel from the rack by the door, I put it down on the floor next to the tub before sitting on the toilet and turning off the tap.

  “Five minutes is too small,” he replied back to me and picked up his toys from under the tub.

  I knocked his head softly, and he put his hands to it and then back to me, making a face. I made a face back at him. “My mommies make the rules.”

  “Mommies break the rules too, you said no more chocolate at night and you eat it—”

  I reached over and began to tickle him, causing him to swarm and try to crawl away from me, laughing. Looking at him, the little bugger was already arguing back at me. When he broke free, I put got a wash cloth, wiping the soap from his face. He let me and then grinned at me. He was such a happy kid, his smiles and grins always made me feel much better… Like I wasn’t the worst mother in the world.

  “How much do I love you?” I asked him.

  He opened his arms as wide as he could, and I shook my head, opening my arms wider. He made another face and then replied, “That’s what I said.”

  “My arms are bigger.”

  “I thought this meant the whole world?” He asked.

  “Oh, right?” I pretended. “I love you so much it covers the world.”

  “Me too, mommy,” he said and picked up his toys again. I sat there watching him…and the more I did, the less tired I felt. I wanted to give him everything. I wanted to make sure he always stayed this happy.

  Grabbing another towel, I held it out to him, and he spun around in it. We walked back into his room. He picked out his own pajamas and dried his hair himself. He was growing up so quickly. In a few years I might be stressing about college next, and I couldn’t wait. Lifting the covers for him, he got in, along with his stuffed airplane, and lay down on the pillow. I sat on the side of the bed as he yawned.

  “Mommy,” he signed, his eyes already starting to drop. A warm bath and he always drifted off.

  “Yes?”

  “Daddy is still sick?”

  I froze, staring at his hands, and he looked up at me, waiting. My heart beat harder and harder, I could work and give him everything, but he didn’t want nor knew anything about that… He just wanted his father…the one thing in this world I wouldn’t be able to give him. But how could I tell him his father was gone? It had only been a year. He never even got a chance to meet him. I’d hoped, prayed, that someday Donovan would come back, not for me, I didn’t need him, but for our son. So, he could see him just once.

  “Yeah,” I whispered and nodded.

  He frowned and hugged onto his pillow tighter. I leaned down and kissed his head, it smelled like pomegranates.

  “Maybe if we visit he’ll get better soon,” he pressed.

  “We’ll see. Come on, sleep. I love you.”

  He nodded, and I waited until his eyes closed. I should just tell him he was gone. But I wanted to give him hope before, the same hope I had before… And now… Sitting up from the bed, I picked up his towel, and I walked back into the bathroom. Folding the towel and putting it away, I got on my knees and started to clean the tub. I fought back the dull ache inside of me and forced myself to think of all the positive things in my mind.

  Donovan used to say, Smile, can’t you see a miracle is right around the corner.

  No, Donovan… I can’t see it.

  DORIAN

  When I got inside the penthouse suite, I was greeted by nothing but darkness, the gentle glow of the fish tank the only light that radiated from the room.

  “I’ll check the room, sir,” Finnick said, already walking inside to check around the suite. Who he thought would follow me or wait for me was beyond me, but I didn’t argue. I didn’t have the energy.

  I walked inside, taking off my suit jacket and sitting down on the couch right before the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. I wanted to relax, but I didn’t know how, so I did what I always did and pulled out my tablet from my bag, looking to finish whatever hadn’t been done for the day. Goldie said she’d take care of it, but it was all I could do to calm myself.

  “Ms. Tate has already had your stuff brought into the suite as well as had stocked the kitchen—”

  “Unnecessary,” I whispered when he returned to me. “My goal is to make sure she no longer has anything hanging over her head. Hopeful she’ll let me be part of her son’s life.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “You can go for the night.”

  I didn’t have to look up when he left, the door beeping behind him. Rubbing my eyes, I got up, walking toward the kitchen. Once again, I found myself wishing I could drink, maybe take a smoke, but instead of all of that, I was tearing open two bags of Chamomile tea… If I was lucky, one cup would put me to sleep.

  This your life. My life. I work, I come back, drink tea, and go to sleep in order to go back to work again. I didn’t know what else to do. It felt like I was dying on the inside…

  Maybe I should bring my dogs? I thought, but remembered one of them was sick. Everything was dying on me apparently… Everyone but her. Taking my hot tea, I took out her photo… Luella. The woman my brother hurt. The woman who loved him anyway. The woman I couldn’t get out of mind even after a year. Was she still hurting, too? Would she let me into Alaric’s life? Did I have the right to ask? I didn’t know, but I was going to ask anyway because the silence…this loneliness was going to eat alive one day.

  This meeting with her tomorrow…was my chance.

  4

  Miracles I Don’t Deserve

  LUELLA

  Every part of me had been waxed.

  My hair was curled and makeup done.

  My stilettos clicked on the marble floor as I crossed the lobby of the Van Thorp Hotel. I looked at no one, rolling my briefcase behind me. I stopped at the elevator, and the man next to me stood straighter. I fought the urge to smirk. I couldn’t deny it felt good to know someone noticed me enough that they changed just because I was around them.

  “After you.”
He allowed me to enter first, then moved to the back of the car. Because of the reflection in the glass, I could see his eyes drift to my backside.

  I pressed the button for the penthouse. The Van Thorp was one of the most expensive hotels in the city, which meant everyone here operated one thing—money. It’s how they measured their self-worth. And for the man next to me, and the way his shoulders deflated like he had already given up, it was also his way to attract women.

  When he stepped out, he paused for a moment, obviously thinking about whether or not he should say anything. “I—”

  “Too slow,” I said as the doors closed on his face.

  After each floor, I could feel the internal battle I was having with myself growing. I needed not to be disgusted with myself. I needed to be strong and sexy and confident. A client didn’t care about personal problems, the reason they paid so much money was because they wanted every waking moment to be about them. They wanted to dump their problems on me and not the other way around.

  “Penthouse suite,” the elevator announced, and the doors opened, revealing two large double doors a few feet away.

  I checked my phone for the code again, but when I took a step closer, I realized the door was already open.

  You can do this, Lulu.

  “Hello?” I called out when I stepped inside. “Wow.”

  I’d been to the Van Thorp, but never the penthouse. In front of me was a small ceiling-to-floor window overlooking New York City. The interior of the room was classical but with a modern edge, done in tones of silver, white, and navy. A fire roared to the right. Taking off my jacket, I placed it on my suitcase and moved it to the corner before walking in more. To my left, there was a large round luxury aquarium filled with dozens of fish, both large and small, that went up to the second floor, the staircase wrapped around it. It was like architectural and interior design porn, I didn’t know where to look. I wandered over to the aquarium, and like a child, I put my hand on the glass. Tapping it once, they all swam away from me.

  “You scared them,” someone said behind me.

  Shit. I’d forgotten why I was here.

  “Sorry. I was a bit captivated—oh my God.” I gasped when I saw him standing across the room, deep blue eyes like the sea, thick dirty brown hair, strong jaw, long fingers, and broad shoulders. Just like I remembered.

  “Donovan?” I took a step away from him in disbelief, and my back pressed up against the glass. My heart started to race, and then my eyes watered.

  “I’m not him,” he said softly. “I’m Dorian, his twin brother. We met last year, remember?”

  I was in shock. I couldn’t remember what I ate that morning, let alone last year. He took a step toward me, and with nowhere to go, I just watched him.

  “You probably don’t recall, but the night after his wake, you came into the study and we—”

  “Fucked.” How could I have forgotten how he’d taken me against the bookcase and on the desk and in his room?

  “I wondered why back then. I realize now it was for my face. You wanted to be with my brother again, correct?”

  “You’re my client?” I asked, changing the subject and trying to regain my composure. “How did you find me?”

  Now that I knew he wasn’t Don, I could see the small differences between them, the first being the suit and how proper he stood, with pride and confidence. Don had lived in leather jackets, T-shirts, and jeans, not to mention he always slouched. Lastly, Don smiled. He could have hammered his own thumb and smiled through the pain.

  “Can we talk over dinner?” he asked.

  I didn’t want to. Looking at him hurt. It brought up too much for me, but I couldn’t just leave either. He was the client.

  I nodded, following him into the dining room, which also overlooked the city. He pulled out the chair beside his for me.

  “Thank you.” I put the napkin in my lap.

  “You’re welcome.” He took a seat.

  On the table was everything from lobster to soup, spread out like a feast.

  “I wasn’t sure what you would like, please eat as much or as little as you want.”

  “As little as I want?” I looked at him, but that was a horrible idea. The moment his eyes met mine, I glanced away and picked up my spoon.

  “I don’t want you to feel pressured to eat.”

  Translation: he was trying to be thoughtful?

  With a sigh, I accepted and focused on the soup. “You said you wanted to talk?”

  “Luella… Argh….” He put his elbows on the table. “I had this whole speech in my head. I practiced too. In fact, I can see it word for word in my mind, but I can’t say any of it. This is just awkward.”

  I nodded, forcing myself to look at him. “What exactly is awkward? The part where you bought me for the week or the part where you look identical to my ex-boyfriend? Or maybe it was when we slept together once. I can’t tell. Everything in me says to run.”

  He looked almost pained, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a black card, placing it in front of me.

  “I opened a line of credit for you. Whatever debts you have, pay them off at the end of the week with this, and if you like, you can go wherever the hell you want. If you prefer, I can have the funds deposited to your account.”

  I picked it up. Here was the one thing I had dreamed of: a break, a golden ticket, my get-out-of-hell card. And it bothered me to touch it for so many reasons. Because it automatically made me think danger. Nothing in this world was free. No one was kind for nothing. So that meant there were strings attached. I was a woman covered in enough strings as it was. I didn’t need him, too.

  “Why?” I asked slowly and softly. “Why in the hell do you want to help me? It can’t be because of Don. He said you weren’t on speaking terms.”

  I knew nothing about Don’s brother, other than that they were twins who'd been estranged for years.

  “My brother and I reconciled before he passed.” He reached for the glass of water, drinking it all like he’d just come from the desert. “In his final moments, he talked about you and the son…his son, whom he abandoned. He begged me to find you both, tell you he was sorry he hurt you so badly. My brother was sick, but what he did to you—”

  “I know.” I brushed away tears. “I knew he was sorry, and I knew he was sick. Not at first. At first, he was just Don, the hot guy who ordered a round of beer for everyone at Shameless. I was a waitress there after high school, saving up to go to culinary school. Don asked me out every day for a month, but I ignored him, part of me thought there was no way he could be interested in me. He was older, charming, the bad boy on the back of the Harley. One night, he had my boss call me in. No one was there but him and a table set for two. He said, ‘Lulu, when are you going to make an honest man outta me?’ I fell hook, line, and sinker. The first few months were heaven, and then—”

  “He started to drink more?” He finished, giving me a glass of water. “And you stayed.”

  “Yes and no. We broke up all the time. He’d chase after me, and I’d go back. We talked about his family and how alcohol ruined it, along with his self-loathing. He was able to fake being happy with everyone but me. I was so in love with him, how could I not go back? He was a mess, but he loved me and kept trying to get sober for my sake. I knew it wasn’t all his fault, and I didn’t want to leave him. Then I got pregnant, and when I told him, he told me to get rid of it. His exact words were, ‘Are you fucking insane? You want to bring a child into this fuck fest? You can barely take care of yourself, and look at me. Lulu, you would be doing that baby a favor. Spare it the misery of having to call us parents.’ I was so angry, I punched him and broke my knuckle on his damn jaw.”

  I tried to stop the damn tears, but they kept rolling down my face. He handed me a napkin, and I took it eagerly, wiping them away. When I looked at it again, I saw makeup smeared on it.

  “I must look like shit,” I laughed.

  “The furthest thing from it, actually.”

>   “Don’t be nice,” I replied, squeezing the napkin tightly. “You’re right. Even after he left me, took almost all my money, I still loved him. So, I went to your house in the Hamptons after seeing his obituary in the paper. I’d made all his favorite foods and begged a maid to let me into the kitchen. I wanted to say goodbye, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Everyone thought I was part of the staff. Then I saw you, and you looked so much like him. I took advantage of your grief and screwed you because I wanted him. Don’t be nice to me. I’m not a good person.”

  “You saved me,” he said, staring down at the food neither of us had eaten. “I was dying on the inside. I was so lost. Then you came to me, and I took out all my frustration on you…on your body. I used you, too, and I’ve always wanted to thank you directly.”

  “I…”

  “You…”

  We both tried to speak at the same time. Laughing, I shook my head and nodded for him to go first. “I’ve talked already anyway.”

  “Why did you miss him so much?” He asked, looking genuinely confused. “He had no money, I made sure of that, he probably barely worked, you loved him, and he took everything from you.”

  I really wished he hadn’t asked that, because I didn’t know how to answer without looking like an idiot.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “H-He was kind,” I said, hoping he didn’t notice how my voice cracked. “He had many flaws, but so did I. All my life I’ve been… I’ve met really horrible people. I learned when you aren’t a somebody, you’re nobody. I was nobody to everyone. I wasn’t needed by anyone. Then I met him, and he treated me like I was gold. He made me laugh, and he always wanted my attention. I felt good, and confident with him. I wasn’t alone. You have no idea how good it feels to wake up and know you aren’t alone. Someone loves you, needs you, wants you. It’s addictive.”