John,
I don’t know where to begin. If you’ve received this letter then you’re at least considering working for Rawlings Industries. You should know that I had nothing to do with this job offer. It is not like the last time. I have no excuse for what I did in the past, but I do have an explanation.
I saw you as a threat—which I hope you know is a compliment. I’d followed your career and knew all about you. From your modest roots to your Midwest education, I saw how you took what I honestly believed to be a mediocre beginning and turned it into success. Your record was impeccable. Before meeting you, I knew you were a force with which to be reckoned.
That said, I did what I do. I decided to capitalize on your ability and at the same time create a situation in which you would be indebted to me. At the time, I didn’t consider Claire’s feelings. When she found out that I’d offered you the job, she was apprehensively pleased. She spoke about us living closer and being a family. All I could think about was having you under my control.
It’s no secret that I wasn’t happy with you at our wedding rehearsal when you didn’t give Claire away. At that moment, when I saw the anguish in Claire’s eyes, I was determined to stifle your paternal, protective instincts. Claire was no longer your concern. She was MY wife and your actions caused her anguish.
I said she was apprehensively pleased. The apprehension came because Claire was concerned that you’d refuse the offer. She told me it was a possibility. I didn’t give her concern credence, until you refused. After all, I, via Tom, had offered you so much more than you had in Albany. I was certain the money alone would entice you. However, as you know, Claire was right, and once again, you demonstrated that you were indeed a formidable opponent.
As I stated, that wasn’t meant as an excuse or even a feeble attempt at an apology. I believe we are beyond that.
You currently have guardianship of two of the most precious and important people in the world. The only reason that I have not fought harder to regain my rights regarding my wife and my daughter was that I knew I had a debt to pay. I’ve accepted that commitment and will pay what I owe. Once I am done, be forewarned I will fight for what is mine.
In the meantime, I have to believe that those protective instincts that I witnessed years ago, and loathed, have resurfaced. For peace of mind, I have to believe that the decisions you’re making in your life and for your family have my family’s best interest at heart. To that end, I want you to know that I welcome you at Rawlings Industries. My company is Claire’s company. One day it will be Nichol’s. I have the utmost faith in Tim. If he believes in you, I do too. I also want you to know that I will not interfere in his decisions regarding your employment. If you choose to work for him at Rawlings Industries, he will be whom you are working for.
I trust that you will take that arrogant, protective attitude that I hated and use it to better the lives of my wife and daughter, as well as the employees of Rawlings Industries. All of these people need what I will temporarily be unable to provide.
To that end, if you choose to do that in my absence, I thank you.
Anthony
Shaking his head, John placed the letter back into the envelope. He wasn’t sure what to think about his brother-in-law’s attempt to communicate. However, for the first time that John could remember, it didn’t seem manipulative or calculating. It seemed like—in Anthony’s own way—he was almost humbled. Before John could give it too much contemplation, Tim returned.
“Are you still considering my offer?” Tim asked with a grin.
Extending his hand, John said, “Yes, Tim, I’m considering it.”
John didn’t give Tim an answer the day they met or even the next week. He talked to Emily and to Amber. The prospect of practicing law again excited him more than he’d anticipated. Though he could accept the offer, he had his own legal hoops to jump through before he’d be licensed in Iowa. But that could be done, and when it came to SiJo, John believed he’d done all he could do. Since the incident, his heart hadn’t been in it. He was truthful when he told Amber that he believed she could find someone new to take the position further.
Did Anthony’s letter confess to being the person who set him up and took away his life? Not directly. Nevertheless, John chose not to share the letter with Emily. He knew she’d see manipulation and deceit in every word; however, during their discussions he explained that though Anthony was still part of Rawlings Industries, Tim was the one who wanted to hire him. Tim would be the one to whom John would report. Both he and Emily liked the prospect of being together again as a family, especially with Michael on the way. After much debate, John accepted Tim’s offer, resigned his position at SiJo, and moved to Iowa.
In the past five months, he and Emily added Michael to their family, purchased a home, and began a new life—again. It was true that every upheaval in their lives could be associated with Anthony Rawlings. Nevertheless, with time, it even surprised John that he could now say the word Rawlings without feeling the deep-seated hatred from before. He supposed that was because along the way, the meaning of the word had changed. Rawlings no longer solely represented the man: instead, it stood for the company, a part of Claire and Nichol.
Though it was undeniably Nichol and Claire’s last name, Emily had done her best to remove it from anything associated with Claire. John knew his wife meant well. She’d explained her stance many times. In her mind, Anthony was inarguably responsible for everything negative in Claire’s life. Not only was he responsible for the concussion she’d sustained while with him, but the injury she had in California. After all, she reasoned, Chester wouldn’t have been after Claire, if it weren’t for Anthony. Emily interpreted the doctors’ findings to say that Claire was suffering a psychotic break brought on by the TBI. She believed that by creating a stress-free, anti-Anthony environment, Claire could heal and recover. She forbade anything that would in any way remind her sister of her life over the past almost five years. Though Emily couldn’t legally have Rawlings removed from Claire’s name, she made it clear to everyone at Everwood that her sister was to only be addressed as Claire Nichols. Since Emily was her court-appointed guardian and was the one who paid the medical expenses—with Anthony’s money—her wishes were followed.
Arriving at the federal courthouse, John made his way to the grand jury chambers. John was glad that Catherine wasn’t present during this phase. He hadn’t spoken to her since the day in the hospital when she’d so brazenly lied to him and Jane. He shook his head at the mangled web of deceit. Could it be that she’d lied to Anthony, too?
Each day at Rawlings Industries tore a little of John’s hatred away and built his respect for the businessman in Anthony Rawlings. In the months of his recent employment, with Tim’s permission, John had scoured years and decades of records of acquisitions, employment, and dissolution of contracts. It was just as Tim had promised. The lies and sins of Anthony’s personal life had not transcended into his company.
John waited outside the grand jury chambers and thought about the lengthiness of the judicial procedure. This was only the grand jury phase. If the sixteen to twenty-three people inside the room decided there was enough evidence for a trial, then Catherine would finally be indicted. It had already been eight months since John and Emily had been locked in that suite. Although they’d only been held for a few hours, as he read about Claire’s days of seclusion, he could relate better than most.
He’d been subpoenaed to testify at 9:00 AM. Though the subpoena hadn’t specified what questions he would be asked, he suspected it was about the day at the estate. As he thought back to that day and remembered the realization of the locked door, he recalled the terror as the room began to fill with smoke. He’d tried to break the windows. Not even the glass doors to the balcony would open. John was more afraid for Emily and their baby. Then, the door opened. It was Anthony. Before he could process any more memories, the chamber door opened and the woman said, “Mr. Vandersol, please come back.”
&
nbsp; Chapter Seventeen
December 2014
Tony
Face reality as it is, not as it was or as you wish it to be.
—Jack Welch
“MY LIFE AS IT Didn’t Appear, Chapter 14…
I COULDN'T BELIEVE I was engaged and marrying Anthony Rawlings. When I woke the morning after his proposal, our engagement filled my every thought. At the time, I didn’t realize that my single-mindedness was exactly what he wanted. In merely eight months, I’d lost myself, learned my role, and played it without question. Rarely did I have independent notions. It wasn’t that I didn’t think and process, but every concept was skewed. Every moment of deliberation centered not on my own desire or aspiration but his. Each movement and action had one purpose—to please him and keep the darkness at bay.
The night before, as we discussed the wedding, my thoughts filled with illusions of fairytales. I believed that I’d lived through the worse, and I held tight to his promises for better. It wasn’t his money I desired: it was his name. I longed for validation in my new position. I craved to hold my head high without trepidation. From the very beginning, Tony required that physical poise. Yet, with my chin held high and my eyes glued to his, I felt like an imposter. He’d forced me into duties that I’d been raised to know were wrong. When we’d go into public, or even with his friends, I constantly feared that everyone knew the truth.
Then, in a magical, unexpected moment, everything changed. On that frost-filled night, with lights twinkling in the trees, we sat in a horse-drawn carriage, and his beautifully worded proposal took away my shame. He offered me the option of saying no. I could have done that and walked away—but to where? Anthony Rawlings was my job, my life, and my world. If I walked away, what would I be? What would that make me? Would I forever have been nothing more than his whore? He’d taken away my past, and I despised my present. That left only my future. It was like the journey necklace he’d given me. The diamond representing the future was the biggest and brightest for a reason—it held hope for better. That night in Central Park, Anthony Rawlings offered me a future without disgrace. The sparkling engagement ring that he presented was more than a symbol, much more. It was my dignity. I wanted it back. Truly, there was very little deliberation: I would be his wife.
No longer would I feel as though I didn’t belong. No longer would I feel like the world could see behind the veil of perfection. I would be Mrs. Anthony Rawlings. As husband and wife, our personal business would remain personal. Yet, no matter what it entailed, I could endure it with pride, knowing that now it was socially and morally acceptable.
I’d learned too well the importance of confidentiality. What happened in the past, present, or future, behind the iron gates of our estate, or the closed doors of one of our apartments, wouldn’t be shared, yet, as his wife, somehow I could accept it with my head truly held high.
My past and my future worked together to create a new paradigm. I knew I had my new sense of self-worth, but I remember wondering what my new title would mean to him. Did he too understand the significance of being his fiancée?
That morning, after I woke and ate, I went to look for him. From behind the closed door of his home office, I heard his voice. I was now his fiancée, not his mistress, possession, or whatever I had been. I also knew my rules. As his acquisition, I was not allowed to enter without permission or advance summons. Now that I’d willingly accepted my new role, what did it mean? Could I now pass into his sacred domain without fear of punishment? Standing for minutes debating my entrance, an all too familiar fear swept over me. I wanted to believe that I could enter and show him the love and happiness that I was feeling, but at the same time, I was terrified that in doing so, my illusions would be shattered irreparably. Without knocking, I returned to our suite.”
Tony leaned back and closed the book. Though his eyes were open and staring toward Jim, he was seeing the past. He saw his fiancée of four years ago. He remembered finding her in their suite. His thoughts had been filled with wedding plans and his conversation with Catherine. He had no idea that Claire had been standing outside of his office door or that she was fighting an internal battle.
“Why did you stop reading?” Jim asked, bringing him back to present. Truly, Tony wasn’t sure which place was worse—his memories or his therapy sessions in prison.
“I can’t read any more right now.”
“Why can’t you?”
Tony inhaled deeply as he fought the urge to rebuke Jim’s question. This was his counselor’s way of making Tony weigh each word. Was it that he was incapable of continuing to read? Tony corrected, “I don’t want to read anymore right now.”
Jim nodded. “Very good. Why don’t you want to read any more? You’d said you wanted to read happier parts of this book. It sounds like she was happy about the wedding. Was she happy?”
Tony could control the red outside of therapy. Hell—he could control the red in therapy when they talked about anything, except Claire. But when the topic was his wife, the crimson seeped through his shields and filled his thoughts without warning. “Does it fuck’n sound like she was happy to you?” he asked. “Maybe you’re hearing something I’m not.”
“Then tell me what you’re hearing.”
The chair screeched across the linoleum floor as Tony stood to pace toward the window. The view of the prison’s campus was much better from Jim’s office window than from any of the windows in his dormitory. In the summer, it’d been beautiful, but now with the grayness of winter, it reminded Tony that the green was gone. He tried to remind himself it may be dormant, but it wasn’t forgotten. He worked to articulate his thoughts. “She said she wanted to come in my office and show me the love and happiness that she was feeling.” He turned toward Jim. “That sounded happy—right?”
“What do you think?”
“I think what I’ve thought before. I fuck’n hate having questions answered with questions.”
“Okay, tell me why you aren’t convinced she sounded happy.”
The soft soles of his shoes muffled his footsteps as he traveled from one side of the office to the other. “I’d just proposed. I was in the office making arrangements, and she was scared to walk in.” His dark eyes shot darts toward his therapist. “Didn’t you hear that? She was fuck’n petrified to knock on the damn door.”
“Would she have needed to knock?”
Tony’s eyes opened wide at the question. Well, yes, she would… but later, after their divorce, she wouldn’t have. Fuck! He’d never thought of it like that before.
“Anthony, would she have been required to knock?”
“Yes.”
“What would have happened if she knocked without being asked to your office, say… upon her arrival to your estate?”
Tony dropped back into the chair, his gaze once again transfixed beyond his counselor’s eyes as his jaws clenched pulsating the muscles in his neck. Finally, he replied, “We’ve been through that shit. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to fuck’n read anymore of the damn book. Let’s talk about something else.”
“No. I want to talk about this.”
Tony’s hands clenched in an attempt to rein in the red. Glaring with what Tony was sure was what Claire referred to as his dark gaze, he stared at Jim.
“How often do you hear that word?”
“I hear it too often.”
“Now you do. What about before? What about during the time of this book? Did anyone tell you no?”
“No,” Tony replied.
“How did you feel back then?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t have someone who stared at me three times a week asking me about my damn feelings. I just did. I just was. I didn’t think about it.”
“Did you think about what Claire was feeling?”
“I told you I want to talk about something else. I wrote the letter that you said I should.”
Jim’s words slowed dramatically. “Anthony, did you think about Claire’s feelings?”
/>
“Sometimes.”
Jim’s brows rose questioningly.
“Like during the proposal. I wondered what she was thinking and feeling.”
“So now you have an idea. What do you think?”
“I don’t want to think about it. All right?” Tony replied. “I don’t want to think about how she felt like a whore. I hate even saying that word. She wasn’t!”
“Is that you talking now, or how you felt back then?”
“I never thought of her as a whore.”
“How did you think of her?”
The moisture burnt Tony’s eyes. He stood and walked back to the window. Snow had begun to fall. It was almost the fourth anniversary of his first wedding, almost Nichol’s first birthday, and almost Christmas, and he was stuck in a freak’n hellhole.
“Anthony?” Jim didn’t repeat the question.
“I thought of her as an acquisition. She’s used that word in the book because I told her that—later.”
“What did you tell her in the beginning?”
The red threatened again. Tony had said this before. What was the damn point of repeating it?
Jim cleared his throat, as he stood and began walking around the desk. “I believe you told me that you didn’t like to repeat yourself.” Stepping next to Tony, looking out the window, he added, “Neither do I.”
“I told her that I owned her. She belonged to me. I made her repeat it.” Tony turned on his heels. “That didn’t mean she was a whore!”
“If you would’ve known the way she felt, what would you have done?”
He closed his eyes. “Today, I’d take her in my arms and convince her that she was wrong, that she deserved all the love and respect, and to keep her chin held high because she had nothing to ever be ashamed of. She was never a whore. She’s always been my queen. In our fuck’n wasted game of chess, the king can survive without the queen, but he doesn’t want to—he needs her.”
The Consequences Series Box Set Page 188