“It wasn’t my idea, I swear it. I didn’t know she was going to say that.”
“Let’s get something straight, you have a long way to go before I believe anything that comes out of your deceitful mouth!”
“I’m sorry, Steve, so sorry... for everything.”
The sound Steve made in response to her apology was filled with scorn, as he watched dispassionately as Hope blinked back tears.
“Is that it? Is that all you have to say to me... that you’re sorry?”
“If you’ll let me, I’ll try to explain.”
“Hell yeah. I can’t wait to hear you explain. I want to hear what you have to say about the fact that I stood outside the patio doors of my home, and listened to my fiancée, on her wedding day, proposition another man. A man who rebuffed her time and time again, but she refused to take no for an answer. Oh, and the man she threw herself at was none other than my best friend. The one person in this world that you knew I called family.”
“Steve, I’m so sorry!” Hope said, her hands clasped over her mouth.
“I don’t care about your sorry, keep it. All I want to know is, why?”
“I can imagine how angry you are with me, and I know you don’t want to hear my apologies; but I need to say it.”
Jumping to his feet, Steve began to pace. “I don’t care what you need, Hope. I’m not here to for you. I’m here for me. I’m the reason I got on a plane and travelled thousands of miles across the Atlantic without sleep. I’m here because you and your dumb ass friend decided that I was the one you wanted to lay your guilt trip on.
I’m here because I wasn’t willing to deal with you having called me, and I didn’t come when you were about to take your life. I’m here because in your selfishness, you didn’t bother to think that you had already put me through situations I didn’t deserve. I’m here because I refused to have to deal with you laying on a mortuary slab and you getting your way of attempting to make me feel guilty for the rest of my life for what you’ve done!”
As Steve came to a halt, he realized just how angry he actually was. He had suppressed his feelings for too long. It was bad enough to lose loved ones, but the idea that someone would imagine that it was acceptable to invent a suicide attempt as a means of getting their way was heinous to him.
Steve understood how circumstances could push one to depths from which they found it difficult to extricate themselves. But he couldn’t understand why anyone would think it was acceptable to make something like that up. It was the ones who were left behind that had to pick up the pieces, and then find a way to accept it and go on.
“I didn’t know she was going to say that. I didn’t, I didn’t!” Hope sobbed.
As Steve listened to her cries, he recognized the pain in his chest for what it was. It was a relief. On the flight over he had been on tenterhooks, unable to sleep, eat or even read, praying that he wasn’t too late. That by the time he arrived, Hope would still be alive. No matter what had happened between them, he was glad that the story of her being suicidal was a lie.
His final thoughts had calmed him. Retaking his seat, he listened to her broken sobs and felt a level of detachment that surprised him. “I don’t want to talk about that, Hope. I want you to answer my question. I deserve that at least. Why did you do it?”
Steve hoped she realized her time was up. That she recognized this moment for what it was. That her answer, whatever it might be, would set the parameters of their future relationship.
“I was jealous.” Hope said and then fell silent.
Steve remained silent, waiting for her to say more. Then he realized that the simplicity of her words were at the same time extremely complex. Even as the thought registered with him, he pushed it away, refusing to rationalize on her behalf.
“That’s it, you were jealous. Have you lost your mind? I flew eight thousand miles to hear that half ass reason? You better have something else to tell me or I’m walking out that door!”
“I don’t know where to begin.”
“For God’s sake, I don’t want to hear another damn cliché leave your mouth. Just say something I’m going to be willing to listen to!”
Hope jumped at his bark of anger. “Okay, you’ve met my parents, and I’ve told you about some of my childhood experiences. You know that my mother’s a drunk, even though she tries to hide it.
Do you know my parents are the reason I don’t want children? Can you imagine another monumental fuck up like me roaming around the earth? Don’t answer that.” Hope said, a look of dismay on her face that Steve might actually agree with her blasé comment. But he remained silent, expressionless, waiting for her to continue.
“Somewhere in the back of my mind I seem to remember my mother being sober. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my part. Maybe, I made up the flashes that I sometimes see in my mind’s eye. I sometimes see her bending over me, tucking me in, brushing back my hair, whispering, let Mommy hear your prayers, baby.” So lost was she in memories of the past, Hope had no conception of the look of intense longing that was written across her face. Nor did she realize that her words once spoken were the ones that snagged Steve’s complete attention.
“Go on, Hope.”
Seeming to be pulled from a distant place, Hope blinked as her eyes focused in on Steve, her startled expression telling him that her mind, for a few moments, had been fixated on a far off place and time.
Steve wanted to kick himself, angry that he had broken her line of thought. With her few words of recall of her mother, he had, for the first time been given an insight into her deepest feelings where her mother was concerned.
He should have known better. He had watched and learned from his parents on countless occasions when they had handled Jason when he first came to them. They had gently maneuvered him until he had been ready to open up to them. Although he couldn’t help thinking that Jason had only allowed this after he had dissected them from every possible angle.
Although it was too late and the spell had been broken, Steve wanted her to continue. “Tell me.”
Hope regarded Steve for two beats of his heart, and this time he could tell that her introspection had been pushed away, and for that he was sorry.
“Those possible memories of my mom and me being so close at some point were relegated in my mind. Thoughts of her being like that seemed to be wiped out of my mind, and when I was really young I didn’t let it matter. I allowed my dad to take her place.
I don’t know how it actually happened, all I know is that one day she was gone, and he was there. It’s funny,” Hope said, with mirthless laughter, “how I can remember nearly everything about him as a child and almost nothing about my mother.
Anyway, you more than anyone else knows that I’m spoilt. My dad always allowed me any and everything I wanted. I didn’t have to put up a fuss as my friends told me they did when their parents refused them something. All I had to do was ask once, and it was mine. If ever my mom tried to object to the way my father spoiled me it would make me so mad. That is until he told her in front of me that I was his only child and that I could have anything I wanted, whenever I wanted.
He also told her that there was nothing she could do about it because he wouldn’t allow it. I remember her crestfallen expression, and I reveled in it. She was just a mean old drunk lady who happened to be my mother. Daddy was in charge, and I didn’t have to listen to anything she had to say.
He was true to his word, I did get whatever I wanted. I remember running and hugging my dad for sticking up for me against the drunk lady. But as I was hugging him, I happened to look up, and although he was holding me, he wasn’t paying any attention to me. I could see his reflection in a mirror. He was looking at my mother, and he was smiling, she was crying. The drunk lady did that a lot when I was little. She still does that, even to this day.”
Steve could see that Hope’s introspective look was back, and this time he remained silent.
“That was how it was in our house. My
father spoiling me, my mother crying and drinking, and me getting whatever I wanted. As I grew older and prettier, I began to see just how much I resembled my mother and I hated it. I hated her. I didn’t want anything to do with her. I didn’t want to turn out to be like her; a stumbling, mumbling relic of a woman who stunk of alcohol!” Jumping to her feet, Hope clutched the front of her sweater with both hands, as though she wanted to rip it apart.
It seemed to Steve that her level of agitation was such that he knew they had to take a break. He had met her parents, had seen them interact, and had noticed how controlling her father had been towards both her and his wife.
He remembered too that it had been a monumental task to get Hope to introduce him to her parents. As their first dinner together progressed, he had realized why. At their meeting at the restaurant all had seemed normal. Steve had been struck by the similarity between mother and daughter, and had complimented her mother, saying that he now understood where Hope had gotten her beauty. He recalled that he had registered something in Hope’s father’s eyes that he had thought was jealousy but had dismissed it as his mind playing tricks on him.
As their dinner progressed, he had noticed that Hope’s father kept his wife’s wine glass topped off. He had seen her delicately place her hand over the top of the glass to refuse a refill, but she had been ignored. He had also noticed that the vibrant woman who he had met at the start of the evening was gone. Her eyes becoming progressively more glazed until her conversation was entirely gone.
At this stage, he could tell that Hope was deeply embarrassed by her mother, and it seemed to Steve that her father’s expression was one of satisfaction. He had been in their company a handful of times subsequent to that first meeting, and the pattern was always repeated. Steve knew abuse when he saw it, and had tried to question Hope about the toxic relationship her parents shared. Her anger at his inquiries about her mother’s wellbeing had surprised him.
She had told him that her father had spent years attempting to get her mother help but that there was no helping her. Her disdain for the woman who had given her life had astonished Steve. His attempts to show her his perspective as an outsider on how he saw her parents’ relationship had resulted in her verbally attacking him. An argument had ensued which culminated in Hope storming out.
Unperturbed by her tantrum, Steve had revisited the conversation again. The result always being the same, Hope’s unwillingness to see her parents in any other roles than the ones she had grown accustomed to.
At one of their infrequent meetings he and tried to get Taryn on her own to speak with her. He had wanted to let her know that if she ever needed anything she could call on him. He had given her his card, but as he had been handing it over, Mason had approached them and had wanted to know what they had been discussing. Taryn’s hand had closed so tightly around the card, Mason’s eyes were immediately drawn to her fist.
Taryn had told her husband that Steve had just given her his card as he wanted to talk to her about a gift he was thinking of getting for Hope. Mason had smiled, but it never reached his eyes. He had given Steve a knowing look, taken his wife’s arm, and led her away. Steve had never heard from Taryn, and that had been the last time he had seen her.
“It’s okay, Hope. Why don’t you take a break?” Steve spoke into the silence that had enveloped the room while at the same time pushing his memories of her parents away.
“Alright. Do you want something to drink?” Hope’s ready acceptance of his suggestions told Steve just how much the revealing of her background was affecting her.
“You know what I really need right now? I need something to eat. Let’s go out, and I’ll treat you to a late lunch.” Steve suggested. Hope’s immediate agreement to his suggestion spoke volumes, and Steve was prepared to give her the respite she seemed to need. However, before the night was over, he would hear it all.
Chapter 9
Hope’s attempt at eating had been met with a churning of her stomach that caused her to excuse herself on more than one occasion. From what she could see, Steve hadn’t fared much better. She knew neither of them were interested in their meal. Rather, Steve’s suggestion that they go out for a meal had been his way to give her time to compose herself.
He may well hate her at this point, but she knew him well enough to know that he always had the wellbeing of others in the forefront of his mind.
For the thousandth time, Hope mentally berated herself for her stupidity at what she had done to him. How, without a thought for his feelings, she had played out a role that for her was almost second nature.
While a part of her mind rejoiced in the fact that Steve was actually sitting across the table from her, she wasn’t so foolish as to imagine, even for a moment that she could win him back. Too much had happened. He was still too hurt by the way she had behaved, and most distressing of all, he no longer trusted her.
Throughout the weeks since she had last seen Steve, Hope had come to realize that, while she missed his presence and the warmth of his love, she was most saddened that she had lost his trust.
Something of her inner feelings must have been reflected in her regard of him because Steve moved abruptly. Removing his napkin form his lap he threw it down on his barely touched plate.
“If you’re finished, let’s get out of here.” Whatever he had seen in her eyes, Hope could tell had angered him.
With a nod, she too removed her napkin and folded it beside her plate as Steve signaled for the check.
As they walked back towards the apartment, Hope’s mind wandered back towards the last time they had taken this walk together. They had been laughing and joking, holding hands and talking nonsense to each other. The beautiful couple had drawn many admiring glances from both men and women, but they had been so wrapped up in their time together neither of them had noticed.
Unable to stop herself, Hope extended her fingers allowing them to brush against Steve’s. His reaction shocked her in how quickly he pulled away from her touch. Glancing up, Hope saw that he hadn’t even spared her a look. His eyes were trained straight ahead, as though he were walking down the street alone.
The rain that had been falling on and off all day decided that this was the moment to begin again in earnest. It brought with it the smell of the decaying leaves associated with fall. Through her tears, Hope focused on the horizon taking in the darkening hues of the rolling sky that so mirrored her inner turmoil.
As the rain continued to fall and the drops fell against her skin, Hope turned her face upwards allowing the crisp moisture to diminish her humiliation at Steve’s reaction. Continuing forward, she berated herself at her stupidity. He was barely tolerating her, and just for a moment she had allowed herself to forget that extremely significant fact.
Destiny’s apartment was located in Camden Town, and the couple didn’t have far to walk from the restaurant back to where Hope was staying. However it was far enough for them to both be soaked through to the skin.
“I need to get out of these wet clothes.” Steve said, with impatience in his voice. They were inside the flat, but Hope couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
“Of course, sorry. Why don’t you use my room.”
“I’ll use, Destiny’s room. You need to get out of those wet clothes as well.”
Steve didn’t wait for an answer as he collected his bag and disappeared into Destiny’s bedroom.
Once in dry clothes, Hope didn’t immediately leave her room. She realized she was being a coward, but she felt she needed the respite that being enclosed in the room provided. Steve had made it clear that he was there for answers. Hope fully intended to give him what he wanted, but knew that once she was finished it might well be the last time she saw him. That thought alone kept her sequestered behind the closed door.
The loud knock pulled Hope from her reverie. Her time was up. If he hated her now, when she was finished telling him everything, he would loathe her.
“I made coffee.”
Hope
waited for him to say more, but Steve remained silent. He had withdrawn, and was obviously waiting for her to emerge.
When Hope entered the lounge, she noticed that Steve had changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater. He had also retaken the same seat he had previously occupied, holding a cup of steaming coffee between his large hands.
Swallowing, Hope moved into the room and sat down. Picking up the coffee Steve had left for her, she took a cautious sip, conscious of its heat.
Looking up from her drink, Hope saw that Steve was watching her, his eyes devoid of emotion. His blank stare made her even more uncomfortable. Understanding that he wasn’t about to speak, Hope cleared her throat, took a deep breath and charged in.
“I guess you can tell by now that I hate my mother. Well the feeling is mutual, she hates me!” Hope’s opening sally received the desired reaction, she had managed to shock Steve out of his blank regard.
“Come on, Steve, you look shocked. You’ve met my mother. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that she can’t stand me?”
“What are you talking about? Your mother does not hate you!”
Hope’s dismissive laughter must have elicited some form of adverse reaction in Steve because she saw him rub at his skin as though ants were crawling over him, and he was unable to suppress a shudder.
“Why do you think your mother hates you?”
“She’s a drunk. What mother chooses a bottle of alcohol over her own child? I’ll tell you what kind, the kind that doesn’t give a shit!”
“Is that really what you think?”
“Yes, it’s really what I think. Do you know that the only time I ever truly remember my mother being sober was when Aviva came to stay with us? I was seventeen years old, and it was the first time I could truly recall my mother without the glaze of drink in her eyes.
They, my mother, and Aviva used to spend so much time together. I remember Vee used to try to pull me into their talks and shopping trips. But I wasn’t interested. That woman could fool Aviva, but she couldn’t fool me.”
The Ties that Bind (Kingdom) Page 6