Arima (Haruki Arima Duet, #2)

by Laine Watson

  “Princess.” He backs away from the bed, his hands defensively extended before him.

  “Don’t princess me! Get out,” I say, sternly.

  “It’s not what you think. I promise. Would you just let me explain?”

  I march over to him and push him out of the guestroom; he doesn’t give me much resistance.

  “Can I at least take a shower?”

  “No!” I throw his shoes and shirt out at him. “Get out!”

  “Summer!” he calls desperately.

  “Go! You and my mom don’t think I can do anything on my own. I’m not your responsibility, just go away.” I walk past him and open the door. “Get out! Leave me alone.”

  “Please, Summer.” He pleads as he steps outside on the landing.

  If I look at him just one time, I know I’ll cave, and whatever he has to say, I’ll believe it. So, I shut the door instead of giving into staring into his beautiful eyes.

  I don’t know if he stands there or if he gets in the car and drives off. All I know is I can’t hold it anymore. I run across the room and drop to the sofa, closing my eyes tightly, and sob into my lap.

  Why do anything when no one believes in me? Anger fills my heart, the sadness that had manifested seeping out.

  I sit up and wipe my eyes. I’ll prove them both wrong.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: So, How Was the Hearing?

  I’ve reverted back to the person I was right before I was with Haru. All the determination and drive I had to complete all these tasks and achieve my goals—show Haru and my mom I can do anything I want without their help—fizzles out and leaves me an empty hole in my heart.

  What am I doing? I ask myself, sitting in the guestroom bed. How many more weeks can I pretend to be okay? I lie back on the pillows and grab my phone, open the screen, and check my bank account.

  A knock comes at the door.

  I glance up, closing my screen. “Yeah?”

  “What you doing? I just got home,” Darby says.

  I scramble around, grab my laptop, and open it to the employment website and turn the screen toward the door.

  “It’s open,” I say peppily and put a smile on my face.

  The door opens, and Darby steps in.

  “Hi,” I smile cheerfully.

  She stares at me suspiciously, pursing her lips. She sits at the edge of the bed and gazes at me with motherly eyes.

  I stare at her like a pitiful child, whose secrets have been found out.

  “Have you been in here all day?”

  “N-no.”

  “Yes, you have.” She glances at the screen of the laptop, then closes it roughly. “Stop with the website, please. I don’t enjoy seeing you like this.”

  “Like what?” I say, chipper.

  “When I’m not around, you cry. I know you only tell those stories about Max, so I’ll think you’re not worried about Haru or going back to him. It’s not the things you do to prove you don’t want to be with him, it’s the subtle things you keep to yourself that tell off on you.”

  I shake my head, keeping my eyes from her.

  “You don’t believe me? Okay, you leave your shoes at the door. You told me that’s what Haru and Max do. It subtly reminds you of him, doesn’t it? Instead of sleeping in the middle of the bed, you sleep on the right side. You’ve been wearing this same little outfit for weeks. It’s the same outfit you had on when he came over. It’s the freshest memory you have of him, and you’re trying to keep it intact. Stop doing this, please, and talk to me. Let’s figure something out.”

  She’s observed too much. It’s not as if I can deny any of it when it’s all true.

  “Haru’s still putting money in my account every week,” I tell her. “I love him, but I want to do something on my own. I can’t, and that’s the part that sucks.”

  “You don’t have to do things alone. Everyone has help until they’re able to handle things on their own, even me.”

  “Yeah, maybe we can work something out. I can’t live in your guestroom forever.”

  “No kidding.”

  I reach down and pull the bag of mail Haru brought over, from underneath the bed.

  “I need to find out about this job at the school. I need an actual job.”

  “I can’t believe you’re talking about living on your own and doing things by yourself—like, didn’t we just come from Japan? You’re supposed to be getting married in two and a half weeks. What the hell are you doing? Everything is booked, in case you haven’t noticed. Your dress, mine, and Mira’s dress are hanging up in my bedroom closet and the guy stuff is at Hayden’s. Yeah, we don’t have time for an official fitting or alterations, but it’s nothing duct tape, safety pins and Velcro can’t fix.”

  “No.”

  “This was a lot of money. I have my crew, the decorations, a solid plan.”

  “Wow, really? You didn’t tell me any of that.”

  “How could I when you’ve been moping around? The bridal shower was supposed to be yesterday.” She lowers her eyes, a wistful expression on her face. “But I didn’t mention it. You seem so miserable. I didn’t want to bring it up and make you cry, but I’ve done my job. I know it will be a beautiful ceremony and your relationship is worth fighting for. What are you guys doing? This is so dumb!”

  She’s right. If we would have talked about any of it, I would have cried, even more than I already have.

  “It’s not dumb. You don’t know how it feels when someone you love doesn’t believe in you.”

  “He definitely believes in you, and so do I. You’re a late bloomer. So what if you need help? Don’t you see you both help each other in unique ways? He helps you how you need, and you help him how he needs. It’s not some profound philosophical epiphany. It’s a fact. I planned a wedding for my best friend to marry the man she loves. Are you guys really not going to go through with it? You haven’t taken the ring off.”

  “He said my only options were living with you or my mom. If I didn’t like those choices, I had to come home.” I sigh, hopelessly. “Technically, he’s right, but he doesn’t believe in me and doesn’t think I can do anything on my own, just like my mom.”

  “That’s the issue here, Summer. He’s not your mom. Stop relating what he says to how much of a bitch your mom is. You guys were working on things together, continue to do that and build something that belongs to the both of you. It’s okay to have help. When you do things together, it means more to you both. Plus, you can’t live here forever. I might move,” she slips in.

  I glance up at her. “Y—you’re moving?”

  “Thinking about it.”

  I sigh again, depressingly. I rummage through the mail quietly. I feel her eyes on me, but I don’t look up. I read the envelops, nothing important until I get to a letter from the high school.

  “What is it?” Darby and I lock eyes for a moment as I open the letter.

  I read through it quickly, gasping at the second paragraph. “Oh, my God. I got the paid internship at the high school.” I stare up at Darby in shock.

  Her eyes widen.

  I’m ecstatic. “This is great. It’s not like having a proper job, but it’s paid. They give you a stipend once a month. And when I graduate,” I continue to read on, “if my evaluation is up to par, I could be brought on as an actual counselor. I have to call the school or go up there.”

  In the next breath, all my excitement leaves. “This internship is in Missouri. Want to move with me?” I panic right away and withdraw my statement. “That was stupid. You have your own life.”

  “Uh, so...” She bites her bottom lip. “I’m moving where Hayden lives. The apartments are nice, and we’d be in the same neighborhood. I didn’t want to talk to you about it because of what’s going on with you two. I didn’t know the right time. I guess it’s now. I was thinking about transferring to the headquarters up by you guys. I don’t have any family here, and it’s not much more rent than this place, plus I’m switching positions. So, it might work out.”


  “Yeah, this is perfect. Heh. Thinking about moving? You already made up your mind.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No. It’s perfect for me too.” I smile.

  “Why is it okay to live with me but not him? The person you’ve been living with.” She sighs. “Listen, when I met you, you were sixteen, broken, and had no idea who you were—neither did I. It’s been a long time. You’ve grown so much. However, you still have the same insecurity. Let it go. Arima wants to help. Open your eyes and see how important you both are to each other. Stop dwelling on old things and tying them to him.”

  I lower my eyes. “Even if that’s all true. He said I wasn’t Max’s mom. That hurt the most.”

  “So, you walk out of their lives forever? Moms don’t do that! You’re a woman, and this man loves you and wants to give you the world. You don’t have to take it. In fact, you can make him build you your own world just the way you like it. That’s how much power you have.”

  “I don’t have any power.”

  “You do! Get off of your ass and go get your man and your son. Live the life you want to live. It’s okay to help him, and it’s okay for him to help you. And if you don’t understand that, if you accept everything your mother says, and lose your first chance to have the life you want, then you’ll never be happy!” She says with so much frustration in her voice as she rises to her feet.

  She frowns at me, shaking her head in blatant disappointment. She walks toward the door and glances back at me with dissatisfaction in her eyes, “If you don’t get to have your happy ending, it’ll be your own fault.” She tells me and opens the door. I say nothing, though she waits. After a while of silence, she shakes her head at me again, as I gaze up at her pitifully. She leaves the room, slamming the door behind her so hard, I jump.

  For a few moments I sit there, jarred. I don’t know what to think. After a while, I swallow and get up from my bed. Opening the door slowly, I peek down the hall.

  “Darby?” I say.

  No one answers. I tiptoe out of my room and down the hall, keeping a lookout for her. Passing the kitchen, I extend my neck into the living room.

  “Darby?” I call again. “Where are you?” I mumble to myself, heading to her room.

  I knock on the door, anticipation running through veins. No one answers, so I quietly open her door. There she sits on her bed with a smug smile and her arms folded across her chest.

  “I knew it. You came to see the dress. Didn’t you?”

  I step into her room and lower my head. “Yes.” I peep.

  “There it is.” She fans her hand toward the closet. Hanging over the sliding doors is my wedding dress. I turn to face it. Sparks fly all over my body, the pure white chiffon and organza catching my eye. Even covered in plastic, I love it. Visions of me walking down the aisle, Haru standing waiting for me, play in my head. I allow myself to indulge in these thoughts for a few moments.

  I glance at Darby.

  “It’s beautiful.” I whisper pensively.

  “It is.” Darby says.

  At this very moment all I want to do is hear Haru’s voice.

  My chest rises and falls.

  “Thank you.” I whimper.

  “You’re welcome.” she says.

  I leave the room holding myself all the way back to mine. I sit down on my bed. “I can’t marry him. Does that mean he has to be completely out of my life?”

  I purse my lips to the side and reach for my phone and call Haru.

  “Hi, princess.”

  “Haru...” I call breathlessly.

  “You miss me?” he asks.

  “I got the paid internship.” I reveal in a quiet voice.

  “What? Seriously? That’s awesome. I knew you could do it.”

  An awkward silence falls upon the conversation.

  “Hey M—”

  “I’m going to take it. Darby’s moving there. We’re going to get an apartment together, and yeah... I’ll be back at the end of the summer.”

  “Summ—”

  “I’ll be back right before school. Can I see Max?” I ask, hoping he says nothing regarding anything other than what I asked. I’ll cut him off until he’s compliant.

  “Yeah, you can see him whenever you want,” he mumbles.

  “Great!” I cover my mouth, my eyes filling with tears. “Talk to you later.” My voice wavers.

  “Yeah,” Haru says, disappointed.

  The call ends. I toss my head back, gritting my teeth and moaning through them as I close my eyes tightly. I let out a muffled, tight-lipped scream and sigh calmly. With my eyes still closed, I crack my neck, stretching it out as I roll my head.

  I inhale deeply and exhale the same. She’s wrong. I can do this myself. I don’t need Haru’s help. I’m standing up for myself this time. It doesn’t matter what anyone says. I have to do this for me.

  A message chimes on my phone.

  I check it. It’s from my mom. I clutch my chest and scramble to open the message. My heart falls and spills out as I read the text message.

  So, how was the hearing?

  Why would she text that to me? Wait... how would she know? I gasp. Throw some clothes on and head right to her house.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: You did This

  I sit in my car outside of my mother’s house, trying to get up enough courage to talk to her.

  I step out of the car and take a slow, agonizing stroll toward the door. I knock on the door, then unlock it, and step into the house. I see no one, but her car is outside, so she has to be here.

  “Mom,” I call. For a few moments, I hear no movement. After a while, I hear heels on the hardwood floor. My mother appears at the base of the stairs. She gazes down at me with no movement for a few seconds. Then her shoulders drop slowly, and a smirk appears across her face.

  “I thought I’d be getting a visit from you. I thought Mr. Arima would be with you.” She eyes me as she walks confidently down the stairs. “Am I to assume you two are no more?”

  “Why would you assume that?” I step out of the doorway and into the living room.

  “Why else would you be here?”

  I ignore her questions. “How did you know about the hearing?”

  My mother sighs, gathering her things for work. “I’m going to be late,” she says, approaching me. “Excuse me.”

  “How did you know?” I step back in front of the door.

  “Please move.” She smiles, impatiently.

  “No.”

  She glances down, twisting the heel of her four-inch pumps. She flips her hair back. “All right. Do you not remember you called me and—”

  “Stop lying!”

  She swallows, “She was looking for him.”

  “So why didn’t you tell her he moved?”

  “I did.”

  “Then how did this get turned into a custody battle? If you knew, why didn’t you just call us, or call him? You knew exactly how to get a hold of us, and you still let her subpoena him? Do you know how destroyed he was? He is?”

  “I don’t know. That’s not my business.” She said, staring straight at me with her resting bitch face.

  “What did you tell her?”

  “She wanted to see her grandson. I helped her make a decision.”

  “You did this. You knew all along. You saw a chance to ruin what I have, and you took it.”

  “What you have?” she mocks, arching her neck with a slight giggle. “You have nothing.”

  “I have everything. Did you find her?”

  “No, the school gave her my number.”

  “Why didn’t you just give them Haru’s number? I already know the answer. You wanted to control this, didn’t you? You had to make a mess of everything. You think you’re hurting me, but you’re hurting Max. Did you think about that?”

  An ounce of humanity is visible in her eyes, possible vulnerability and a conscience I can just barely make out, fleeting in its nature, as the next moment it’s gone.

  �
�She probably thinks you helped her, and she’s doing the best for Max.”

  “I don’t really give a damn what either of you think.” She bats her lashes and purses her lips.

  “Why do you hate me? Why would you want to take away the things I love the most? Why can’t you accept Haru loves me and wants to be with me?” I say, tearing up. “You’re a despicable person.”

  She doesn’t speak; her armor of mockery and contempt is shaken. Though it is slight, there is an apparent difference in my mother’s stance. She keeps her eyes away from me; her lips pursed in a pouty manner.

  “This is why you are alone. I don’t know what happened between you and Dad, but I can guarantee it’s because you do things like this. You can’t control everything, and you can’t try to destroy people if you want them to love you. I love you, Mom, and so does Max. It hurts so much you won’t be happy for me. You won’t see what I’ve done. I just wanted you to be proud of me, but you know what? You’re such a horrible person, why would I care what you think of me? I don’t need your approval; I have my own. I can love Haru and Max.”

  That’s not for her, that’s for me.

  “I give myself permission to be happy. I don’t care how many convoluted plans you come up with, you ripped your family apart. You will not rip mine apart,” I say, determined. I place my hand on the doorknob and swing it open. “Goodbye, Mother.”

  “I don’t have to rip yours apart. You’ll do it yourself. You’re my daughter; you’ll always let pride lead your decisions.”

  “No, I won’t!” I turn to her at the bottom of the porch. “You shouldn’t think that way either. I want you to be my mother. I’m not in competition with you; I don’t want to be. I don’t want to take anything away from you. I’d rather you be a part of this family.”

  “I have no interest in engaging in this charade of yours,” she says sharply.

  “Charade? Is that what you consider being in love and happy?” I shrug. “Whatever.”

  We lock eyes for a brief moment, her expression not as demeaning as it often is. I tear my eyes away from her, though I want to ask her to say something, I have to talk to Haru.

  “I love you, Mom. I wish I could hear you say that,” I say tearfully and make my way to the car. Why does she have to go out of her way to hurt people—to hurt me?