20. Sterling
CHAPTER 20
Sterling
A knife could probably cut the tension in the living room at the moment. I’m standing beside a wall, staring at my ex-wife, who’s seated like she doesn’t have a care in the world. My mother’s beside Marissa. She’s always liked her; they have similar interests. And Marissa’s tried hard to get Elana to warm up to her.
Dad’s pissed. Like me he’s standing in a corner as well, arms crossed as he observes the scene.
“How have you been, sweetheart?” Mom asks, taking Marissa’s hand in hers and patting the back of it.
I manage not to roll my eyes. There are several reasons my marriage ended the way it did, and a small, dumb part of me thinks her relationship with my mother might have been a factor. Elana treats Marissa way better than she treats her own sons. She’s never tried to make it a secret that she wished she had a daughter of her own. And Marissa played that role well.
“I’ve been good, Elana,” Marissa replies sweetly. “You look amazing. Much younger than the last time I saw you.”
Mother beams, placing a hand on her stiff jaw. She must be so happy those cosmetic treatments she’s been getting are working.
“Enough.” Dad’s voice practically slashes through the air. “Your sudden appearance needs to be called into question, Marissa.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, eyes narrowed on her face.
She finally looks at me, and the brown eyes that I used to think were so deep seem almost soulless. Like there’s nothing there.
What the hell happened to her?
“What do you mean, what am I doing here?” Marissa asks haughtily. “You didn’t think I’d miss Sean’s birthday?”
A muscle ticks in my jaw. “Yes, I did think that. Because you’ve missed every other fucking thing these past few months. Where the hell have you been? Did you not get any of my messages? Why didn’t you call?”
“Language, Sterling,” my mother cautions.
My fists clench. “Get up,” I say to Marissa.
“What? Why? I want to see Sean,” she states, crossing her arms over my chest.
“You’re not seeing Sean until you explain yourself,” I tell her. “And you’d better have a fucking good explanation for your behavior these past few months.”
She blows out a breath. “Fine. Let’s go.”
She smiles at my mother as she gets to her feet, whispering something to her. I offer my dad a slight nod before we exit the living room. I lead her up to my bedroom after ensuring that Karl is still keeping Sean occupied in his room with his nanny.
“Who was the woman with you?” Marissa asks as we walk.
“What woman?”
“The one who was by your side when I arrived. You know me, Ster. I don’t miss anything. Judging by the body language, you two seemed close. She also looked a little uncomfortable at my arrival.”
“Putting that psychology degree to good use,” I snarl, not answering her question.
She’s too smart for her own good. And she never misses anything. Our whole relationship was her constantly psychoanalyzing everything. It drove me crazy just how well she was able to see into me. Kind of the way Emilia does. The difference is, Emilia’s intrusion is calm, soothing. Marissa has a habit of cutting me open in the worst ways.
“What’s her name? She’s pretty.”
“That’s what Sean said the first time he saw her,” I state, not meaning for the words to have a bite but they do regardless.
“Sean knows her?” she asks quietly. “Does he like her?”
“He’s… fond.”
“That’s good,” Marissa murmurs.
When I look at her, there’s a devastated expression on her face. One she quickly covers up. Alright, now I’m worried. As a wife, Marissa drove me crazy. But she’s a good person and one of the few people I’ve ever opened my heart to.
We arrive at my bedroom and I lead her inside, closing the door behind us. Marissa takes a seat on my bed, her hands running over the sheets. Her eyes get this faraway look for a moment.
“So this is your childhood bedroom,” she says softly. “It’s nice. We should have visited Edenton when we were married.”
“We were too busy for that,” I reply, grabbing a chair at my desk and dragging it over to sit in front of her. I spread my legs forward, crossing my ankles. “Alright, let’s hear it. Your big excuse. It had better be good, Marissa.”
She smirks. Instead of talking, she lies down on the bed. She sighs softly.
“You know you’re my best friend, Ster?”
I shake my head even though she can’t see me.
“Nah, I’d say it’s more Carson at the moment,” I say, only half joking.
I remember how pissed he was earlier. We need to have a conversation about his sister. And I have no clue how it’s going to go. I need to do so many things.
Marissa frowns. “Carson?”
“Yeah, I’ve told you about him. I grew up with him here in Edenton. He’s Emilia’s brother.”
“Oh,” Marissa says, looking at me. “So her name’s Emilia?”
I roll my eyes. “Would you drop it?”
“Not a chance in hell.” She laughs lightly. “You know, you get this look in your eyes when you’re in love. It’s this soft, ‘I’d burn the world for you’ look. Even saying her name makes the corners of your eyes softer.”
“I’m not in love with Emilia,” I stay stiffly.
“But you’re halfway there,” she retorts sadly. “Oh, Sterling. What are we going to do?”
I run a hand through my hair. “Talk to me, Marissa. Come on. Where have you been the past couple of months?”
“In Germany,” she answers lightly. “Thought I’d go on vacation. And it was so fun I just didn’t want to come back.”
“Bullshit,” I snap. “What were you really up to in Germany?”
She sits up at that, all traces of amusement wiped from her face. Her eyes are glassy and the sight has me reeling.
“What are we going to do, Sterling?” she asks again, heartbreak in her voice.
A shiver rolls through me. It’s like I already know even before she says anything. You can always tell when something’s about to break your heart.
My chest tightens. “What’s wrong?” I ask gently.
“I have cancer,” she whispers.
The first thing I feel is a rushing through my ear. Disbelief pulses through me, followed by the need for it not to be true. It’s a good thing I was already sitting because I don’t think I have any control over any of my limbs at the moment. I stare at Marissa, dumbfounded, as she continues.
“Pancreatic cancer. I was already at Stage 3 when it was discovered. I found out a couple months ago, which is why I left. My dad has a friend in Germany with a hospital that was founded primarily for treating my form of cancer. I’ve been getting treated all this while, radiation therapy and chemotherapy.”
I exhale harshly, trying and failing to come to terms with everything she’s telling me. Marissa’s always seemed so strong, unbreakable. Hearing this breaks my heart.
“But you’ll be okay, right? You’re getting better?” I ask hopefully.
Marissa shuts her eyes with a slight shake of her head. I watch as a tear slides down her cheek.
“The doctors said the cancer’s progressed. I don’t think I have much time left, Sterling.”
My jaw tightens. “Hey, don’t say that,” I say forcefully. “You’re going to be okay. I wish you’d told me about all this from the jump, but you’re here now. You have Sean and me. And I’m going to do whatever it takes to help you, alright?”
“You sound like a knight from all those fairy tales,” she says on a smile.
“And that makes you, what? A troll?” I drawl, trying hard to ignore the fear spreading through my chest.
She laughs. “You’re a jerk. I missed you so much.”
I stand then, settling down on the bed next to her. She allows me to pull her into my arms, holding her body to my chest.
“You did so well on your own. I’m proud of you,” I say quietly.
“I’m scared, Sterling,” she whispers, hugging my waist tight.
“I know. I’m scared, too. But we’ll face it together. I promise.”
It takes me approximately a day to stop feeling numb. To start facing the reality of my new situation. In that one day, I’ve managed to come up with a plan of action of some sort. I’ve worked out the first steps and I’ve started making preparations.
Sean got to see his mother on his birthday, just like he wanted, and he was so happy about it. Marissa and I have come to a decision not to tell him anything yet. We’re going to let him be happy with his mom for as long as he wants. And if things don’t get better, we’ll try to explain what’s going on. But I’m optimistic that things will turn out alright.
It’s funny; I’ve never thought of myself as optimistic until now. Nothing’s ever worked out the way I wanted simply because I wished it to be. But with Marissa, I hope with every single thing in me that things will turn out okay. Because I’m not sure how I’ll be able to handle it if they don’t.
Not surprisingly, after making all my plans and preparations, the next thing on my mind is seeing Emilia. It’s 9 p.m. when I hear the door to the bar being opened. I smell her before I see her.
Her scent surrounds me, something I’ve become so accustomed to. Same as her voice, her smile, that cute snorting sounds she makes sometimes when she laughs. Every sense in me is wired to her, reacts in her presence. I don’t understand why. But I’m glad that she’s someone who can make me come alive.
Emilia places a purse on the stool next to me, and when I glance at her, her blue eyes are peering at both me and the bottle of whiskey in front of me.
“I’m start to think you’re an alcoholic,” she mutters.
I chuckle. I’m very aware that alcohol’s a terrible coping mechanism. But it’s what I always turn to when I feel my life derailing. Thankfully, I don’t get that feeling too often. But twice in two months isn’t really something I’m happy about. Especially because it feels like Emilia only gets to see the worst of me.
“Hey, angel,” I say softly. “You look beautiful.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Are you already drunk?”
“No, I just got started. And you seriously need to learn how to take compliments,” I state.
She shrugs. “Compliments make me feel like a person is trying to get me to take my guard down.”
Would that be so bad? I want to ask. But instead I smile. “Only you, Cameron.”
“At least you chose a bar in town this time,” she states, pulling the stool back to settle down at my side.
“I was trying to escape prying eyes back then,” I say on a shrug.
Even now, I can feel the meager number of patrons in the bar looking at us. I’m a Harrington; I’m used to being watched. But in a town like Edenton, the scrutiny feels even more intense because everyone’s always in each other’s business.
“And now?”
“I just don’t give a fuck anymore,” I say, throwing a shot back. “Want some?”
She hesitates. When I look at her, something flashes in her eyes, too quick for me to discern.
“No thanks,” she replies. “I’m not a fan of drinking. Not all of us have god-level tolerance. I’ll have a Coke instead.”
She calls for the bartender by name, asking him politely for a Coke. The middle-aged man hands her a glass with a smile before moving back to the edge of the bar to continue his conversation with two women there. I’m glad for the privacy. Because I know things are about to get heavy, and I’d rather no one heard us talking.
“So what’s wrong? You look awful,” Emilia states.
I sigh. “I have no fucking clue where to even start.”
“You can start at the beginning,” she replies. “I actually have something to tell you, too. But you look like you have a lot on your mind. Is this about your ex-wife? Marissa, right? She seemed nice.”
“Marissa’s the furthest thing from nice,” I say, huffing out a laugh.
“What’s she like?” Emilia asks curiously.
I pause, staring at her. I guess if I can’t figure out where to start, I might as well start at the beginning.
“She’s feisty. A lot like you, actually. But while you have a lot of kindness in you, Marissa’s not like that. You have a bleeding heart, she’s a spoiled princess. In an endearing sort of way.”
“How did you two meet?”
“At college,” I reply. “Before that, we ran in the same social circles so I knew of her. Her father owns a huge tech company, and she’s his only child, hence the spoiled princess bit. I couldn’t stand her when we first met, but then I got to know her a little and realized she wasn’t so bad. She and I became friends first. There wasn’t any initial attraction. We sort of just grew into our relationship. I think the only reason we started dating was because everyone around us kept telling us that we’d be perfect for each other.”
“Sounds like a recipe for disaster,” Emilia drawls.
“Yeah, it was. But not at first. At first, it was easy. We got married about a year after college. She had her thing and I had my thing and we were fine together. And then she got pregnant.” I blow out a breath, remembering how I felt when I heard that for the first time. “It was an accident. Marissa and I, neither of us wanted kids. We were terrified by the prospect.”
Emilia inhales sharply at that. But when I glance at her, her expression is blank, her eyes attentive. So I continue.
“Sean’s the most important thing in the world to me now, but I think having him was what led to the breakdown in my marriage with Marissa. We suddenly had someone else other than ourselves to think about, and I think we realized that we deserved more than just settling for each other. Or at least she realized that and she made sure I did, too. She’s pushy like that.”
Emilia smiles. “She sounds cool.”
“She is. Even after realizing we weren’t meant for each other, we tried to make it work. Eventually, we just called it quits. Our divorce was pretty amicable. She and I have always been better as friends. I care about her a lot.”
“Why did you call me here, Sterling?” Emilia asks softly.
I look her at then, wishing more than anything not to have to say the next sentence.
“Because I’m leaving.”