Chapter 4 #2
I went stiff and watched my father over his girlfriend’s shoulder.
He just stood there, watching us with his customary impassivity.
I decided to ignore him, and, after a few moments, I returned his girlfriend’s gesture of affection.
I had, after all, come to a certain accord with Mia while we were all dealing with the trauma of Logan’s accident.
In that situation, we had come together like a real family.
“I’m so glad to see you again,” she murmured into my hair, but I didn’t respond.
I had promised her that we would try to be “friends,” but I still wasn’t ready for such blatant displays of affection.
“Mia.” My father put a hand on her shoulder to disrupt our embrace, which had already gone on longer than he was expecting. He probably sensed my discomfort. He did know me, after all, and knew how I was.
Mia reddened and took a step back, nervously fixing her hair. Matt asked her to join my mother on the sofa, then fixed me again with that cryptic stare, ready to resume our conversation.
“You can’t just go out without telling your mother where you’re going when visitors are expected. I came here today to make sure you’re okay, not to take a vacation or waste my time,” he lectured me, standing right there in front of the two women who had gone head over heels for him.
One in the past; one in the present.
I glanced away from his face to look at my mother, who shook her head, silently urging me not to fight with him and to be reasonable. I could practically hear her voice, begging me to keep my cool.
“Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do?” I answered, dashing all my mother’s hopes.
“Your father,” he snapped back sternly. “And someone who is worried about you,” he added.
“Oh, since when?” I pasted on a sarcastic grin.
“Since always,” he answered, sounding exhausted. The defensive walls I’d erected around myself were too thick, even for him. He’d been trying for years to break them down to no avail, and now even a short period of distance between us had me feeling all the same hollowness I’d felt as a child.
I stared into his eyes, and I could see the love he felt for me there, but once again, I chose the simplest path. Denying that love both to myself and to him. Denying us a second chance.
“I’m here today—” He paused. “Actually, we are here”—he gestured to his girlfriend with his index finger—”for two reasons.” I tried to listen silently to him to avoid arguing again.
“First, because I wanted to see you. You don’t answer my calls; you don’t tell me anything about yourself or your health.
I don’t care if we’re living far apart; I would go to the ends of the earth to see you.
” His voice took on a strange tone, and I could see a tiny crack forming in the ice of his resolute personality.
“Second, it’s going to be my birthday in a few days.
” He said it like a child gearing up to ask his parents for an impossible present.
“I’m not in the mood for a party, a formal dinner, or anything like that.
The best gift I could receive would be getting to spend a few days with you,” he finished, his voice small. My eyes bulged at this insane request.
Matt wanted me to be his birthday present?
Really wasn’t expecting that.
“What?” I muttered, petrified and more than a little incredulous.
“I want to go on a trip, just you and me. Do you remember your grandparents’ house on the shore?”
I gulped, and my heart rocked back and forth like it was on a teeter-totter.
Of course I remembered it. It was my paternal grandparents’ home, and I used to love spending my summers there, collecting shells by the sea and gorging myself on hot dogs from the nearby boardwalk.
I couldn’t hide the gleam in my eyes because that place was home to some of my most beautiful childhood memories.
But I’d only ever gone there during the summer.
The weather there in autumn and winter definitely wasn’t suited to spending long days outdoors.
“I already checked the forecast. We won’t be able to go swimming, of course, but we’ll still be able to enjoy the beach and the views. The house’s heating system is good. I’ve already thought of everything,” he explained enthusiastically.
It was as though he were reading my mind, ready to nullify whatever objections I had.
“Your company will be my birthday gift. Can you do that, at least, for me?” He said it softly, hopeful that I would agree.
I looked from my father back to the two women on the sofa. My mother smiled while Mia stood up and clapped her hands joyfully.
“It’ll just be one weekend. On Saturday, you two will be alone, and then on Sunday, the boys, Chloe, and I will join you,” she put in cheerfully.
“It’ll be the perfect opportunity for all of us to spend time together,” Matt continued.
Oh, perfect. So I’d be trapped with him for one day and then with the whole family for the next?
Would Neil be there as well?
Another “no” was on the tip of my tongue, but then my mother intervened, moving closer to me.
“Selene, the doctor says you are doing well, and it’s no problem if you decide to travel or leave home for a while.
You can bring all your medication with you,” she suggested.
The doctor had prescribed some pain medication in case the headaches got too intense or persistent, but there was nothing that would limit or halt my everyday activities.
I was lucky to be doing so well, even if my sleep was occasionally disrupted by nightmares about the trauma I’d experienced.
That was something I still hadn’t told anyone about.
Interpreting my silence as acquiescence, my mother smiled at me and gave Matt a conspiratorial look.
“And you really should do something for your father. After all, this is his second forty-ninth birthday,” she teased, and Mia burst out laughing.
She patted her boyfriend’s shoulder while he regarded both women with a serious frown.
“Hey, I’ve still got it,” he answered in kind.
“Undoubtedly,” my mother agreed, rolling her eyes. Because if there was anything that Matt still “had” after all these years, it was definitely his enormous ego.
***
I finally agreed to Matt’s suggestion that I spend the weekend with him and his family.
I ruminated on the decision for a long time, not just because of the contentious relationship between my father and myself but also because I was afraid of encountering Neil again.
My heart sank when I thought about spending twenty-four hours in his company.
The closer he got, the fuzzier my head got, and I was afraid he’d turn that mysterious stare on me, and I would forget about all the ways he had disappointed me.
And if he came on to me in his twisted way, I would have given in because I already knew how impossible it was to resist him.
Somehow, Neil was in my blood now, and I couldn’t honestly tell myself that I didn’t want to see him again.
To be perfectly honest, I had been looking for him in the face of every man I saw and listening for his voice on the air.
His lingering presence in my mind was oppressive.
He was a fantasy or a dream that had me constantly drifting away into another world where I knew nothing but my carnal desire for him and my determination to uncover all of his secrets.
But Neil wasn’t like other guys; he was not a man with typical appetites. He was incapable of developing human relationships. He was unmanageable and unknowable. He was a cynical, twisted bastard, and he had demonstrated that amply for me.
Did I want to let him keep hurting me? Or humiliating me?
After all, the more days passed by, the more I suspected he had forgotten about my existence entirely.
I continued to hope for a call, but he wasn’t chasing me. He wouldn’t. He’d been very clear with me in the hospital: I was nothing and no one to him.
So why then had I seen desire in his eyes?
A longing to touch and kiss me? Neil had trouble expressing himself with words, and he hated to talk, so his eyes had always done the communicating for him.
I had learned to read them well and, from what I had seen, it looked like he was forcing himself to put distance between us, but that it wasn’t what he really wanted to do.
That was another reason I’d accepted Matt’s offer.
Plus, if the right moment arose, I would tell Neil about Player and confess the truth about the accident. And I needed to know whether his coldness was just another psychological barrier he created to wound me or if I really didn’t mean anything to him.
I cursed my emotions, a hurricane, a storm of feeling that had only one name: Neil Miller.
“Good, very good.” Dr. Burke’s voice brought me back to the present moment. She was testing how my pupils reacted to light. “Perfect,” she continued, checking my left eye.
I was sitting on an exam table in my Detroit neurologist’s office because my mother had suggested I get a checkup before flying out for the weekend.
“How are the headaches?” she asked, holding out a hand to help me to my feet. I thanked her and considered the question.
“They’re still pretty frequent,” I answered, a little disappointed.
“Are you noting them all down in your journal?” she asked, walking over to her desk and resting her palms flat on the wooden surface as she waited for my response. My mother stood next to her with her purse clutched tight and a concerned look on her face.
“Yup, just like you told me to.”