Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
ENFIELD
Parents should never have a favorite child. I don’t. I love all my kids equally. However, I tend to spend more time with Ronan and Theodora. Theodora, because she’s an infant, and they grow so damn fast. I want her to recognize me.
Ronan, because he doesn’t get the parental attention and care that he should have. As I’m sitting on the video call with Lissander, I think about how obvious this is.
Lissander is sixteen months younger than Ronan, but his vocabulary and reasoning skills are easily twice as advanced as Ronan’s.
This is easily the result of better parenting.
Amelia is constantly talking to Lissander, teaching him with almost every interaction.
Not in a way that means Lissander doesn’t have fun.
I’ve never seen a kid filled with as many smiles as Lissander is.
Ronan is an electronics kid. He watches television, his tablet, or a phone from the time he wakes up until the time he goes to sleep, so Courtney doesn’t have to deal with him.
Most of his vocabulary he gets from shows.
His understanding of conversations is good enough, but his conversational skills are poor.
That was made incredibly evident when I took my boys out to breakfast with Sarah and Theodora. I’m thankful Lissander was patient. In a way, he was the big brother, even though he’s younger.
I have a feeling that when I finally get my kid out of Courtney’s house and see just how behind my son is from his peers, I’m going to resent the fuck out of her.
I get it. I screwed up. Fuck knows, the only reason Courtney kept the pregnancy was because I begged her and promised to provide for both of them.
At the time, I thought that was the answer. The answer to everything. In hindsight, I know it was a mistake if I wasn’t going to take my baby and give him the life he deserves once I realized she wasn’t going to.
Wrongfully, I thought that she’d change her mind when this was her kid. She’d magically love being a parent. She’d rise to the occasion.
Societal brainwashing right there. Some women don’t want to be parents, and that’s okay. What’s not okay is for asshats like me to force it on them.
I stare at Lissander as he reads to me. He’s not actually reading. He’s going page by page and telling me a story based on what he sees in the illustrations. It’s a far more thorough and imaginative story than the dozen words on each page.
In the background, Amelia is a blurry shape as the camera focuses on my boy in the foreground. She’s sitting on the floor with her laptop in her lap, legs spread out in front of her, ankles crossed. She has a notebook at her side and a pen between her lips.
She’s almost always with Lissander. They work together during the day. As Amelia works, Lissander does workbooks between playing. He has a boatload of learning toys that he has a blast with. My baby boy is smart as a damn whip.
“Done,” Lissander says as he closes the book.
“Nice job, Lissy. Great story,” I say.
He grins. “Want ’nother one, Daddy?”
“I’d love another.”
Lissander beams and pushes his chair back.
“Another,” Amelia corrects.
“Ah-nother,” Lissander repeats as if it’s two separate words.
“Why don’t you grab your library books?”
“Yeah!” Lissander exclaims. He takes the book from the small table we were sitting at and disappears. “Where they are, Mommy?”
“Couch,” Amelia calls back, her eyes not rising from her laptop.
“Thanks,” Lissander calls back, his voice further away now.
“Welcome.”
I love seeing them interact. These everyday moments where I can actually see their relationship. In the same way that these moments confirm that Courtney and Ronan aren’t in a healthy parent-child relationship, they confirm that Amelia and Lissander are.
My fingers tap against my leg as I stare at Amelia, but think about Ronan. I need to get him out of that house. As soon as this situation is over. I’ll cut Courtney free to live her life without the obligations of a child and give Ronan the home he should have had all along.
Lissander reappears. He sets a stack of books on the table and upends the tablet. “Oops,” he says, giggling.
“You got it?” Amelia asks.
“Yep.” The world spins and rights. Lissander pulls his hands away, and the tablet falls forward. He laughs again and tries once more. The world spins all over the place so much that I look away. “Mommy, I need help.”
“Okay.”
I watch again as the world settles, and I’m looking at Amelia’s stomach until she backs away. “Better.”
“Yep, thanks.”
Amelia kisses the top of his head. “You’re welcome.” She looks at me and does a double-take. Probably taking note of my split lip. She doesn’t say anything, though. She wouldn’t, not in front of Lissander.
“This one?” Lissander asks as he holds up a book.
“Looks good, Lissy.”
He nods and spreads it open in front of him. His storytelling is superb. I love everything about it. Until he stops abruptly and stares at the page. Then he’s on his feet. “Need to potty.”
I chuckle as he runs off. “Zero to a hundred in three seconds,” I say.
Amelia laughs. She joins me at the child-sized table, which means her knees are above the surface as she sits in the little chair. “He’s still learning to recognize when he needs to go, so yeah. He’s good right up until he’s not.”
“Potty training is going well, then?”
She nods. “Yep. He’s had dry nights for the past two weeks, though we’re still wearing Pull-Ups. He doesn’t like them during the day, but I think he’s afraid of wetting the bed at night.”
“I’m proud of him.”
Amelia smiles. “So am I. Now let’s talk about the fight you got into. What am I going to see if I search the headlines?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. I was punched for being an asshole.”
“Ah. So you deserved it?”
“I did,” I agree.
“That all you’re going to give me?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. I seriously don’t want to talk about it.”
Lissander comes back into the room and holds his hands up when he’s in frame. “I washed my hands,” he says, and we can all see that they’re still damp.
“Good. Did you flush? Wipe?”
Lissander nods. “Yes, Mommy.”
“Go get a juice box, okay? You haven’t had much to drink today.”
“Okay.” Lissander looks at me with a big smile and then disappears again.
I know when he’s out of the room because Amelia looks at me again. “Are you in jail again?”
Snorting, I shake my head. “No. I promise things are changing soon. Once I get back. Just trust me.”
She stares at me, her head nodding minutely as she considers me in silence. “Okay. Don’t end up with a black eye. I don’t particularly want to explain that to Sander.”
“I’ll try not to.” I don’t make a promise, though. I’m not even sure who that guy is. I haven’t run into him or Xavi again in the last two days, and while I don’t seek them out, I can’t guarantee that if I do run into them, the guy won’t hit me again.
I don’t blame him in the least, of course. I deserved that, hands down.
Lissander returns. Amelia waits to see if he needs help with the straw—he doesn’t—before she returns to her seat, and I return to listening to my three-year-old son read to me for another hour.
When I get off the call, I close my eyes. I miss my kids. I miss hugs. I miss their little hands in mine.
My door opens a little further as if a breeze caught it. Or a ghost. I’ve seen ghostly clips where doors open like that. I stare at it and practically jump out of my skin when Shapi jumps onto the end of the bed.
“Jesus,” I mutter, scratching my chest over my heart. He settles on his little paws, and his big, fluffy body crouches down as he stares at me, eyes slit. Damn cat glares. Yeah, dude. None of us are happy with this situation. Glaring at me and wishing for my death isn’t going to change it, though.
I’m apparently so unsettled by Shapi’s sudden appearance that I’m startled again when my phone rings. I glare right back at the cat.
I’ve managed to block all the numbers my parents call from so far. I’m not answering unknown numbers either. However, this is my cousin.
“Hey,” I answer.
“What’s up?” Rice asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing new. Miserable. Grumpy. I have a cat glaring daggers at me right now.”
He laughs. “Yeah?”
“Big orange cat, too. Aren’t they the unhinged breed of domestic cats? I think I read that somewhere.”
Rice laughs again. “Yeah, I’ve heard something about that.”
“I’m going to die in my sleep from this cat,” I mutter.
“I take it things haven’t improved.”
“How do you expect it to improve, Rice? This isn’t something I’m going to suddenly decide I can live with. I’m not gay. I’m not going to wake up one morning and decide to give it a go.”
“I don’t know. Rafe might have some pointers on giving it a go.”
I grumble, which only warrants more laughter from him.
“I’m only teasing you,” Rice says. “I don’t care what your sexuality is, and I don’t think you need to give anything a go if you’re not interested. I guess I’m trying to make you feel a little better.”
“Thanks,” I say, sighing.
“Look. There is something I wanted you to think about.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ve been given a raw deal. I can’t even begin to express how mortified we all are for you.
The defense your parents spew is just… Fine, you should have read it.
But they shouldn’t have sent your signed contract along without telling you.
I agree; they tricked you. There’s zero reason one of them couldn’t have just said three simple words—he’s a guy. ”
“I don’t need to think about that. I already know.”
“Shut up and listen to me.”
I huff.
“This is fucked up. We all know that. We all agree with you. We’re on your side. Also, Ryanne said that Mom lost her shit on your dad when she learned what he and Aunt Betty did to you.”
Okay, that makes me smile. My dad and Aunt Marjorie are super close, so if Aunt Marjorie is yelling at my dad, I feel a little vindicated.
“However, I know you, and I know you’re shit at not taking out your moods on those around you. Especially concerning this contract business. Which means I’m going to guess you’ve been a bit of a jerk toward the guy you’re contracted to marry.”
I nod, though I don’t agree. I’ve tried polite indifference. But Xavi wants to talk and be friends and shit and… yeah, I didn’t handle that well, though I’m not sure how I was supposed to handle it and remain politely indifferent.
“Please know that my next words aren’t negating the fact that you’re a victim of this situation, Enfield.
The one person involved in this who did nothing wrong is your betrothed.
He’s the real victim in all this. He read his contract.
He agreed to a marriage and a life with someone.
He didn’t ask for a straight man with a chip on his shoulder, hating the world and everyone in it.
I get that you’re angry, but he is the real victim here, Enfield.
I’m not telling you to give it a go; I’m suggesting that you take that into consideration when you talk to him.
You can be angry at everyone, but he’s the one person who doesn’t deserve your anger. ”
My shoulders sag. “I know. I might not have thought about it in those words, but you’re right, and I know that. I swear I’m not trying to treat him like shit.”
“But you are, aren’t you?”
I’m about to deny it, but it was only two days ago that I made him burst into tears. “Not intentionally.”
“Think about what he’s going through, cousin.
While you’re not alone in your abhorrence of the contracts, you’re actually not the rule in the situation.
I was excited to meet Annie and begin our life together.
Royal is too cool to be excited, but we all know that he’s absolutely head over heels for Beatrice.
He’s fucking loving being a husband. Your brother and sister were the same way.
I’m willing to bet that your fiancé is like us and not like you.
So think about what he’s probably going through right now. Think about how he’s feeling.”
I try to do as he suggests, but I can’t fathom wanting this future. “Explain it to me. How do you think he’s feeling?”
“Off the top of my head, I think I’d be devastated.
All the plans I had for my future with a happy, loving husband and family to come are suddenly not happening.
Instead, I’m stuck with a miserable jerk—a straight jerk—and I’m probably imagining that I’m going to be alone and unhappy for the rest of my life.
That’s not what I signed up for, and it’s not fair that this is what I was given. ”
My eyes close, and I sigh heavily. But he’s not finished. Rice continues, and each word is another punch. This time, in my chest and gut.
“No fairy-tale wedding. Not waking up next to someone I love. Not falling in love. No making memories we’ll look back on in ten, twenty years and think about how much more I love this person.
All the new relationship joy, getting to know the love of my life, and no building a life together.
No days filled with laughter and nights filled with passion. ”
“Okay, okay,” I say. “I guess I never wanted that, so yeah… It’s never occurred to me.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Enfield.
As I was talking to Annie about how raw a deal you got, she immediately began putting herself in your guy’s shoes, and so, I started thinking about that.
I knew you didn’t, though. Just as you said.
This isn’t something you want. It’s not something you’ve ever wanted.
Which means you probably don’t know or understand what he’s going through.
Again, I’m not negating the fact that you got a shitty deal, and you were tricked into this bullshit, but he’s the real victim in this. ”
“You’re right. He is. But Rice, what am I supposed to do about it?”
“I don’t know. I wish I had a magic solution for you.
I’m not telling you to make you feel bad.
I’m telling you this because I think you need to take into account how he’s feeling before you’re an asshole to him again.
Neither of you asked for this, but one of you wanted the future promised, and now that dream is shattered. ”