Chapter 22
Britain
By the time I finally wake up it’s already one in the afternoon, which feels unbelievable. I don’t exactly feel rested, but I feel better than I did last night. Tossing and turning until I finally threw up at five something was miserable. I haven’t had a migraine that bad in a long time. I look at the nightstand, seeing half a croissant and a few random crackers, and I remember. I can’t help the smile that forms on my face. I love you, Bambi. Gah, it felt so good. He’s always felt so “right” to me. Like comfort and home, but also indescribable passion and burning. He loves me. There’s that sappy ass smile again. Which reminds me, ick, I need a shower and to brush my teeth.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The t-shirt I’m wearing has the MS Group logo embroidered on the left side of the chest. So Matthias knows about me being here and about me being with Liam. I guess I was right in thinking him and me wasn’t a big deal for him. I didn’t want to ask any more questions about Matthias, or his life. I didn’t want Liam to think I still cared. I hate myself a bit that I do still care. I should stop, though. I love Liam. Truly love him. What happened in the past was nothing but a bit of teen melodrama and I overreacted to it all.
After a quick shower and teeth brushing, I head downstairs, arms full with ginger ale and water bottles and my plate. I slip a couple pieces of bread in the toaster and head back upstairs, grabbing a new notebook and my phone. I get comfortable on the eat-in bench, checking my messages. There's a few from the girls, mostly just excited for me to come home. And Elodie wants a photo of Liam. I have another from a number I don’t know.
Unknown
Hi Britain, I know it’s been a long time, but when you get a chance, can you give me a call? -M
What the fuck? Don’t think I’ll be responding to that. If it is who I think it is, there’s nothing on the other end of that line that’s worth the hassle. I’m sure I’ll see him around and have to talk to him eventually, because of Liam. But not today, not any time soon. The queasiness comes back, but this time I just think it’s from the shock of him reaching out to me, something I thought would never happen. Not in a million years.
I grab another water bottle and put peanut butter on my toast before I sit back down and flip open the notebook. There’s a tri-folded piece of paper wedged between the cover and the front page. I open it, surprised to see it’s addressed to me.
Dear Britain,
This notebook is going to be hard to read. For that, I’m sorry. I had to write it at the time, to process what happened, but also to help me remember so that someday you’d know the truth, Alex would know the truth. Since that day, I’ve tried hard to forget what happened, but I couldn’t. I had a living reminder, who looked just like her father. I do want you to know something, though: I never regretted anything that happened that brought you to me. Never. Don’t forget that, okay? I never regretted it. I loved you so much, and I know I struggled to show it because every time I looked at you I could see what I gained and all that I lost. Hopefully when you read this you’ll understand. I love you, baby girl, and I miss you terribly.
Love you forever,
Your mom, Georgia
I set the paper down with trembling hands. Tears are already streaming down my face. Whatever I’m about to read is what I’ve been waiting for, looking for. My stomach is rolling and my heart racing as I look at the first of a multi-paged entry.
May 31, 1987
I thought yesterday was going to be one of the best days of my life, but it ended up being perhaps the worst day I’ve ever lived. The day started mostly normal. I got up, got Alexander and myself ready for the day. I dropped him off at daycare and headed into the office. You were there, and when you saw me you gave me that knowing look, and I felt like everything was going to be alright. We were finally doing it. You were going to tell Julie you were leaving, and I was leaving Ray. We planned it, I thought, perfectly.
At lunch you took me to see the new house. It was perfect, just like we talked about, hidden in the hills, just enough land to be private and to let the boys run wild. We talked about the layout of the garden even. Well, I talked, and you just listened. Smiling like you always do for me. Just for me. At five, we walked to the parking garage together, our plan to meet at the new house at 5:30 with the boys. A night to start the rest of our lives. But that was never to be, was it?
I got home at 5:15, and the house looked a mess. At first it looked burglarized, but I noticed it was just my stuff that was thrown about. A few of our notebooks were sitting open on the kitchen table and I knew, right then, this was not going to go as planned. A few minutes later, Ray stumbled through the front door. I asked him where Alex was. He was supposed to get him from daycare and he said he told him to stay in the car so he could talk to me first. I knew what he meant, so I was ready when he backhanded me, hard. I was prepared for the hit, but it still hurt like the devil.
He pointed to the notebooks and accused me of cheating on him. The irony was he’s probably slept with a dozen women during our marriage, but if I cheated on him, he was going to make me pay. I told him it didn’t matter, that our marriage was over and he needed to leave or I would call the police. He didn’t like that.
He laid into me again. This time with closed fists. He’d only beat me with closed fists once before. All the other times, it was open handed, pushing, kicking. Things that could be covered easily with clothing or makeup. The fists were the worst though, and this time he didn’t care who saw, every punch landed on my face. And every time I’d scream for my life, hoping someone would hear. Anyone. But time went on and nobody came, nobody heard. I was just curled in a ball on the floor as Ray pummeled my stomach with his boot, until he finally stopped.
God, I cried tears of thanks when he stopped, but I was foolish to think that was the end. Next thing I know, he’s slammed me flat on my back on the kitchen floor, pinning down my arms. He’d unbuckled his pants, exposing himself, and I couldn’t stop the sobs that were coming from me. I begged him to stop, to not do this, but he wouldn’t hear me.
He pushed into me as I tried to fight him off. I tried with everything I had, but it wasn’t enough. He raped me on our kitchen floor as I screamed for help. My cries were muffled, though, with snot and blood. Blood from my eye, my nose, my mouth. Ray started yelling at me louder then. He said he wanted to give me one last fuck before he snuffed the life out of me. He took off his shirt, balling it up and using it to suffocate me as he got closer to his climax. I’m sick just thinking how he could do that with me dying beneath him, but he did. He finished as the light started to dim.
When I woke back up, you were there. Pummeling Ray’s face in. Slamming his head against the tile floor. And I heard screaming, until I realized I’m the one who was screaming. You finally stopped when you realized you might kill him with your next blow, and he stumbled back to his feet. You told him to never come back here, ever again. That he needed to leave the state, the city, and never come back, or you’d find him and finish where you left off. The bastard couldn’t do it, though.
He said, ‘Not without my son. I won’t have some stupid bitch raising him.’ He said he’d take me to court for everything I had, that he’d make sure I never saw Alex again. You just looked at me, and for a second I wish you had killed him, because a piece of me died right then, knowing my sweet baby boy would have to live with this monster and I wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop it.
I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t move, so you took care of everything right then. You took Alex over to a neighbor’s, then put Ray in his car with instructions to drive until he ran out of gas. When you came back into the house, I was still laying on the floor. Broken. I didn’t want you to see me. I screamed for you to go away, not to touch me. But you wouldn’t listen, no matter how hard I tried to fight you. You picked me up, putting me in a bath you must have started. And you cleaned all my wounds. Every wound. Even the ones I’m too ashamed to put down on paper.
I don’t think I stopped crying the entire time, and neither did you. I know you knew he hit me, but this was the first time you saw to what extent, and it broke me, having you see me like that. I thought you’d never want to see me again. Who could look at someone like this and still see someone they want?
After you dried me off and put a nightgown on me, you called Sandy to pick up Alexander for a sleepover. You even packed him a backpack with his teddy bear and pjs. If I hadn’t just been raped and beaten within an inch of my life, it would have felt so normal, like it should be, you taking care of me, taking care of our babies.
I finally remembered, and I asked you where Matthias was. You were supposed to bring him to the house. You looked away from me then. For the first time all night, you looked away, and I knew, but I made you tell me anyway. You said Julie found out about us. She called Ray and told him. She made plans for her father to cut ties with your business, kill every deal you were in the process of making. She said she’d do her best to bankrupt you and take Matthias away from his cheating father if you didn’t stay.
You said you didn’t give her an answer, you just left to come for me, worried about what Ray would do. I told you I wished you would have let him kill me. I wished you would’ve come five minutes later because a life without my baby, and without you, isn’t a life worth living. I’d never seen a grown man cry so hard in his life. You begged me to never, ever say those words again. That we’d find a way to be together, all of us. But you’re a liar, Constantine. We’ll never get to be together. Because I’m me and you’re you. We’re from two different worlds, fighting two different battles. The biggest difference is people from my side of the railroad tracks don’t win.
I run to the powder room and empty my stomach until my throat burns and my body has nothing left to give. At some point the retching turns to sobs, and I sob with my head planted on the toilet seat for some unknown amount of time.
My father raped my mom. That’s how I came to be? How foolish was I to to think my father was some prince when it was actually the devil himself. I know everything she wrote in this is true, it makes everything make sense. Why Ray would never acknowledge my existence, why he took Alexander to Arizona with him.
The second revelation hits me: Constantine. Matthias. My mom was in love with Constantine, Matthias’ dad. And his mom, Julie, is the reason for my existence. If she hadn’t told Ray about the affair, I may not have been born. I feel dirty, like the unwanted byproduct of a very fucked up incident that I am. I feel like I’m going to be sick all over again.
I’ve felt out of place my entire life, like I didn’t belong, and now I know why. I didn’t belong. I never had a family. I wasn’t born or conceived out of love, I was born out of misfortune and pain. It all fucking makes sense now, why Georgia always kept me at arms length, why Alex never accepted me fully, why my father never wanted me. No one wanted me. I don’t know how I still have tears left, but I cry and cry with my head on the toilet for hours.
“Oh my god, Britain. Are you okay!?” Liam falls to his knees and pulls me into his chest. I don’t have any strength left to do or say otherwise. In fact, I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than for him to just hold me, love me. Because he loves me. I may not have been wanted or loved in my adolescence, but I do know I can trust Liam. When he says he loves me, he means it. I cry harder into his chest as he just strokes the top of my head over and over.
“What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me, please,” he pleads with me.
“Georgia’s journal. I, uh…” I don’t know if I can say it. Saying it out loud to someone else makes it real, and the pain of that feels insurmountable right now. “I, I can’t say it. You can go look at it if you want. It’s still on the kitchen table.” He releases me, walking into the eat-in. After a few minutes he’s back, face drained of color.
“I know you can do the math, but May 30th plus 9 months would put you right around late February.” I motion with my hand towards myself, tears still falling off my face onto the hardwood floor. “I’ve wanted to know, my whole life, why things were how they were. Between me and Georgia, and Ray, and Alexander, and now that I know, I also know why they say be careful what you wish for. That you just might get it.” I wish I didn’t know. God, I wish I didn’t.
“I’m so sorry, Britain,” Liam says as he drops back down to the floor, pulling me into him again. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispers to me over and over again.
“Did you know about Constantine and Georgia? That they had an affair?” His body tenses. He doesn’t need to answer for me to know.
His response is solemn, “I did.” I just nod my head.
“You never thought to tell me, though?” I know this is a bit misplaced, but I can’t help the hurt flowing through me right now. The sting from a life plagued with omissions and lies.
“It wasn’t my place to say. If you would have asked me, I wouldn’t have lied to you, but I didn’t know if that was something Georgia or Constantine wanted to share. It was between them, but I am sorry I didn’t tell you before now.” He’s right, it wasn’t his place. I know it. I know it’s wrong of me to try to place any blame or fault on him. If Liam knows, that means Sandy knows. Rose, too, probably. Even Matthias. Matthias. I need to get up.
“Babe,” I tap his arm that’s banded around my waist, “I need to get up.” He releases me, and I head straight for the table, picking up my phone. I pull up the unknown message and ask, “Does this number sound familiar?” I read it off for him and he blanches, his stance going rigid, his expression turning, no longer soft and sympathetic. “Why?” is all he asks.
“I got a text message from this number asking me to call. It was just signed ‘M.’ I’m pretty sure it was Matthias, but I couldn’t figure out why he would need me to call.”
“That’s Matt’s number.” Just like I thought. He says his name in such a way I’m reminded that Georgia and I were the only ones who ever called him by his full name. “Listen, babe, I need you to sit down. I have to tell you something.” He’s doing the thing he does when he’s nervous, bouncing the palm of his hand against his leg.
“Okay, I’m sure whatever it is can’t be worse than what I just found out about my conception. What’s wrong?” I’m worried. He looks horrified, and nervous. I've got the sick feeling, that old gut instinct, but there’s no way. Liam wouldn’t have cheated on me. When would he have the time? He’s been fucking me twice a day like clockwork for the last five weeks. Five weeks. My stomach drops, but our little situation is quickly interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.
“Hi, guys! It’s just me!” Carly calls out from the entry like she always does when she comes in, her polite warning.
Liam just drops his head, whispering under his breath, “Shit.”
“We’re in the kitchen!” he calls out to her.
She comes in carrying a cake box and bags of prepared food. “I cooked over at Sandy’s for you guys. She said Britain had a migraine, so I didn’t want to make a bunch of noise in the kit-” She pauses when she finally looks up, taking in what surely looks like an awkward scene. Me, puffy eyed and swollen face, my hair crazy from air drying. Liam stoic and sullen, towering over me in the chair.
I break the tension. “Hi, Carly. I’m actually feeling a lot better, but thanks for being so considerate. I’m so glad I get to see you before I have to leave,” I say with a weak smile. She returns my smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, she knows something’s up. Liam still hasn’t said anything or moved from his spot. Carly just holds up the cake box, asking him, “Do you want this in the mudroom fridge?” Liam just responds with a silent nod. What is going on?
While Carly slips out the back hallway, I turn to him and ask, “What is going on? I feel like you’re about to tell me somebody just died.” My question startles him a bit, some of the dread leaving his expression.
“I’m sorry, baby. Just a rough day at work, didn’t mean to bring it home. I’m just really worried about you, that’s all.”
“That’s what I needed to sit down for you to tell me? That you had a bad day at work?” Bullshit. Carly’s back before he can respond.
“Alright, guys, you’re all set. I’ll see you in a little bit!” She gives me a wink, heading straight for the front door. I didn’t even get to hug her goodbye. I turn to Liam in question.
“I’m supposed to take you to Colton’s tonight, as a going away thing from Rick and Sandy. That’s what I was getting ready to tell you, that we don’t have to go. Not with your migraine or with what you just found out.” I wasn’t expecting that.
“Oh, okay. Um, I don’t know. What time are we supposed to be there?”
“8:00.”
“As much as I don’t want to go anywhere or see anyone, I think a bit of distraction might help? But so would sleep…is there any way we can do it tomorrow night instead?” Liam seems to weigh this heavily.
“I’m sure we could work that out. I want you to feel better, that’s what’s important.”
“Yeah, I just need some sleep, and probably a gallon of water.” I laugh lightly, making my temples throb. “I’m going to head upstairs, okay?” He’s still standing by the kitchen table, but he’s somewhere else.
“Of course.” He grabs my hand as I stand up to head for the stairs, “Britain?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.” He says it so softly, sincerely, I can’t help but smile.
“I love you, too.” But he doesn’t smile back after I say it. He gives me a worried look and that feeling, that pit at the bottom of my stomach, grows. I’m too exhausted to work through anything more today.
Tomorrow. I’ll deal with this tomorrow.