Chapter 10 #2
For a moment, neither of them moved. Outside, icy rain slid down the window, warping the golden light of the room into wavering shapes on the floor.
Her father's voice, when it finally came, was raw.
"You don't know what it was like. Loving someone and then losing.
.." He broke off, his face turned away, the lines around his mouth deepening.
"It's easier sometimes to erase the past than to live with pieces that never fit.
" He sat back down heavily, rubbing his brow as if he could smooth away years of pain.
Kadian drew in another breath, steadying herself. "I'm not leaving because I want to hurt you," she said softly. "I'm leaving because I need something for myself. Just one week. A week to remember who I am outside these walls."
He closed his eyes, the flush of righteous anger replaced by something more fragile.
After a moment, he nodded, imperceptibly.
He teetered towards guilt and almost blurted the truth.
That everything was inside his head, that he had believed the lie he told himself to feel better, that same lie that had cost him everything.
But the bitterness inside him was too strong, had lived too long, had thrived over the years and became a part of him.
He couldn't tell her that Kathy had been too good for him and because of it, he had grown to resent her.
"You always reminded me of her. That's why it hurts so much. "
"I'm sorry for it." She started to reach out to him and then changed her mind. Instead, she spun back around to pour the tea.
"I cannot lose you." His whispered voice had her clenching her fingers around the cup.
"I never told you how much I appreciate the sacrifice you made, coming back here and staying with me.
You made the business into something that I couldn't. I never had the knack of making a profit.
This place was on the brink of becoming bankrupt and you saved it.
Maybe I resent the fact that you did what I couldn't."
She turned to face him and felt her heart quaking with pity. He looked old and haggard and whatever she might be feeling at this moment, he was still her dad, and she loved him.
"It wasn't a sacrifice." She sighed and realized that was not quite true. It had been before she met Leon, before her life changed.
She set the cup down with a clink, her movements careful, as if anything louder might shatter their fragile truce. The silence between them now was quieter, more companionable, stitched together by the old ache of things unsaid and the tentative threads of understanding.
Kadian glanced over her shoulder, the teapot in her hand, and caught her father watching her with eyes rimmed red, but clearer than she remembered. The storm outside seemed to ease its relentless tapping for a heartbeat.
"I didn't mean for things to turn out this way," he said, voice rough but honest. "I wanted you to have everything, prove to her that I could be the man she wanted me to be. Or I wanted to be for her. And in trying too hard, I squeezed too tight."
She let the tea steep, steam curling like a memory in the air. "Maybe we both did, in our own ways." Her voice was low, but steady.
He nodded, the gesture small but full of years.
"You should take your week, Kadian. Take whatever you need.
" His gaze drifted to the faded curtains, the corners of his mouth twitching in a half-remembered smile.
Calculating, he decided to change tactics.
If he didn't, she might just decide to go away and never return.
He would play the part of the ailing, yet loving dad, who wanted what's best for her.
He knew her very well, knew that the guilt would tug at her when she was gone and if he managed to end up in the hospital with some sort of injury, then that's the break.
He would let her have her week, let her go and then reel her back in.
"If you come back, I'll try to be better. For you. For her."
Kadian managed a faint smile of her own, something easing inside her chest. She poured the tea, the aroma filling the room with a sense of hearth and history. For the first time in what felt like ages, she allowed herself to hope that perhaps, after so much winter, a thaw might finally come.
They sat together in the quiet, the storm retreating beyond the window, and shared their tea. Each sip an unspoken promise to try again.
*****
Much later inside her room and blissfully unaware of what her father was thinking, she picked up her phone and shot off a text to Leon.
She had thought about calling him with the good news but decided that it was not time to heal their wounds yet.
He had left her standing there staring after him, left her with some sort of ultimatum and hurt her with careless words.
She had her pride too. Yes, he was frustrated with the way things were progressing or not progressing, but he had been the one to suggest the secrecy. He knew what he was getting into.
But like a typical man, he had decided all on his own that it no longer suited him.
And had gone off alone to sulk. Not to mention the fact that he had had lunch with a former lover.
She had yet to decide if that was all they did together.
And if she found out otherwise... She huffed out a breath and determined not to allow anything to spoil her euphoric mood, she wandered into her closet to select what she would be taking with her.
She had never been to Scotland and was looking forward to going.
*****
He read her text the next morning. And he was about to call her but stopped himself. He was still upset and did not want to give her the impression that it was all good between them. When it wasn't. Not by a long shot.
He had some things to see to before the trip. Meetings to reschedule. Trips to push back. He could have taken her to Japan where the deal for the high-end cars would have been ideally negotiated in person.
But for some reason, he cannot explain, he wanted the magic of the high rolling hills, the magic of the open spaces.
He wanted to just recapture the romance, not that there was any lack of it.
But he wanted something softer, gentler.
He wanted them away from this place with all the stress.
He wanted to stop being so damn angry all the time.
He was supposed to be happy, instead he was miserable and couldn't find his balance.
Could not settle. The story his father had told him had not been repeated, not even to his sister and it was festering like an open sore.
He wanted to tell her and was going to find a way to do so over the week they were together.
He also did not want to spoil their time together. His gut clenched at the foreboding feeling that washed over him.
No. Shaking his head, he picked up the folder and got to work.
*****
She spent the early morning wrapped in anticipation, her suitcase open on the bed and an array of hopeful outfits scattered across the covers.
Every so often, she paused to consider which version of herself she wanted to present on this trip.
Someone carefree and spontaneous, or measured and impenetrable?
She settled on a bit of both, packing sturdy boots alongside silk dresses, as if she could straddle the line between adventure and elegance.
When her phone chimed with Leon's reply, just a brief, polite acknowledgment, she stared at the screen, lips pressed into a thin smile.
So, this is how it would be, at least for now.
She would not chase after crumbs of affection, not when the promise of open skies and ancient castles waited just beyond the horizon.
By the time the sun had peeped over the horizon, she found herself at the window, watching clouds scudding over the city's rooftops, her thoughts drifting to green fields and stone cottages.
If Scotland was to be an escape, she would seize it with both hands.
Let the past remain unspoken for a little longer.
She would step onto that plane with hope stitched into every seam of her coat, determined to let the wild beauty of the Highlands untangle the knots inside her, even if only for a fleeting while.
She carried the same positive energy when she sailed into the kitchen to put the coffee on. Stunned, she stopped just inside the doorway to see that her father had beat her to it. He not only was measuring the beans into the filter, but he had a pot of oatmeal bubbling on the stove.
"I..." She gestured with one hand, the scent of coffee and cinnamon oatmeal stirring her taste buds. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" he asked briskly, moving from counter to stove.
During a long restless night, charged with bitterness and resentment, he had laid out his ground plans.
And this was part of it. "What does it look like?
" He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit.
"I decided to start pulling my weight around here.
You were right. I had taken you for granted. I want things to change between us."
She wandered in and sat down, not quite sure what to make of it all. He looked incongruous with her apron tucked into the waistband of his khaki pants and he had a pleasant expression on his face.
"Dad, I didn't mean for you to be cooking meals."
"Why not?" he clucked. Coming over, he poured her a cup of coffee. "I think I still remember the way your mother used to cook the oatmeal." Turning away, he got out bowls.
Picking up the coffee, Kadian felt happiness spearing through her body. Surely this meant that he was open to her news. She would wait until they were back, of course, before imparting it. Settling back, she prepared to enjoy the breakfast he had prepared.