Chapter 45 Conrad
Conrad
Once the weekend was over, I spent any time I wasn’t in class on the water. It was the only place I could clear my mind, and the blistering chill was a welcome anesthetic.
The scent of firewood burning in the distance mixed with the salty breeze as I neared the shoreline. After an hour out on the bay, the cold had settled in my bones and I rowed back to the pier, feeling more grounded than I’d been in almost seventy-two hours.
After I heaved the dripping shell onto the outdoor stand, I rounded the path, and my heart stumbled.
Sitting on the boat house steps, wrapped in a wool coat, gloves, winter boots, and an adorable knit hat that covered the tops of her ears, was Malena. I couldn’t help noting that it was the first time I’d ever seen her dressed in weather-appropriate clothing.
She watched with a cautious smile as I neared the steps. “I figured I’d find you here.”
“And here I am.” My muscles, regaining feeling, began to tremble. I walked around her and opened the door, motioning her in. She nodded and tucked her phone in her pocket as she passed me. “Only one?”
I hadn’t picked up her calls because I was in no shape to talk to her all weekend. And a little because I was terrified of what she planned to say.
“Oh… umm. Yeah,” she stammered. “Just the one, for good.”
I wanted to be angry with her. Because, fuck, it hurt. But more than anything, I wanted to kiss her. I wanted an explanation, and then I wanted to take her home.
My tone softened at the edges. “Mal.”
“I wrote the article. A new version.” With her back to me, she walked between the two rows of neatly stacked sculls. “I sent it to you to look over before I submit it.”
My heart sank realizing where this was going. And it stung worse than before. “We haven’t finished.”
“I know, but…” She refused to look at me. She played with her fingers and glanced up at the ceiling, her eyes following the wooden beams. “We have a deadline.”
“That’s three weeks away,” I added. We’d had this conversation once already, so I knew where it led. But this time, I wasn’t sure I could pull a random lead out of my hat like before.
She took another extended pause, then a deep breath. “I’m trying to be practical,” she said resolutely, turning to me. “And I owed you that, with our deal and all.”
“Of all the things you owe me, the last thing I care about is the deal.” Un-fucking-believable pain swelled in my chest. She was here to tie up loose ends.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice hitched. “I shouldn’t have lied to you. I just… I dunno. I didn’t think it would turn into what it did or that I’d…” She sucked in a swath of cool air. “I’m sorry. You deserve a lot more than I gave you.”
She said it with such finality that it was clear: she didn’t think we had a way forward.
“Yeah, I do.” My jaw flexed against the soreness that’d sunk into my body.
“It was never about lying to you. I share my location with my parents, and as you saw for yourself on Friday night, they’re not what you’d call open-minded.
” She rubbed her gloved hands together, and it took everything in me not to close the two feet of distance and pull her into my arms. “That’s why I had two phones,” she continued.
“So I could live my life but also the one they expect me to. I needed the Keller win, not just because I wanted to pursue writing, but because I needed it to fund—”
“Your double life?”
Mal nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me any of that before?”
“At first, I didn’t think this would go anywhere…”
“And then?” I demanded, because we were together. She’d been around all the people that were important to me. She’d met the Rutherfords, for Christ’s sake. Eleanor hadn’t stopped asking if Malena would be joining us in St. Moritz this winter, and I’d stupidly thought she might.
I never pushed the subject of her family, thinking she’d come around, open up in her own time.
“And then I knew the truth would end things because I was going to be made to choose. What they want or what I want.” Her eyes became glassy, but she blinked the emotion away. “I just…” She faltered. “I wasn’t ready to let you go.”
I swallowed against the painful truth. “But you are now?”
I’d fallen hard for her these last few weeks. I’d been thinking about stupid things, like hoping she went to med school close by while being open to long distance if she didn’t. I was painting a version of my life with her in it because I’d never felt this way before.
And the entire time, it wasn’t real. And she knew it never would be.
“My family is…” Her eyes shuttered. “They’re the only one I have.”
What the hell could I say to that?
I couldn’t be angry with her for choosing her family. I lived a pretty charmed life, and I’d never been put in the position she was in.
She’d made her decision. And if there was one thing I knew about Mal it was that once she committed to something, she wasn’t easily swayed away. Especially not by me.
“That Mal…” She took a few steps toward the door.
“The one who forced you into helping her. The one who dragged you through the catacombs. That’s the real one.
I just…” The lines along her slender neck shifted with a hard swallow.
She looked at the floor and ran a finger under her eye. “I can’t be her all the time.”
For years I’d wondered how my mom stayed with my dad, let herself shrink down in the face of his disappointments.
And while I could empathize with Mal’s situation—and I knew she was nothing like my father—it all made a little more sense now.
Because a part of me wanted to live in the lie and pretend it was the truth.
Because inside the lie, things were simple.
They were closer to perfect than I’d ever experienced.
“It’s too bad.” I nodded. The heartbreak welled behind my eyes, but I refused to let it loose. “I really liked her.”
She didn’t say anything else, only gave me a tiny smile and left. The door clicked behind her, and almost three months after she barged into my life, I was in the same place I started.
I meandered around the wood-paneled boat house after taking a shower and getting dressed.
I tried to read, listen to music, even cracked open the economics textbook that sat in my backpack untouched for weeks.
Anything to not think about Malena. It wasn’t until James texted to tell me everyone was getting dinner that I snapped myself out of it, hoping some time with my friends would lift my spirits.
When I stepped into the lobby of my building, I half expected the guys to be waiting and ready to bodily escort me to town.
Instead, on one of the navy wingback chairs, sat my mom, paging through the campus satire magazine, her face frozen in a disapproving wince.
“Mom?”
She looked up from last month’s copy of Pastiche and quickly set it aside. “Conrad,” she said, standing and smoothing her palms over her skirt. “I needed to speak with you.”
“Okay…” I put my arm out and motioned for the elevator. I mustered a smile; I already had enough people worried about me. “Do you want to come upstairs and sit—”
“I’d rather not, dear.” She picked up her leather handbag. “I’m not going to mince words. I’ll come out and say it.”
“Okay…”
Her eyes rounded at the corners. “I called Eleanor and Christian. The Rutherfords would love to have you for Thanksgiving weekend. Or you’re welcome to come with me to the chalet in Stowe.”
“You’re going skiing? And you drove here to tell me that we’re not having a family Thanksgiving?”
Finally, something to be thankful for. Those were awful, and I’d hoped for years someone would call a spade a spade and we’d all go about our own business.
“Goodness no, I took the helicopter.”
I slowly exhaled. “Is that all?”
“And I’m leaving your father,” she added bluntly. “He’ll be served with the divorce papers over the holiday.”
My mood brightened. This generally shitty day had a silver lining after all. “Well, that’s…” I tried to find the right words but failed. “Do I have to pretend to be sad?”
“Well, I’m certainly not. I’m the one who leaked his most recent indiscretions to the tabloids.” She slipped the gloves she’d been holding back on. I couldn’t help but feel proud. My mom was finally doing something for herself. “The pictures too. Your father is incredibly sloppy.”
My grin couldn’t possibly get wider. “Cold-blooded, Mom.”
“Yes, well… I took Beatrice’s advice and got ahead of it. With all the documentation in the papers, I shouldn’t have any problem leaving this marriage unscathed. With that beautiful beach house in Newport.”
“Mom…” I faltered, the words getting stuck. High society’s motto was “Never ask uncomfortable questions,” and it’d been ingrained in me since birth. Screw it, I thought. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” She tucked her handbag under her arm.
“Why do you still like that house, after everything?”
A melancholic look washed over her face and her eyes darted up toward the carved crown moldings in the lobby.
“I learned something important there, something I needed to know. It was the first time I started to question what I wanted.” She let out a pleased sigh. “It took me a long while to get to this place, but I’m thankful for that day. As painful as it was, I wouldn’t be here without it.”
I smiled. “I’m glad you’re doing better, Mom.”
She took a few steps over to me and gave me a hug. Taking a momentary pause, she held my shoulders and just looked at me. “Perhaps that young lady can join us there in the summer? Eleanor tells me she’s beautiful and smart. Good for you, dear.”
I didn’t have the heart, or the physical will, to tell her what happened. She’d come to her own conclusions in June. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Then I’ll forgive you for having introduced her to the Rutherfords before me.” She hummed, laying a hand on my cheek and tapping it gently. “Have a good week, and if you’d like to come to Stowe, I’ll have the—”
“I’m good, Mom. I’ll go with the Rutherfords.”
She nodded, and with a wave, she was gone, happier than I’d seen her in years.
James: We’re at Salt & Shell, just ordered drinks
James: Lucy’s already threatened to drag you here by the hair if you don’t show up
I turned on my heels and headed out before Lucy made good on the threat.