Chapter 37
Quill
Gute Nacht
A Different Story
Paul Leonard-Morgan
Something inside me tore painfully, accompanied by an unexpected hope and an overwhelming longing.
Home.
It shouldn't mean anything, but I knew deep down that no matter where this man would take me, it would feel more like home than all the empty concrete shells I had survived in until now.
“I can't...”
Something behind me broke audibly and loudly.
Before I could react, Davian grabbed me under the backs of my knees and by my waist, so that I ended up in his arms.
“Davian!” I gasped, but he started running, carrying me down the gravel path while I clung to his shoulders, despair raging inside me.
“Onera!”
My father’s shout made Davian mutter an incomprehensible curse and speed up.
Suddenly, he put me down, yanked open a car door, and I climbed into the back seat without hesitation.
Silver Spoon
Erin LeCount
No one said a word during the entire drive. I had probably deeply disturbed both of them with my behavior and my father's reaction.
I pulled my legs up, wrapped my arms around them, and let the tears flow freely, trying not to sob as I rested my head against the cold windowpane and ignored the fact that I could feel Lara's gaze on me through the side mirror and Davian's through the rearview mirror.
I had watched them from the dining room window, both smiling, carefree, distracted by a deceptive illusion, yet as if everything had been... perfect just the way it had been in that moment.
I had hesitated, had seriously considered going back to my room, but I hadn't been able to climb back up the gutter.
My second option had been the park. I would have gone to one of the streets, but the thought of lingering too long on one of the town's many bridges had paralyzed me, probably giving me the mental short circuit I had needed to walk through the terrace door, past the frozen staff, straight into the dining room.
Davian had deserved the truth, even if it had obviously thrown him off track more gravely than expected.
If he hadn't known before what a mess I was, he certainly knew now.
He had come back. For me.
How did I deserve this soul in my life?
Lara's hand appeared to the right of her seat and moved in my direction. With a tearful smile, I reached for it. She immediately stroked the back of my hand gently.
God, she was so much like Davian.
After a few minutes, Davian parked in the driveway of the Rydell house, and Lara led me inside with her hand on my back while Davian stayed in the car.
The dog ran up to me, wagging its tail, bringing a painful smile to my lips, and finally the tears stopped blurring my vision.
As always, my gaze lingered on the wooden picture frames with the snapshots I would never be able to catch up on.
“He's going to tear me apart,” Lara sighed as soon as she closed the front door. “But that doesn't matter now.”
With exhaustion setting in, I turned to her and she pouted her lips pitifully, her eyes glassy.
“Fuck, Quill.” She practically stumbled forward and pulled me into her arms. “Come here.”
And back was the blurred vision.
What did I do to deserve Lara? Why did she care so much about me when I could barely be there for her because I tended to escape into fictional worlds and unintentionally block out all social contact?
“Come.”
She pulled me into the kitchen to the seating area with the table, wrapped a blanket around me, and let me stare into the void while she poured me a mug of tea.
Two minutes later, she came back with a second mug, sat down next to me, and pulled the dog onto the bench so that he could snuggle between us and rest his head on my thigh.
“Why didn't you tell me that... your father is violent?”
She sounded hesitant, cautious, as if I weren't already a broken mess.
“Because his violence wasn't worth mentioning compared to all the things he's put me through over the last nineteen years.”
Lara was silent, probably trying to make sense of my words.
Once again, her hand landed on my back, stroking it gently.
“I'm sorry,” was all I managed to say amid all the guilt. “I didn't mean to drag your dad into this. But Monica and he support me in the debates. I had to show Davian the truth.”
Lara nodded, and so we sat there, caught up in our own spiraling thoughts.
“When I found out a few months ago that Joseph is your father, I tried to push it out of my mind. To separate your father from the man who treats Dad like his own son. Joseph always brought me gifts, invited me over to play with his daughter until Brittany and I stopped getting along... He was always friendly, asked about my grades, gave me money for my report cards, and was always there when Dad needed him. He never seemed like someone who could do something like that to his child.”
I stared at the pictures on the refrigerator, sadness pooling in my chest.
“People have many faces. They show the ones that benefit them. And sometimes they become so good at playing a role that at some point they become convinced that they really are the perfect person they pretend to be.”
A glance at my finger told me that I would have to scrape the blood from under my nails tonight.
“It made him feel torn. Every time he visited Mama and me, I saw the despair in his eyes, the moment when he couldn't be the perfect lawyer with the perfect family anymore, but was forced to be the man who had to face his problems. He hates the man he is without his mask. So much so that he numbs that part of himself with alcohol.”
When I realized what I had just told Lara, I bit my tongue.
She stared at me from the side. And I was grateful when the front door opened and the puppy jumped off the bench.
It’s Over
Atli ?rvarsson
Although I couldn't see him, I heard Davian put the key in the key tray and hesitate before entering the kitchen.
His hair was completely disheveled, his gaze fixed on me, and I could see how hard he was fighting to keep his emotions from showing, how he was forcing himself to look away from me and toward Lara, as if the sight of me was causing him pain.
I was too much. Too much in this house. I didn't belong here.
Why had I let him take me with him?
“How is it possible that I've raised you for eighteen years without ever lying to you, and you keep something like this from me?”
He stared tensely at Lara, who stood silently beside me. That gave my guilt the ultimate kick.
“Not only that your best friend is the daughter of my mentor and the sister of my best friend, but also what happens behind those goddamn doors as soon as I turn my back…”
He pressed his lips together, turned away, and began pacing up and down.
“Dad, I’m sorry.”
Lara had no reason to apologize.
What had I done?
I should never have put her between Davian and me. But how could I have known that one day he would worry about me?
Nonsense.
I should have known on the bridge. But I still didn't want to believe it.
“You and Joseph. You're inseparable. I was afraid you'd turn against my best friend too.”
Davian ran his fingers through his hair and turned back to her.
“I wouldn't have. I wouldn't have, Lara. And the fact that this is how you think about me makes me seriously wonder if I've given you the wrong impression about me somewhere over the last eighteen years.”
Whenever people in my immediate proximity started arguing, my growing nervousness gained the upper hand. For a while, I had even been so paranoid that I had considered everyone unpredictable, but I fought hard against falling back into this old pattern of behavior.
Davian would never tyrannize Lara. I had to trust that.
Lara wanted to say something, but Davian didn't give her a chance, looking more upset than I had ever seen him before.
“You should have...”
“I demanded it of her,” I interrupted him.
It forced him to stare at me. And there they were again. A thousand unspoken words and surging emotions in his eyes as his gaze wandered to my neck and settled there.
I felt naked. From here on out, there was nothing I could keep a secret from him. If there ever had been...
“You're going to live here.”
My gaze cleared.
“What?”
There was a hint of surprise in Lara's voice.
No. He couldn't do that.
“That's not possible. My...”
“I won't take no for an answer,” he interrupted me, and for a second I thought I saw something pleading in his eyes before his gaze hardened and silenced me for good. “Under no circumstances will you go back to that house. You have everything you need here. Lara will show you to the guest room.”
Everything in me resisted accepting this gesture of kindness.
“Anthony...”
“...should never have brought you to this house!”
This time we both pressed our lips together before Davian took a deep breath, raised his hands apologetically, and closed his eyes in resignation.
“Excuse me.”
He turned sharply and strode down the hall, up the stairs.
Then he was gone.
“This is what happens when I intrude into the lives of people who have everything under control. Things start to fall apart.” I looked at Lara in despair. “That’s the last thing I want for you and your father.”
Lara picked up Streusel, who had come back to lie down between us, and placed him on the other side of her before moving closer to me and resting her head on my shoulder, wrapping her arms tightly around me.
“Don't talk nonsense, Quill. You're just a storm that reveals which houses have a strong facade and which are already riddled with cracks. And that's not a bad thing.”
We sat there for a while, leaning against each other, holding hands.
For once, Lara made no comment about the damaged, hardened, and rough skin next to my nails, nor about the blood on my fingertips, and I silently thanked her for being the friend she was. The one I didn't deserve.