Chapter 8 #3
“I forgot my agenda in the classroom, and he was kind enough to bring it back to me,” she answered, but something wasn’t adding up for me. First of all, wasn’t it interesting that Anton apparently knew where we lived? Second, my mother was blushing again.
“Uh-huh, I see,” I said. “So he’s also a professor?” She nodded.
“So how do you feel about each other? Are you dating? Tell me everything,” I insisted, and it occurred to me that the messages my mother so often read with a dreamy look on her face were from this guy.
“We went out one time; it was while you were in New York,” she began.
“But nothing happened,” she added immediately.
“Plus, at my age…” she continued with a gloominess that I didn’t like at all.
My mother was a cultured, intelligent, and enchanting woman.
Her beauty had not faded at all with the passage of time, and more importantly, she had unique qualities that would be sure to impress any man.
“You should get to know him, see what happens. I have faith in you, Mom, and in your choices. I know you’ll do what’s right for you.” I gave her my blessing and was happy to see a quiet spark of hope in her eyes.
We talked for another hour about Anton Coleman.
My mother recounted every detail of their first meeting and all the things about him that had captivated her from the moment she saw him.
She also told me that she was going to be very sensible and think long and hard before getting into a real relationship with him.
Either way, she would take her time now and deepen their pleasant acquaintance.
I kept asking questions and listening to her answers until she switched to another, decidedly less exciting, topic: Matt Anderson.
“Give him a call. He said he called your phone, but you didn’t answer. He wants to talk to you.” Mom handed me my phone and urged me to call Matt.
Okay, yes, we had spent a day together, and I had even given him a handmade gift, but as far as I was concerned, he was still Matt Anderson, asshole father, even if my hatred of him had dulled slightly.
“C’mon,” Mom smiled at me, and I grabbed the phone, rolling my eyes.
I got off my stool and went into the living room to call while my mother got dinner started.
“Selene.” Matt answered on the second ring, like he’d been waiting to hear from me. I sighed and looked out over our neat little lawn, wondering what I could say to him that wouldn’t sound rude.
“Hey, Matt. You were trying to get ahold of me?” It wasn’t very polite, but it wasn’t overly rude either.
“Yeah, I wanted to suggest you come over to my place this Saturday,” he said immediately without hesitation. I frowned because I hadn’t been expecting anything remotely like that. He wanted me to fly out and spend more time with him? There, in the house I had barely escaped last time?
Heat from the memories I associated with that house warmed my cheeks, among other spots on my body.
God, I had to get my head on straight.
“I’ve already talked to your mother about this. I’ll pay for your plane ticket, and, of course, I’d pick you up from the airport. What do you think?” he added, sounding enthused, and I paused to consider his offer.
Neil still hadn’t responded to my text and had just cut off our conversation, as was his style. He always had to be the one making the decisions. Sometimes, I could appreciate the domineering part of him, while other times I detested it.
Still, I could choose to go back to New York. Not just for Matt but also for a chance to see Neil again.
I blushed.
The real question was, would he want to see me again?
We would be sharing a house and a family again.
Our relationship had taken a firmly negative turn after the car crash, though, so maybe going back wasn’t the best choice.
I didn’t want to be all over him—I didn’t want to smother or suffocate him.
I knew how he was: Neil was a free spirit, firmly independent and rebellious.
He would have fled from me again and that wasn’t what I wanted, but… I hadn’t said anything yet about Player being behind the crash. I wasn’t sure what to do about that and when or if to tell anyone.
“Selene? Are you still there?” Matt’s voice jolted me, and I cleared my throat.
“Yeah,” I said, sounding uncertain. I didn’t want to go back to New York or set foot in my father’s mansion again.
Yet, the thought of seeing Neil’s golden eyes again, of getting to smell him and feel his presence in the room next to me, was a kick in the chest so powerful that it made me gasp for air.
I needed something to hold on to so I didn’t just give in to the lightning-fast feeling of fatigue that rendered my whole body weak whenever I merely recalled the feeling of his hands on me, his brazen mouth, his fiery passion, his dominance…
“So, are you coming?” my father insisted, wary of my silence.
Meanwhile, I was trying to reconnect with reality.
I should have refused; my answer should have been a decisive “no.” I couldn’t live with Neil, not now that I’d realized I had real feelings for him.
I would have to hear or see it every time he brought Jennifer or one of his other blonds to his room, and then I’d be miserable and crying again.
No.
I shook my head rapidly.
I couldn’t go back there.
Except…didn’t I say I could handle someone like him?
Yes, I did. But the fear often came back to torment me.
I was afraid of what I felt when he looked at me or when he touched me in that confident, expert way of his. I was afraid of the things I felt even at just the sound of his voice.
Thus, my internal struggle between reason and feeling began.
Then, instinct won out.
“O-okay,” I agreed.
***
I was nervous—terribly nervous—at the thought of seeing Neil again.
Ever since I accepted Matt’s offer, I’d done nothing but think about Neil all the time.
I saw him in my head as clearly as if he were actually standing in front of me. I’d never be able to forget those mysterious eyes, especially not after our encounter on the beach.
I felt like I’d been stripped of all my certainty, left vulnerable and weak.
Weak when it came to him.
Neil really had become an obsession for me, his face a marvelous fantasy that ebbed and flowed like waves on the sea. The memory of him was a slow, constant torment, a sad yet passionate nostalgia that dulled and obscured all other thoughts until I had no space left in my head for anything but him.
Mixed in with all of that was the guilt I felt toward my family.
Whenever I remembered that Neil was practically my stepbrother, I knew just how wrong it was to want to kiss him.
But that wanting, that mental image, was like a wild storm that blew through my days with its fury and rendered all my other worries small, because just the thought of him became a constant rumble that I wanted to banish.
I spent the five days before I left at the mercy of these feelings.
Five goddamned days of thinking about making up some excuse to avoid going to see Matt only to inevitably change my mind again.
“You’re deep in thought.” My mother walked into my bedroom as I sat in front of my vanity mirror, combing out my hair. I had covered my scar again with my long bangs, and now I was trying to untangle the irritating knots at the bottom.
“Come here,” she said gently, patting the spot next to her on the bed. I held the comb out to her, knowing she would want to deal with my long, untamable hair.
“I still remember combing your hair when you were a little girl.” My mother’s voice emerged from behind me like a sweet melody. The canopy of the bed with its ivory curtains surrounded our figures. I stared out the window as the soft, warm light of the bedside table lamp gently illuminated my room.
“I know… You made me go to school with those embarrassing pigtails until I was fourteen,” I grumbled, staring down at my legs where they hung over the edge of the bed, swathed in basic pj’s.
“Hey, don’t denigrate your mother’s talents. They looked lovely on you,” she mock-warned me as she brushed my hair. I relaxed under her gentle, affectionate touch.
“You still need to tell me all about your trip. You’ve changed the subject every time I’ve brought it up, but I’m sure there’s lots to tell,” she said curiously.
She had asked several times about how I’d spent those two days with Matt and his family, but I had always avoided discussing it. My mother knew me very well, and I was afraid that, somehow, she was going to suss out what I was trying to hide from her.
“There’s not much to tell. Matt’s a terrible cook, but you probably knew that.
He managed to reduce the eggs to carbon, so we got hot dogs at the boardwalk instead.
” I smiled and turned my head a bit to look at her, but she just turned my face back around and continued to work delicately through my hair.
“Selene, a mother knows everything before a daughter even opens her mouth,” she noted, making my forehead wrinkle in a frown. This time, I didn’t try to turn around and stayed stiff and motionless, listening to her. “Can I tell you a story?” she asked in a fond tone.
“Don’t you think I’m a little old for fairy tales?” I tried to make my voice light and hide how inexplicably nervous I suddenly felt.
“For sure.” She continued combing out my hair. “That’s why I said I was going to tell you a story, not a fairy tale,” she continued.
I glanced at her in confusion, and she gave me a sweet smile.
“Once upon a time—” she began, but I cut her off.
“That’s how fairy tales start.” I rolled my eyes at her, and she sighed.
“Then let’s call this a slightly different kind of fairy tale.
” She cleared her throat and picked up where she’d left off.
“Once upon a time, there was a princess left lying in a sterile bed after she had fallen into a deep, deep sleep. Her pale skin recalled the purity of snow, and her full lips the red of a cherry.” She took my hand and rubbed the back of it with her thumb.
I turned to her then, and the identical blues of our eyes met.
“But the princess was not alone. A mysterious, captivating knight spent all his time with her, warming her cold body the way the sun shines down to slowly melt the snow. But the young man’s heart was a hidden treasure box to which no woman possessed the key.
Many feared him because he certainly didn’t have the appearance of a good man…
” She shook her head, smiling and lulling me with her voice.
“He was not courteous or kind; in fact, he was so unfriendly and arrogant that no one knew what was hidden in the depths of his soul. His eyes were full of darkness, and his spirit was imprisoned by a shadow,” she went on, looking at our clasped hands.
Then she lifted one corner of her mouth slightly, as though remembering something beautiful.
“Where are you going with this, Mom?” I murmured.
“But one day in that barren room…” she continued, ignoring my question.
“He watched that princess as though she were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Then he crouched down next to her and took her hand, staring into her face,” she said softly.
“He rested his hand on her chest and, taking advantage of the girl’s slumber, told her everything he felt but was too afraid to confess.
He cracked open the secret chest that was his heart for her, revealing everything inside.
” She lifted her eyes to mine and stared deeply into them.
Her story had fully captured my attention.
“And what was inside?” I asked, making a face.
“The monsters he was fighting. The monsters he wanted to protect the princess from, even if it came at the cost of his own life. The monsters that he needed to destroy so he might live his dreams. Perhaps even live them with her,” she answered and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.
I gulped, getting lost in her words. Words that, oddly enough, I had heard before.
Someone, somewhere else, had said them, but I couldn’t recall who or when.
“That seemingly rude and hot-tempered knight had, in reality, an immense heart as well as an unassailable strength and a noble spirit. But no one had ever tried to look beyond the shadows in his eyes. He sheltered true love inside himself, though he didn’t even know what it meant.
Once the princess awoke, she needed to be strong enough to help her knight win his battles.
Both of them needed to unite against the darkness to destroy it once and for all.
Only then would they both find true love, which often hides itself in the shadows, under a black cloak and behind enigmatic eyes that might appear to have nothing to give.
Bear this in mind, Selene: True feelings are often silent and imperceptible, hidden in an action, a word, a touch.
” She smiled again and stroked my cheek.
I just sat there in shock, considering her words.
“Why did you tell me that story?” I asked, visibly moved.
“Because we shouldn’t run away from the things that scare us. Or the people that scare us.” She stood up from the bed, and I once again found myself looking up at her.
“Remember, Selene—a mother knows everything before a daughter even opens her mouth,” she added, giving me a little peck on the nose before she left my room. All at once, my face went up in flames.
Was she talking about…Neil?
No. I shook myself.
How could she possibly know?
I pondered her story. Was I afraid of Neil? Yes. Even though I wanted him with all my heart, I still feared the way he could completely destabilize me.
Maybe my mother did know something, but how?
I tried to sleep on it, but a powerful headache along with my general anxiety kept me from sleeping.
The next morning, I was going to leave and see my Disaster again. Just thinking about it made my legs shake and my heart…
My heart cried his name.