23. Chapter 20
Eli
My emotions are all over the place.
Any heartbeat now, they’ll suffocate me.
Zoe and I are heading back to my apartment. It’s not our first time here, but we spend most of our time at her place. It doesn’t matter to me where I work; I’m not picky. A laptop is all I need.
Zoe, on the other hand, is addicted to her computers. I don’t see any reason to change that.
This time, though, I have to be at my place.
As soon as we cross the threshold, I unbutton the top two buttons of my shirt. It doesn’t help. The moment has come when I want to and should tell Zoe the truth.
I head to the living room and sit down on the couch. She follows me uncertainly, and those damn pangs of guilt come back again.
We were silent the whole way back. She’s definitely thinking about what she witnessed. I’m a coward. But I’m afraid to look her in the face. Pity is the last thing I want to see in her eyes, and after I clung to her like a lifeline, breathing in her peachy scent…
Well.
I’m such a weirdo.
“Are you afraid of me?” The words just slip out of my mouth as they pop into my head.
“No,” she says, and finally approaches with slow steps. “I’m not afraid.”
The sofa sags when she sits down next to me.
Until her warm hand lands on my knee, I don’t notice I’m fidgeting with it.
Damn it!
I rub my face, lean back on the couch, and only then look at her.
There’s no pity there, I realize. There’s concern, there’s a desire to help, but not that damn pity.
“That was my father.”
“I figured.”
“I should have introduced you… but—”
Zoe cuts me off. “You didn’t have to. Not every moment is the right one.”
I cannot comprehend what I did to deserve a woman like her, but I’ll take what I’m given anyway.
“He was on a date.”
“Was that your mom?”
“No.” I laugh. “That wasn’t my mom. My mom is dead. He was on a date with his new girlfriend.”
Zoe lets out a loud sigh. “I’m so sorry, Eli,” she whispers.
I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat.
“Sometimes life’s so fucked up. She was the warmest person I’ve ever met.
She loved life, other people, and me. It all started with days when she couldn’t smile.
When she forgot that life is a gift. At first, she fought hard not to show me her sadness, but over time she didn’t even have the strength to keep it up.
Sadness… Is just an emotion. Yet it can destroy everything. “
“She was sick…” Zoe doesn’t quite say what she suspects.
“Yes. She was suffering from depression, but that only became clear much later. When she stopped getting out of bed and I couldn’t bear the burden, I called my father, who was on a business trip.
Of course, he’d been so busy my entire childhood that he was rarely even around.
The pursuit of money only intensified. The Pact added fuel to the fire. ”
“Is your father a member?”
“He is. Many things can addict people. Alcohol, drugs, sex, gambling… He was addicted to power and money. Anyway, he came home then and called a doctor. Mom received a diagnosis not long after. Depression. Dad tried to treat her with medication, therapy, herbs—even some damn person with magical natural stones visited our house. If anything improved, it was only for a short while. Maybe a few days. And Mom would return to her dark and icy abyss. But Dad loved her more than life itself, and it was only then that I really saw it. I was jealous of her...”
I fall silent for a short while. It’s not so easy to say this out loud for the first time in my life. It’s fucking sick to be jealous of your sick mother.
“I don’t understand.” Zoe’s gentle tone is like balm for my soul.
“My father loved her unconditionally, like no one else in this world. Literally. I don’t want you to think this is just a poor, wronged child complaining. I can’t stand pity in your eyes, Zoe. It’s just the truth.”
The woman by my side furrows her brow, trying to understand, but she can’t, so I explain.
“He didn’t love me, and I was jealous of that.
With Mom’s illness came the end of feeling loved.
He sacrificed everything for her, but he forgot about me.
I was just a damn kid who didn’t understand why his father forgot to take him to the playground even though he’d promised.
Why he forgot that I have allergies and needed to take my medicine.
Fuck… what kind of parent doesn’t understand their kid needs to eat?
I remember that. I remember that hunger to this day.
I numbed it with cookies. And that next hunger when he forgot to go grocery shopping, when I burst into Mom’s room begging for food and he kicked me out.
Because Mom was crying then, curled up in the corner.
Irony of fate, isn’t it? Starving in a house awash in fucking dollars.
And I remember how every day I faded away more and more, becoming a ghost. Rejected, ignored, unwanted by anyone. ”
I close my eyes and take deep breaths in a desperate need to calm down. My chest is heaving as if I were running, not talking about my fucking childhood.
A burning sensation appears in my eyes, and that hasn’t happened in years.
I will not cry! Not because of him.
Then Zoe’s thumb traces little circles on my knee, and I focus on that. It helps me a lot.
After a pause, she speaks up. “I don’t think of you as a poor, wronged child, Eli.
I think of you as a little warrior who faced a situation every day that shouldn’t have happened in your life.
And I’m so damn sorry that this happened to you.
So, so sorry. And it’s not your fault. None of it is.
Your father could have done so many things differently.
He could have hired extra help to care for your mom.
He could have found a housekeeper. He could have… Oh, God, Eli…”
Zoe’s voice cracks, and my eyes fly open. My stomach drops to the pit of my stomach when I see what’s happening.
My Raven is wiping her tear-wet cheeks. Something inside me snaps at the sight. I didn’t mean to…
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Please don’t cry because of me.” I gently brush her cheeks, cheeks too beautiful to ever be stained with tears.
“I’m not crying because of you. I’m crying for what you lost.” Her eyes well up as she looks at me. “Is that why you’re convinced you’ll love no one? That you don’t deserve love?”
I snort. “I’m not convinced, Zoe. That is something I already grasp.
This knowledge is so deep within me I don’t even have to think about the answer.
I used to think there was something wrong with me.
Not anymore. Not everyone is meant for love, and I didn’t want to hurt you by having you walk away from our relationship.
You deserve the world, and one day a man will lay it at your feet.
But no matter how jealous I might be of him, it won’t be me.
I can’t be him. I’m not capable of it, and I don’t deserve it. ”
“Don’t say that, Eli. You deserve it just as much as any of us.
It doesn’t always work out in life, but you deserve it.
Can’t you see that? As a child, certain beliefs imprisoned you, but that’s not who you are.
You don’t have to stay in that same circle your whole life.
It doesn’t have to be with me. But you can love, and more deeply than many others.
And one day, let someone love the real you—all you have to do is open the door to your heart. ”
“Zoe…” I begin in a hoarse voice, but I don’t even know what I want to say right now. Her words awaken something in me. Something that’s been dead for years. Though I can’t say what it is, I feel it’s there.
I look at this woman as if I’m seeing her for the first time. And maybe that’s the truth.
My eyes sweep over every mole, every detail on her face. The green of her eyes, her long, black lashes, her small nose, and soft lips.
I’m at a loss for words. On the outside and on the inside.
“Eli, I’m—”
“Wait here a moment,” I interrupt her and go out to the bedroom.
When I come back, I don’t sit in the same spot. I stand next to Zoe and hold out my hand, on which rests a small notebook.
“I’m the one who found her,” I say, looking her straight in the eyes.
“What?” she mutters, confused.
“I’m the one who found my mother dead. Here.”
Zoe looks at the notebook but doesn’t take it right away. So I insist. “I want you to be aware of this. Talking about it’s too painful right now. I can’t do it, but I want you to know.”
“What is it?”
“It’s something like a diary. More of a collection of memories than a diary. I don’t have any idea. It’s the only place where I’m real.”
Zoe inhales sharply. Her eyes grow wide, yet they’re so damn gentle. I know she understands perfectly what I’m trying to tell her.
Finally, she takes the journal from my hands.
For an instant, I don’t know what I should do now. Leave her alone? Wait until she reads those few entries?
“Come to me,” she encourages.
Hesitation finds its way into my heart, but I shut out all doubts.
I sit down on the couch and then lie down so that my head rests on her lap. Her fingers weave through my hair, massaging my scalp. In her other hand, she holds the open notebook.
It’s such a good, pleasant feeling. The exhaustion caused by memories and an emotional outburst finally makes my eyelids droop. I don’t know when I fall asleep.
I only know that her hand never leaves me, not even for a tick of the clock.