CHAPTER 8 Sit
September 26, 2010
We landed in New York at almost four in the morning. The exhaustion was real. It hit me hard and clung to my bones heavily. I’d been unable to sleep much, but thankfully William had. He deserved some rest after all the late nights and early mornings of hard work in Cape Town.
He slept through most of the flight as I read a few pages of the Crime and Punishment copy he’d found on the plane. The words weren’t making any sense to me, so I ended up putting it aside and stared at the ceiling instead.
Amena was waiting for us at the airport with the SUV, but so was Cooper, William’s driver. He was smiling and looking sharp, like he wasn’t meant to be in bed at this hour.
“Hey, Amena.”
Amena looked at me and nodded sharply. “Miss Murphy.”
I smiled at Cooper and waved hello when he approached us to grab William’s bags.
“You shouldn’t have asked Cooper to come,” I whispered in William’s direction. Aaron and David were loading our luggage in the trunk. “We could’ve given you a ride back home.”
“Yeah, I forgot to mention I have an appointment with some people later today in Sagaponack. I’m having a hot tub installed, but I’m meeting with the design team because I want to make sure everything’s exactly how I want it.” He pulled me in for a hug. Hot tub. I swallowed hard at the thought. “I mean, it’s Sunday. I would love for you to come with me. We could spend the night there, and I can drive you back to the city tomorrow morning and drop you off at Parsons.”
That sounded like the perfect Sunday plan—just him and me at his place in the Hamptons. But I knew I had to head back home. My father and I had unfinished business, and I knew we couldn’t delay it any longer.
It was disheartening to realize that even if this were a normal day and I wasn’t returning home from having escaped the country to go after a guy my dad disapproved of, I still don’t think he would’ve agreed for me to spend the night there.
Or maybe I wouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere from now on.
“You know I would love to.” I broke away from the embrace to look at him. “But I’m sure my dad would send me to a nunnery if I casually left for the Hamptons the moment I arrived in New York after fleeing to go after you.” I chuckled.
“You’re right.” He didn’t seem disappointed, though. I knew he understood the situation. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Aaron seemed eager to leave. He kept staring our way, and I was sure he would ask me to get in the car any second.
“Of course.” I stood on tiptoe to kiss him.
“Oh, and there’s something waiting for you at home,” he said, lifting a brow. “You’ll have to trust me on this one. I’m not sure how you’re going to take it, but I hope you don’t mind.”
“William Sj?berg, what did you do this time?” I shook my head, smiling.
“I didn’t do anything.” He did an I’m innocent gesture with his hands. “It was my idea, of course. But I’m sure it’s going to be necessary and very convenient for our relationship. Just promise me you won’t get mad.”
“You’re making me nervous!”
“Don’t be. Just trust me, okay?”
“Okay,” I said with resignation, dropping another gentle kiss on his lips and walking toward the car. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
He saluted me. “Yes, ma’am.” He brushed his bottom lip and hopped in the car. I touched my lip too, and a warm, fuzzy feeling enveloped me. I was finally able to do it. To show him how much I loved him.
“Aaron, where are we going?” We were heading to the Upper East Side, and I already knew what that meant.
“Mr. Murphy indicated we should drop you off at his place as soon as we arrived.”
“But it’s almost dawn,” I complained, “and I honestly want to go home, shower, and sleep. It’s not like we can do much talking right now. I’m sure we can do that later today.”
“Just following instructions, Miss.”
A heavy sigh escaped my lips. Exhaustion was getting the best of me. I didn’t have the required energy to argue with my father, so I hoped he wouldn’t be awake and I could sneak into the apartment to sleep in my old bedroom for at least a few hours before seeing him.
When we arrived, Aaron was quick to grab my things.
“I’ll be fine, Aaron. I can roll my suitcase up there.”
He ignored me. So I followed him, my legs feeling swollen and heavy from the trip. The weight of it all was crashing against me, and then the nerves kicked in. I could feel my breath catching in my chest, growing more labored as the elevator took us to my father’s floor.
Gently, I unlocked my father’s apartment door and the familiar smell of my childhood home rushed out as I entered the foyer. Aaron rolled in my small suitcase and returned to the elevator with haste.
“Your father will let me know when I should pick you up,” Aaron said, holding the door open with his forearm.
“What do you mean?” I dropped my bag on a chair and approached him. “You’re not staying?” I knew they were tired from the trip and needed to rest, but not having a car waiting for me downstairs in case I wanted to leave at some point made me feel trapped. Was I to stay here until my father dismissed me? It’s not like I was allowed to walk away and hail a cab.
“That’s what your father instructed me to do, Miss.” His lips went into a tight line. “Text me if there’s anything you need.”
“Okay.”
He nodded, and the doors shut before him with a heavy thump.
I cursed under my breath, hoping the noise wouldn’t wake my father since I’d left the door open.
His apartment was dark and quiet. So I picked up my suitcase instead because the hardwood floors creaked loudly against the apartment’s stillness.
I felt relieved that my old bedroom’s door hadn’t squeaked when I twisted the doorknob and pushed it open. My small bed looked inviting enough as I kicked off my tennis shoes. I pulled my phone and charger out of my bag and connected them to the power socket next to my nightstand. Before crawling onto the bed, I shrugged off my jacket and tossed it on the blush-pink armchair.
I was ready to rest my head on that dusty pillow. Because let’s face it, how often do people stick the bedsheets of an unused room into the washing machine? My guess was: not often.
But that wasn’t stopping me.
“Guillermina,” my father said, startling me from behind, his voice low but silky smooth.
“Fuck,” I breathed, turning around slowly to face him. Why did he have to sneak up on me like that?
“It’s nice to see you too.” He was wearing black slacks and a disheveled white button-up shirt with a few of the top buttons undone. It was nerve-wracking to realize I hadn’t awakened him but that he’d been up all this time waiting for me to arrive.
“I’m sorry. You scared me.”
He considered me for a long moment. “Meet me in the living room once you’ve settled in.”
Settled in.
Not that this was the best time to tell him, but I wasn’t planning on staying longer than it would take us to hash things out. I had class the next day and needed to head back home and carry on with my life.
“I’ll be right out.”
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I stared at my reflection in the mirror and took a deep breath. Harden up, damn it. I splashed some cold water on my face and dried myself before finally stepping out of the room to meet him in the living room.
“Sit,” he commanded, his tone dry and harsh as I approached him. I swallowed and sat across from him. I’d never seen him so upset with me. I didn’t imagine it would look and feel this way. He crossed an ankle over his knee and rested an arm over the sofa’s headrest. His body language somehow made me feel smaller.
“Dad, I—”
He lifted a hand to stop me.
“I’m selling the apartment, and you’re moving in with me.”
I shook my head, rampant denial pulsing through my veins.
“We had an agreement when we moved back to New York, didn’t we?” His words burned the space between us. This was going to cost more than I expected it to. “Was it worth it?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at me. “To go after him and lose the freedom you’d already gained?”
“Freedom?” I scoffed, blasting off my seat. “I’m choking here!”
He looked up at me, unmoved. Hot tears rushed down my face. The indignation and helplessness were taking over my senses. The room was spinning around me. I hadn’t slept for hours. I wasn’t physically or emotionally equipped for this.
But he knew it. He knew this wasn’t a conversation meant to be had in the early morning when I had landed an hour ago. He wanted me to break, to snap like I just had.
“You’ve been provided with sufficient comforts throughout your life. You’ve lived a good life,” he said, undoubtedly trying to make me feel guilty for wanting a good life, according to my wants and needs, instead of his. “But you’ve abused my trust, and I’ve been too careless. Too lenient.”
My blood boiled inside me. I could feel my cheeks and my neck flushing with anger.
“Don’t you dare talk about trust.” I pointed a finger at him and saw him flinch almost undetectably. I was losing it. I couldn’t even recognize myself as I spit the words back at him.
But even iron melts at the right temperature.
Brushing the tears away, I sat down to calm myself. So I took a deep breath and swallowed back the tears.
“You’ve been lying to me for years,” I said, my voice trembling but trying my best to keep my tone in check. “Caleb left a letter. He told me everything. So don’t talk to me about abusing your trust when you’ve been doing that every single day since Mom was killed.”
His gaze widened as he straightened in his seat. Sheer terror flooded his green eyes as he processed what I’d said to him. But his features hardened, and his lips puckered.
“That’s not—”
“True?” I cut him short, angling my head with curiosity. It was my turn to lift my hand. “I’m not done yet. And please save yourself the trouble of trying to convince me that the things Caleb said in that letter are false. I know you fired him in Paris. You made him sign another NDA that prevented him from expressing his feelings or pursuing me romantically. But I wonder …” I eyed him up and down with contempt. “What leverage did he have over you to make you hire him again?”
This bit about my father not offering Caleb a job in New York wasn’t in the letter, but when Aaron told me on the plane, I knew I had to bring it up. There was no way for him to know that Aaron was the one who told me this.
“You weren’t meant to be with Caleb,” he said simply, almost dismissively, as if it weren’t my life he was talking about. Being my father didn’t give him the power to decide every little thing I did or who I chose to be with. I was an adult. “Or someone like him, for that matter.”
“Who are you?” I shook my head at him, unable to recognize the man before me as my father. “Well, he’s dead now, so I guess we’ll never know if we were meant to be or not. I’m sure you’re thrilled that he’s gone.”
“No, sweetheart,” he said, the words anything but sweet. “His death affected me. He died protecting what I love most. You. And I respected Caleb, still do. But we made a gentleman’s deal in Paris, and I knew he loved and cared about you too much to mess up and be sent away. I’m sure you can understand that. It was business.”
“My life is not a business deal for you to settle on my behalf.”
“He was only going to break your heart!” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to regain the composure he’d been so good at maintaining up to this point. “I was trying to protect you. It would’ve been fun and exciting for a while. But you were doomed to face the reality that he wouldn’t have been able to give you the life you are used to living. The one you deserve to live. The one I’ve worked so hard my entire life to offer you.”
“And I’ll be forever thankful for all the things you’ve done for me. But you have to let me live and love and cry and make mistakes.” I raked a hand through my hair to get it off my face. “You like to keep me inside a cage and pretend you’re not deciding everything for me without me noticing. But I’ve noticed. And I’m ready to step out.”
“You call it a cage,” he retorted, “but you’ve lived a life surrounded by more safety, opportunities, luxuries, and comforts than most people will ever dream of.”
I sighed, but the breath came out as a tremble through my lips. “A cage is still a cage no matter how comfortable, pink, sparkly and gilded it may be.”
“I know it’s hard for you to see it, but I’m trying to give you the best life possible.” He said that as if his words were final and he possessed the ultimate truth. And I was the idiot who had to accept that? “I thought you’d learned to appreciate that by now.”
“You’re trying to control me.” I leveled his gaze, hoping to catch a glimpse of surrender in his eyes, but he wouldn’t budge. He was stubborn as an ox; making him see things my way wasn’t a menial task. “But you’ve been squeezing a bit too hard, and I’m not sure I can take it anymore.”
He stared at me in silence. What was he to say to that? He was too proud to admit that he’d been wrong or gone too far in his attempt to “give me a good life,” when deep down, I knew he was projecting his insecurities onto me.
“I think it’s time to renegotiate the terms you established when we moved back from Paris.”
He looked away with a mocking laugh. “You’re in no position to negotiate,” he said firmly. “You humiliated and disrespected me when you fled the country. And Aaron, too, as your head of security. Something could’ve happened to you. And I wouldn’t have—”
“Stop trying to make this about yourself when you know it’s not!” I threw up my hands. “I didn’t escape the way I did to get back at you, or as an act of rebellion. It was something I needed to do, and I knew that was the only way of making it happen.”
“What do you want?” He tilted his head. “Do tell. I’m curious.”
“I know Mom’s death was an accident,” I blurted out. My elbows rested on my knees as I covered my face with my hands. Fighting the whiplash of emotional turmoil and sleep deprivation was getting harder by the minute. But it was now or never. This matter between my father and me needed to be resolved. And I needed to make my demands known. “I know she was mistaken for someone else. And for six years you’ve lied to me about this, and God knows what else. I wonder what else Caleb left out of that letter.”
He stared at me and wet his lips.
My hands were shaking. I would’ve killed for a cigarette.
“What do you want?” he asked again, the icy calmness in his voice freaking me out. He was a diplomat. He had years of experience in reeling in his emotions, of perfecting the way he was perceived. Of lying and omitting in a way that came out as polite.
“I want to live a normal life without security. I want to go back to my apartment and carry on with my life, my studies, my internship, and my relationship with William. I want—”
“He’s not right for you.”
“I’m not done yet. I—”
“You cannot date a celebrity,” he interrupted me again. “Especially not one as high-profile as him.”
“Please, just let me finish.”
“I’m trying to save you from the inevitable heartbreak that will ensue if you choose to ignore my counsel and pursue this. You won’t be able to deal with the pressure that comes with having your private life exposed to the media.”
“Dad, please.”
“Not even I can protect you from them! They don’t play fair. The tabloids feed people lies and eat lawsuits for lunch. They are the silent predator that sneaks up on you and strikes when you least expect it. I know you, kiddo,” he said, softening his tone. “You won’t be able to stomach what’s coming for you.”
“I want you to apologize!” I choked on a sob, and the stress of it all bent me over for a moment. My stomach felt hot and knotted. The disappointment of seeing my father for who he was for the first time in my life was painful and hard to digest. “You … lied to me. You said you didn’t know anything, that you didn’t know who killed her and why. You made it seem like I was in danger and kept me in the dark and legally bound everyone around you to lie on your behalf!” A pause dangled in the air between us. “Why?”
“You need to understand. I was trying to keep you safe. I secured a deal with the government to guarantee nothing like that would happen to you. Ever. I had to take it.”
I know all about it. Caleb mentioned it in his letter. But my father said it as if I should’ve been thankful for his decision.
“And look what happened with Thomas,” he added casually. But bringing up the day of the shooting was a low blow. Even for him. My nightmares hadn’t ceased, even if they were becoming more sporadic. “If it weren’t for Aaron and Caleb showing up, maybe you and William would’ve ended up … dead.”
The thought of losing William that day still haunted me, even if I did a great job hiding it. But my father had touched a nerve, and something told me he wasn’t unaware of it.
My anxiety was spiking.
“Ultimately, having security that day is the reason why you’re still alive,” he pressed.
“Well, what’s the point in keeping me alive if you don’t let me live?”
My statement gave him pause, and he remained silent for a change. He stared back at me, allowing me to keep unloading on him.
“And you still can’t apologize,” I continued, the disappointment snaking up my chest. “Why are you so proud? Why do you keep choosing to make this about yourself when I’m sitting in front of you, letting you know all the ways in which you’ve hurt me? All the ways in which you continue to do so. How do you not care?”
“I lied to protect you. You wouldn’t have accepted your security if you thought it was unnecessary. But time proved me right,” he said, clicking his tongue proudly. “And now you want to date William Sj?berg, of all people. So what makes you think it’s safe for you to walk around New York alone when you’ll have all eyes on you, prying on your every move? Waiting for you to do something that might seem wrong or out of line so they can twist it in their favor and get rich at your relationship’s expense? You were hurt the other day by a paparazzi just by associating yourself with his brother’s girlfriend.”
“I love William. And he loves me. He will keep me safe.”
He laughed a harsh, derisive laugh under his breath.
“He’s willing to do the things Nathan never dared to do because he was too busy trying to win your favor.” That’s right. I knew he still fantasized about me getting back together with Nathan. I’d loved him so much when we were together, and still did but in a different way. But this wasn’t about trashing him. I respected him. But I wanted to make a point about how William was the man I wanted to be with, even if he disagreed. Even if he thought I wouldn’t be able to endure it. I didn’t know if I would either, but I knew I wanted to find out for myself.
“William lets me be me,” I continued. “He wants me to live the life I want to live.”
“Enough.” Clearing his throat, he stood and walked toward the credenza. He grabbed a manila folder and brought it back with him. “This,” he said, dropping the folder on the coffee table and sliding it toward me, “is my new proposal.”
I opened the folder and squinted at the pages. The letters were blurry to me. My eyelids felt heavy with every blink. It was impossible for me to read this. At least not at five in the freaking morning with puffy eyes from all the crying.
“Care to walk me through it?”
“It’s very straightforward, kiddo,” he said, as if the nickname would soften me up. “You break up with William, and you get your apartment back. I already have an offer on the table that I’m ready to accept, but I will gladly reject it if you agree to the terms of this contract.”
Immediately, no.
I snorted. “What else?”
“No more security. You’ll be able to live a normal life, just like you’ve always wanted.”
“No.” I closed the folder and slid it back to him.
“I’m giving you what you’ve always wanted. Freedom.”
“And how about the freedom to make my own choices?” I didn’t see how freedom could be legally tied to a contract and still hold true to its meaning.
“Come on, kiddo, don’t be stubborn. You know this is a generous offer.”
Hard pass. Our concepts of freedom were very different.
“You still don’t get it, do you?” I stood. “This generous offer of yours would be genuine if you’d let me be with William, let me keep my apartment, and fire my security so I can breathe and live a little.” I bent over to grab the contract and tore the whole thing in half, folder and all.
He stood and closed the distance between us, looking a bit flustered. “He has a reputation.”
His attempts to get me to do his bidding were bordering on pathetic.
All I wanted was for my father to hug me and tell me how sorry he was about everything and that he would make things right from now on. That he loved me. And I would’ve apologized too for escaping my security and for worrying him.
We only had each other, but he’d always kept me at arm’s length. Even now, he refused to see things my way or any other way that wasn’t his. And I knew this was the end of our relationship as we knew it. It had been built on lies and deceit, and even now, he didn’t seem remorseful.
He placed his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You’ve hurt me enough,” I said, gently pulling his hand off my shoulder. “Do whatever you have to do.”
I walked away toward my bedroom, listening to my father’s footsteps behind me. I needed to leave.
“I will sell the apartment,” he said to my back as I gathered my things to leave, not bothering to turn around to face him.
“I’ll find a friend’s couch to crash on while I figure out my living situation.”
“You will do no such thing,” he said sternly. “You will move in with me and remain under Aaron’s care. David gave me his two-week notice a few days before you left for South Africa. And today is Amena’s last day. Aaron will be enough.”
“Okay.”
I slung my bag over my shoulder, rolled out my suitcase, and clicked the elevator button. I couldn’t stay here a minute longer.
“I dismissed your security, and Mike doesn’t arrive until seven,” he said, the elevator dinging, announcing its arrival. “How are you planning to get home?”
“I’ll hail a cab.” I shrugged, stepping in. “I’ll survive. Or not. It’s scary as hell out there. But I’ll keep you posted,” I said with a forced smile as the elevator doors slid closed before me.