Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
DOTTIE
I miss you.
I t’s the same message Damon has sent for the past week. He’s stopped declaring his love for me with every text, but what did I expect?
Still, something tells me these three words mean something more.
I miss him, too. So. Fucking. Much.
Sitting at my easel, I mix some paints together to get the colour I want.
It’s the piece I was working on before Arrie barged in on me and uprooted my life; but I wouldn’t change it.
Except now, with every stroke of my paintbrush, I find myself missing Damon more and thinking of the unfinished mural.
Not to mention I have avoided every single one of Arrie’s messages and phone calls. I know I’m being a coward, but I can’t stand to hear the disappointment and hurt in her voice.
Sighing, I put the brush down, step back, and look at the painting. It would look finished to some, but there is something missing. Screwing up my face, I chew on my lip and tap my paintbrush on my overalls.
The doorbell rings and I freeze in place. I swallow the lump in my throat, hoping if I stay quiet, whoever is knocking will go away, but when I hear a familiar voice, I know my time is up.
“I know you’re in there, Dottie. Open the door.”
Closing my now watering eyes, I open them and walk toward the door on autopilot. When I open it there is no warm embrace like usual, no squeal of happiness, only sadness hangs in the air between us.
Arrie’s green eyes are bloodshot, and when they flicker down to my collar, I see the hurt in them, yet I can’t help reaching up to toy with ring and heart. We stand there at loss for words, when Arrie finally opens her mouth.
“Did he buy that for you?”
I nod. I have missed Damon, but I’ve missed Arrie so fucking much as well. It’s like I’m missing a piece of me.
I step to the side without a word, and Arrie steps in. Swallowing, I close the door and follow her inside. She heads straight for the kitchen, and I know she’s going to grab a drink.
She pours two vodkas, adds some mineral water and lemon, before turning around and sliding mine across the table.
I take it willingly, knowing I’m going to need some Dutch courage for what’s about to go down.
She doesn’t make eye contact with me until her ass hits the seat, and I feel the kick in the gut from here.
The betrayal and pain shines so fucking brightly in her eyes, and I hate myself a little bit more for being the reason for her hurt. Swallowing my pride, I take a seat.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tears collect in my eyes, but I wipe them away.
“I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Dottie, this is me you’re talking to. ”
I chew on my lip feeling the word vomit barrelling up my damn throat, and before I can stop myself, I let it all out.
“I was so scared I would lose you, Arrie, you have to know that.”
“But you did it anyway.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Do you really want to know? He is your dad.”
“I need to hear your side of the story.”
Beside the sexual side of things, I tell her everything.
From the unknown text messages on the app we were on, up until we met and how things unfolded after that.
I made certain Arrie knew that Damon was as cut up as I was, and he didn’t want to hurt her, that we both tried in the beginning to fight it.
There are a lot of tears, and when I finally finish our story, I look to her with pleading eyes. Please, please, don’t let her hate me, it’s all I can think of as she looks at me.
“You could have told me, Dottie. I am your best fucking friend!”
“And he’s your dad , Arrie,” I bite back, and she winces.
“What the hell would you have me say? Oh, by the way, your dad took my virginity, and now we are actively fucking. Come on, Arrie, please understand why I didn’t come to you.
Damon wanted to, but I told him to wait.
I wanted to make sure whatever we had was real before we hurt you! ”
“But you hurt me anyway!”
I glance down, my gut twisting at the raw, honest to God truth that left her lips.
“I did,” I whisper, peering up and locking eyes with her green pair. “I did and I’m so fucking sorry, and I hate myself for it, but I can’t help that I’m in love with him, Arrie. The only reason I left was to protect you and him. ”
“Protect us?” she says, incredulous, but before she goes on another rant, I explain to her what happened with her mother.
“She’s blackmailed you?”
“Yeah.”
“And she really said she would tell Shane she saw my dad touching you like some sicko?”
“And then some.”
“What the fuck is wrong with this family?!” she grouses, throwing her hands in the air and pacing. “Why would she do this after all these years? She signed a prenup, she has to know this won’t work…”
“Wait, why hasn’t she gone through with it?” she asks, raising a sceptical brow at me.
This is what I was afraid of.
“What did you say, Dottie?”
Here goes.
“I told her that if she didn’t leave you and Damon alone, I would lodge my own statement of what I saw when we were kids,” I say, swallowing hard, and quickly adding, “but you know I never would. I just needed her to know that I knew, and I saw, and I wasn’t going to allow her to bully me or hurt you and Damon. ”
Sweat dots Arrie’s brow as she keeps swallowing, and her face starts to lose colour.
Panic flares to behind her eyes, and I quickly grab her before she collapses.
As soon as my arms are under hers, her feet give out, a sob wrenching from her that makes my heart near detonate with the anguish she’s feeling.
Keeping my legs, I pretty much drag us both to my bedroom, laying Arrie down as softly as I can before collapsing beside her. Cradling her in my arms, she rolls up into a ball, sobbing while I hush her and tell her everything is going to be ok, even when I’m not sure if I’m telling her the truth.
After what feels like hours, Arrie finally stops and wipes her eyes, moving from my arms but staying on her side to look at me like we’ve done so many times before. I can sense the energy has shifted, the tension lessened, and it makes me feel hopeful.
“You’re not off the hook.”
“I know.”
“You made me ugly cry.”
“I know.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” I say, a small smile tugging at my lips and Arrie returns it.
“No, I don’t. Not even a little bit.”
The next morning, I wake before Arrie and head to the kitchen, feeling like I’m hungover. Putting the coffee on, I yawn and head into the lounge, my creativity calling to me even through the fog.
Sitting down, I uncover my paint and get stuck into it. I get lost in it, the soft acoustic metal music I put on, lulls me into a sense of security and I grab onto it with open hands, as mine fly across the canvas.
I don’t know how long I’m painting, but when I hear a shuffle, I spin around to see Arrie standing there with her eyes hanging out of her bird-nest head as she looks at the painting.
Insecurity threatens to snow me under, but as Arrie steps further into the room. I can see the awe in her eyes.
“Holy fuck, Dottie, it’s…”
“It’s what?” I ask, nervously.
“It’s morbid, but beautifully poignant as well.”
“Thanks?”
“Oh, shut up. Look at it.”
I turn back to painting, trying to see what she sees.
“Is the little girl in the caged heart, you?”
I nod, unable to form words .
“And the lotus she’s resting on? It matches your tattoo.”
I rub absentmindedly at the bright blue lotus on my ribcage.
“Yeah.” I manage.
She’s quiet for a moment, and I risk a glance.
“The cherry blossoms are weeping into blood and into the murky river the lotus rests on, but even riddled with melancholy, the entire painting holds beauty as they blend into the darkness with the lotus. Is ─ is this how you felt as a kid? All that murky, dark water around the girl in the cage, is that still how you feel? Wait, what’s that green in the background, and what does that stormy blue-black sky represent behind the cherry blossoms? ”
“The bright green stone in the background, and through the decayed trees, is a peridot. It’s the colour of your eyes, and it the gemstone is known as the friendship stone.
If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I would have survived.
And the other thing you asked,” I say, choking up before continuing, “Is the colour of your dad’s eyes.
In a few short weeks, he gave me the sky, and I took it for granted. ”
“Oh, Dottie,” Arrie says, rushing over to me and wrapping me in her arms.
“Did I ever tell you what my mother said to me while I was there?”
Arrie shakes her head.
Putting my big girl panties on, I rehash the whole visit, and then what my mother said to me at the front door. Tears flow steadily down my face, and when I get to the last part, my phone starts ringing.
Screwing up my face, I wipe the tears away, my heart freezing in my chest when I see my parents number on the screen. With shaky fingers, I hover over the answer icon, afraid of what the call might mean.
Fear is thick and heavy, weaving it’s dread deep into my belly as I answer.
“Hello?”
“Dottie, baby, you need to come home. I need you.”
“What’s the matter, dad? Are you ok, is mum?”
I hear him suck back a sob, and my stomach bottoms out.
“Tell me..” I demand weakly, hating how my voice shakes.
“It’s your mum, bub, she’s dead.”