Chapter 16 Come to Me
COME TO ME
After a soothing bath in lavender salts, I found everything I needed. All the make-up and toiletries I bought from the hotel had been set up for me with the addition of anything else I might want or need.
The tub has a view of the ocean through an arched window. The dark blue water complements the silver and light blue color scheme that continues in here.
Knowing all of this was made for me makes me feel special in a way I never have.
At home it was always about Pippa. With my friends, I never pushed for the spotlight.
My goal was for everyone to have fun. I was fine with that, but I can’t deny getting preferential treatment, while foreign to me, feels extraordinary.
I dress in an ivory sweater that has a long satin dress underneath. The sweater twists at the hem like a shirt would if you tied it in a knot. I pair it with riding boots, but depending on how formal dinner is, I can always change into heels.
When I enter the bedroom, I head for the desk that overlooks the ocean and find a laptop and phone, along with a note.
The phone has my number and a few others. Text me when you’re ready for the tour. Lorna
I scroll through the contacts. Lachlan is under favorites as well as my home number and my mom and sister’s. How does he have these?
One important number is missing. Adelaide’s. I want to call her and see how she’s doing. Is she with Kingston now? Is he taking care of her? I can’t find out without her number.
I want to ask Lachlan if he can get it for me—I’m sure he has the resources—but I don’t want to owe him anything. He took everything from me and now he’s giving me stuff back.
Luxurious stuff.
This room is for me. I take it all in again. The ivory wood furniture carved with roses. The French crystal chandeliers. The silk and velvet drapery in silver and light blue fabric that shimmers. It’s a room fit for Elsa from Frozen, including the white marble bathroom.
The dressing room has more clothes than I could need, unless he plans to keep me here for a year. But he said the feud between his family would be over soon. I have enough to be comfortable for a while, even if I don’t wish to be here at all.
Damn you, Lachlan. I hate him as much as I’m intrigued by him.
I open the laptop. It’s set up and ready for me to use, as is the phone. I log into my mail and social media accounts. I can always reach out to Adelaide through them.
I go to those first and DM her from each of my accounts, leaving out the dramatic details of my life.
Keeping the messages light, I tell her I’m sorry about her dad, ask if she got my flowers, and if she’s doing okay.
I explain I lost my phone and that I need her number again.
Then I tell her that I love her and am thinking of her.
She doesn’t need to know about my situation.
My guess is she didn’t see anything about my wedding in the local news.
Even though it was announced in most cities in New England, that doesn’t mean it reached her.
Watch Hill is more secluded, and she’s not big on keeping up with the news.
If she had seen the announcement, she would have reached out in shock. If she couldn’t get through to my phone, she would have DM’d me too.
With that taken care of, I move on to what I’ve been dreading—calling my sister. Pippa doesn’t answer, so I leave her a message to call me at this number.
Next, I try my mom. My hand shakes, and my heart gallops in my chest with so much panic I almost hang up.
“Hello?” Mom answers.
My throat locks up. “Mom?” I force out.
“Emery?”
“Yeah. Hi. Please don’t hang up.”
She goes silent.
“I’m sorry I upset you.”
She chokes out a laugh.
“I am. I miss you.”
“What is this, Emery?” Disappointment rings in her tone. “You’re married now. You should be going to Lachlan with your problems. Not me.”
“I called the other night,” I blurt on the verge of tears. “You were... sleeping, but we talked. You said…” I clear my throat. “You said stuff about my… my birth mother."
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She ends the call.
Tears slide down my cheeks. It’s not the first time she’s hung up on me, but it hurts all the same.
Sometimes she wouldn’t talk to me for weeks.
Other times she’d ignore me for months. It depended on her mood and her willingness to make peace.
I knew earning her forgiveness after the wedding debacle wouldn’t be easy, but I thought…
I don’t know what I thought. A tear drips from my nose and lands on the desk, darkening the ivory wood.
I could gather my composure and take a moment before calling Pippa. But I don’t want to wait. I have to know the truth. Given how Mom hung up on me and what Candace had said—the memories of that phone call clear in my mind now—I need to know.
I call Pippa again.
She replies with a text.
Pippa: Is this an emergency?
Before I can respond, she texts again.
Pippa: If it is, go to your husband.
God. She and Mom are just the same.
Me: I need to talk to you. About Mom. Please.
That’s never gone well in the past. The umbilical cord is still attached between those two.
But I’m hopeful Pippa will tell me the truth, if she knows about it, and even if she tells me just to hurt me.
Mom isn’t going to tell me anything. Hiring a private investigator wouldn’t work either.
If there is truth to this story, Dad would have had it buried so deep, an FBI agent couldn’t dig it up.
Pippa: I’m in the middle of planning my baby shower and the nursery. I’ll call you when I get a free moment.
If this was Mom, she would have made the time.
Me: Thank you.
Until I get the answers I seek, I need to play nice and pray she makes good on her word, although I won’t hold my breath.
I sit there lost in memories of my childhood, trying to remember another woman.
There were many people in and out of our lives.
Staff, nannies, etiquette tutors, ballet teachers, riding instructors.
Then I snuck out to see Raphael and was sent away to boarding school.
My life became my friends, and I was happier there than at home, where I was always in Pippa’s shadow.
The beautiful daughter. The favored daughter. The better daughter.
Could this be the reason for all that? Dad favors Pippa too, yet he’s the reason I possibly have a different Mom. The thought hollows out my chest. How do you come to terms with something like this?
It would explain why my figure and coloring are different from Mom and Pippa’s.
But Mom loved me, in her warped way and despite loving me less than Pippa.
I felt like I was hers. Why would she raise me as her own?
I can see why Dad would conceal a child with a…
mistress? Work colleague? That would be bad for his image, but why keep me?
My stomach sours at the thought of being disposable.
The phone rings.
It’s Pippa.
“Hello?”
“Why do you sound like you’re about to vomit?”
“Because I am.”
“What’s the emergency?” she asks as if I’m being dramatic.
“Mom told me.”
The line goes silent, confirming my suspicion. She knows.
“Who’s my real mom?”
She sighs. It’s heavy and filled with indecision.
“You have to tell me the truth. I deserve to know.”
She doesn’t speak, but she doesn’t hang up.
“Please, Pippa. You’d want to know if it were you.”
“I can’t talk about this.”
“Wait! Don’t hang up. Please. Please, just tell me.”
She stays silent, but still, she doesn’t end the call.
“Pippa, please.”
She lets out a heavy breath that’s tinged with frustration.
“Fine. But you asked for it so don’t get mad at me if you don’t like what you hear.
You can’t tell Dad you know either. He’ll destroy Mom for this getting out.
You can’t tell anyone. Ever. And never bring it up to Mom.
Do you hear me? I’ll deny everything if you do. ”
“I won’t tell.” The words rattle from my throat. I tense, bracing for the truth, knowing it will tear at me in a way I’ve never been hurt before. I’m already hurting.
“Her name was Elora.”
Was?
“Mom couldn’t have any more pregnancies after she had me.
Dad wanted a son. Divorce isn’t an option for him, you know this.
They considered a surrogate and did interviews.
One lady caught Dad’s eye. They developed a relationship and had an affair.
She got pregnant, and Dad set her up in a house nearby. He spoiled her. Mom was devastated.”
My heart aches for Mom, and more tears sting my eyes.
“Elora found out she was pregnant with twins—a boy and a girl—but she suffered preeclampsia. You were born premature and barely made it. Your brother lived for two weeks, and Elora died after giving birth.”
My stomach hits the floor. I had a brother, a twin. My birth mom is dead. My mom isn’t my real mom. Pippa is my half-sister.
“Are you there?” she asks.
“Uh-huh.” I can’t quite think clearly yet. My elbow rests on the desk, my forehead in my hand.
“You can’t tell anyone about this. Promise you won’t, Emery.” Her tone borders on scolding.
“How do you know about it? Who told you? When did they tell you?”
“Dad brought Elora to the house and had her set up in a guest room when she was ordered on bedrest. I was young, but I remember her, the woman Mother cried over every night while drowning her sorrows in wine.”
So I am the reason Mom started drinking. A sob builds inside me. I fight it.
“When Elora died and then Everett, your twin, Dad forbade us to talk about them. No one was allowed to bring them up. We had to pretend they never existed and pretend you were… Mom’s.”
I’m going to be sick. Bile climbs up my throat as I turn and heave acids into the nearby trashcan.
“Jesus, Emery. Get it together. Are you alone? Can anyone see you? Can Lachlan?”
I wipe my mouth and give a weak laugh. Even if he could see me, he wouldn’t care.
“I have to go,” I murmur between tears.