Ch. 32 The Cards Were Dealt
Marcus feeds me lunch—like breakfast—but he isn't really there.
The distance is so loud it makes my chest hurt.
Hours have passed in silence and I can see Marcus is struggling.
It's the afternoon, and Marcus suggests playing cards. I try to talk, to relieve the tension a little, but Marcus doesn't engage.
I don't understand. Marcus is there the moment I need something. Anywhere I want to go, he ferries me around in his arms—even when I insist on walking. He hovers around me, like a worried 'Mama' hen and is constantly looking to make sure I'm okay.
But he's also pushing me away.
I drop an Ace of Hearts, taking the hand before dropping the queen of spades.
What does Marcus see when he looks at me?
Does he feel guilty about my fall for some reason? Does he see a parallel between me and his mother? Does he resent having to take care of me?
He drops an Ace of Spades and wins the hand. He smiles at me in victory, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
My stomach twists.
Does he see me as a parasite?
Like my mom saw me. Like Christopher, Jonathan, Victoria and so many others along the way did.
Am I hoping for something—dreaming for something—beyond my league?
"You must be happy," I turn to Marcus with a smile. "I'll be out of your hair tomorrow..."
"What! Why?! You can barely even walk!" The vehemence, anger and disappointment in his voice surprise me.
I open my mouth to answer but he interrupts me.
"Is this because of what happened with my mother? I assure you, I won't let it happen again!"
I blink at him in surprise. "Wait, what?"
"I knew you were upset... Look at how sick you felt all morning. Are you really so upset that you've decided to leave?"
I stare at him, mouth open. "Upset? Me? You think I'm upset with you for what your mom did? That's why you've been so quiet and distant?"
His fingers tighten on the cards until they're folding.
"I didn't want to upset you even more—so I tried to stay out of your way. But you're still upset. Now you're talking of moving out while still injured."
He refuses to look at me, hand rubbing temples while cupping his eyes.
Wait...is he saying he doesn't want me to go?
"Marcus, look at me." I pull his hand away and force him to face me.
"I'm not mad at you—at all. What your mom did—that's on her. It has no effect on how I see you, except maybe to endear you even more to me."
"I'm dear to you?" His whole demeanor brightens, like I've given him an amazing gift.
Something unknots within me.
I lean forward and peck him on the cheek.
"Come on, play your next card. I'm going to win so hard you're going to cry little girl tears."
He scoffs and we continue playing, although the whole room looks brighter and feels lighter.
—-------------------
I put my phone away. She's smiling again—and I feel like I can finally breathe. She doesn't hate me—yet.
My whole body goes cold each time I think about this morning.
I was so sure that she would hate me. That she would think my mother was justified for leaving me and dad.
But I didn't have the courage to ask her outright.
Is it selfish of me that I don't want her to leave? That I've felt more alive in these two days with Celeste than I have in my whole life?
I'm falling for her, aren't I? And this time, I'm not turning back.
—-------------------
"You're still recovering. I still think chicken soup and egg fried rice is best."
"Let's order a pizza. You love pizza!"
"But you love fried rice!"
"Marcus, can we just stop arguing?"
"Fine. You win. I'll order a pizza."
I clap my hands gleefully while he places the order.
"Celeste, there's something I want to speak with you about. Can we talk after dinner?"
"Sure... We can talk even now... The food will take a while to get delivered."
He looks at me with pursed lips—guiltily.
"Marcus, did you do something?"
He opens his mouth and then shuts it.
"Just tell me."
He better not have shrunk my bra.
"So... while you were in the hospital..." He swallows and turns to look at me, hand scratching the back of his neck, "I was so panicked and worried—I told Christopher that you were injured."
I sigh in relief. My bra's okay. Then his words register.
Wait—what?!
"You called Christopher? As in Chris Lowell?"
He nods, and I'm this close to losing it. "Why would you do that? What were you bloody thinking!"
He swallows. "Let me tell you everything."
—------------------
It's worse. So much worse.
My hands shake in fury.
The moment Marcus got his head out of his ass, he started investigating. Fine—I can appreciate that.
He found some circumstantial evidence that pointed towards Madison. Sure, I'm not surprised. I always suspected her.
But then he had to go and involve Christopher! I'm mad. Spitting mad.
"So now that Christopher is convinced I'm not a cheating thug, just a home-wrecking whore, he wants to meet? And you've decided to become his mouthpiece? You do realize you're in the same boat as him, don't you?
"I don't appreciate this stunt you both are pulling. You're on very thin ice. I'd choose my next words really carefully, if I were you."
Marcus looks like he wishes he could drown. "I didn't mean to ambush you. Honest. I know I haven't even begun to earn your forgiveness.
"Celeste, we both realize that we wronged you."
His voice drops. "I was wrong. I was so very, very wrong. About everything." He swallows heavily, a tortured expression on his face.
"You don't have to meet him. I just told him I'd ask and revert. I'm not trying to pressurize you or anything."
I clench my jaw. Things with Christopher... were always complicated.
And I'm not yet ready to unpack all the things between Marcus and me.
If I had to acknowledge the truth, Marcus was essentially a stranger who had clearly expressed his desire to stay away from me.
Chris...he was...family. He was the first person after mom to make me feel like I belonged somewhere...That I might have a family too.
Until he ditched me like a hot potato sack.
"I'll meet him, once. For old time's sake. You know what? Call him over—now. And if he can't make it, tell him to kiss the meeting goodbye forever."
I want to be done with it as soon as possible. And if he doesn't show, even better.
Would it be, though? Really?
I shove that honest inner voice as deep as possible.
Where do things go from here?
Do I even care enough to find out?
—--------------------
I let Christopher know. And his response is immediate.
"He said he'll be here as fast as he can—around fifteen minutes."
"That soon!" I don't miss the panic in Celeste's eyes. Because of me, she lost her brother, her family, her future... everything.
I try to swallow the ash that fills my mouth.
Do I have the right to like her? Will I ever manage to earn someone like her?
Celeste is restless as she stares out the window. She pulls on the sleeves of her t-shirt, her good leg bouncing on the floor.
The doorbell rings and I get the door. Christopher pushes past me and spots Celeste in the living room.
He rushes towards her and Celeste's eyes widen. Before either of us can comprehend what's happening, Christopher drops to his knees and envelops her in a hug.
—-----------------------
Christopher really grew into his height.
That's the first thought I have after seeing him for the first time in nearly fifteen years.
He drops to his knees and encases me in a hug. A hug.
It's the first time Chris is hugging me—and it's not a token hug either. I can feel his whole body trembling against mine.
I freeze. I don't know what to make of it.
He pulls back and starts cataloguing my injuries. His teeth clench—whether in grief or guilt—I don't know.
"Are you alright?" His voice is soft, and his eyes are bright.
I bite my lip, to prevent myself from saying anything I might not mean.
"Why are you here, Christopher?"
"Because I was the worst brother to you. I made the biggest mistake of my life—not believing you. Not trusting you."
He looks down at the floor, his whole body hunching in on itself.
"I believed the worst of you, even when every instinct in me was screaming at me that I was wrong.
"I know I don't have the right to ask for your forgiveness. But when I got Marcus's text that you were in the hospital—
"I'm really, really sorry, Celeste. I was so wrong—about everything. I will never be able to make up for all my mistakes... but if you can..." His voice is so hoarse it's almost difficult to make out his next words.
"Do you think you might give me a chance to earn my place as your brother again?"
My eyes well with tears. He wants to be my brother—again?
"You broke my heart, Chris." My voice is soft.
"You abandoned me when I needed you the most."
His face falls, and his whole body droops.
"You punished me for my mother's sins."
He flinches like I've struck him, but he doesn't interrupt me—not even for an apology.
He sits there on his knees while I pass judgement.
"I don't know if I can forgive what happened, Chris. I'm not even sure if I want to."
He nods. "I deserve that. Your anger, your hatred, your disappointment. If you never forgave me—I would deserve that as well."
His eyes shine brighter now, with unshed tears.
"But if you ever need me—I'm here. I'll never abandon you again."
My whole body feels cold.
He squeezes my hands before getting up and stepping away.
A part of me wants to call him back and throw myself into his arms. He was the first and only person to ever treat me like family—and I would give anything to have him back.
But I'm so afraid. To want—to hope.
I look at Marcus and he looks devastated.
"I need some space. And some time—to think."
Chris just nods. "Of course, take all the time you need. Also—"
He places a thumb drive on the table. "My conversation with Madison. I failed to get a confession, or new leads."
He moves towards the door and Marcus places a hand on his shoulder. Chris's whole body shudders.
He nods at Marcus and leaves a deafening silence in his wake.