Ch. 33 The Debts We Owe
The silence echoes long after Christopher is gone. Everything he said sits heavy in my chest—like a lump that refuses to dissolve.
The pizza has long cooled down, and both of us no longer feel like eating it.
Marcus packs up the leftovers and dumps it in his freezer before coming back out.
"Would you like to hear it?" My eyes snap to Marcus.
We've just had our most disconnected meal so far.
It takes me a second to parse through his words. "What—?"
"The conversation. Would you like to hear it?"
My eyes slide to the device. Do I want to—?
I guess I do.
—---------------------
The recording plays again. The words still ring in my ears.
Christopher did something I never thought he could do. He threatened to go after Madison's dad. For me.
I don't know what to make of it.
"Is Christopher actually that ruthless—that cruel? Makes sense. I guess I never really knew him."
Marcus remains quiet for a few seconds, as if gathering his thoughts and wondering how much to reveal.
"He's actually incredibly kind, and gives even hardened criminals the benefit of the doubt. I've worked with him on his cases for years, and I've never once heard him talk like this with anyone. But I think he might willingly descend to the depths of hell for you."
I snort. Should've known Marcus would plead his friend's case.
Marcus hears my snort but doesn't acknowledge it. "Christopher went to the UK—his last two years in law school. Did you know that?"
I blink in surprise—what does that have to do with me?
"He wanted to study law there and follow you almost immediately. Jonathan Lowell refused. So he worked while he studied. For two years, he busted his ass, barely slept, but earned a scholarship.
"Once, when drunk, he told me he regretted not being smart like you. It took him too long to make his way to you. Wanna guess where he transferred to?"
I press my lips tight and shake my head. "Your school's law department. I found out a couple years back. He stayed in the UK for four years in all. He told me recently that he saw you a few times. But he couldn't gather the courage to face you."
Suddenly, a memory surfaces. I was facing trouble at my dorm, and had been asked to move out in my junior year. I didn't have the budget for an apartment close enough to college to manage my studies and I was getting desperate.
I'd found a cozy apartment close by, but the rent had been astronomical and so I'd let it go.
The real estate agent had gotten back to me the next day, saying a student had leased the apartment, but would be unable to move in. They were willing to sublet it to me at my budget—as long as I moved in immediately.
I had jumped at the chance. I had been so grateful I hadn't even bothered to question my unexpected good fortune.
What was the name of the tenant on the subletting contract?
C...CJ Lowell.
I hadn't thought much about it at the time... They never moved in, in all my years in college and the next few years while I continued to live and commute to work from there.
It can't have been...? Can it?
I think back to the little co-incidences... someone paid for the coffee for the third person in line—lucky me.
I won an extra discount coupon on a campus drive I didn't remember signing or showing up for... Was that all Christopher?
My throat dries and eyes sting as the timeline clicks in place. "Are you saying he...? What are you saying?"
"I think he always cared for you. I think he was too stubborn to accept the depth of his mistake—and then he was too ashamed of his behavior. I think it took him a while to realize that he'd become the one thing he swore never to be—his parents."
I stare at him in disbelief, unable to accept the truth I can feel in the depth of my heart. That Chris never really abandoned me.
Marcus seems to mistake my silence for something else. He takes my hands in his.
He seems to be wrestling with some emotion, because when the words finally come, they sound pained and heavy.
"Celeste. I've been meaning to tell you this for a while now..."
His fingers squeeze mine. "I'm so sorry. For lying to you about my feelings. For hurting you. For believing the worst of you."
I try not to let his words in. He pauses, before swallowing. "I did like you back then."
His words cause a rush of something undefinable within me.
I wasn't wrong.
"I still like you," he continues. His fingers caress the back of my hands, sending thrills of warmth through me.
His words echo in my ears, feeding a hope I hadn't even known existed.
"I chose to turn away from you. But I could never really purge my feelings for you.
"I was extremely afraid of getting hurt. I never wanted to hurt you, or anyone else. But in the end, my choices—dictated by my deepest fears—ended up destroying your life.
"I'll owe you for the rest of my life. I'll probably never be able to make up for all the hurts I caused you. But I am going to try.
"If you give me a chance—I would like to begin making it up to you."
He looks at me so earnestly. He really means what he's saying.
"You thought I would hurt you."
His eyes widen at my summary of his apology. "So you pushed me away. Right?"
"I—" I wait for him to finish his thought, but nothing else comes.
"How did you think I would hurt you? Ridicule you? Curse at you? Leave you?"
He swallows thickly, but I can see in his eyes that it's true.
"Did I make you feel ashamed of yourself and your roots, Marcus?"
His face is now ashen, "No—that's not—"
"It's alright. You don't have to explain."
I stare at the audio file flashing on his screen.
His words are raw. "I would understand if you choose to never forgive me... But please allow me a chance to earn your forgiveness."
First Christopher. And now, Marcus. Their sincerity is palpable. And I'm almost willing to forgive Christopher. But Marcus—?
"I need some time. To think." My words sound dead. Even to my own ears.
Marcus looks concerned, but doesn't voice his worry.
"Sure. Sure. Take all the time you need."
"Can I have a moment to myself, please?"
His eyes widen and he jumps up. "Yes, of course. I'll be in the study if you need me."
I watch him go, back tense and slightly hunched.
Why would he feel inadequate around me? Is it something I did? Something I said?
I never really blamed him for everything that went down. What exactly am I supposed to forgive? I didn't want an apology...
If I allow myself to be honest—I just wanted him to...want me. All of me. As I am.
But even that dream is now tainted.
Has everything he's been doing for me all this time just a part of his need to atone for his mistakes? Is liking me also a part of his payback?
My throat dries, and eyes prick with tears.
Is that why my heart is breaking all over again?
—-----------------
I sit in my study, waiting for Celeste to call out or come over to talk, but two hours later—I'm still waiting.
I confessed my feelings to her.
Sweat beads on my back. I might've screwed up. By the end of it, she looked more upset than interested. I think I made things worse.
I chew on my lip as I replay the evening in my mind.
Do people pull back and ask for space when they're confessed to? Or is it that she's trying to figure out a way to let me down gently?
I believe she cares for me. Maybe she's afraid I'll hurt her again?
My chest aches—thinking about all the pain I've already caused her. How can I ever prove to her that I'll do better? Be better?
I finally step out to check on her—but she's already asleep—the wall in place.
Somehow, the wall feels unbridgeable today.
—-----------------
It's been four days since I spoke to her. Since I told her about my feelings...
She still hasn't spoken with me. In fact, the silence between us seems to grow louder and heavier with each passing day.
She left for her apartment the next day—after my confession.
"Do you really have to go? I don't think you're recovered enough."
"I'm fine now, Marcus. Even the bruise is starting to fade. I've imposed on you for three days already. I think it's time to go home." She has a smile on her face, but it looks sad, instead of happy.
I don't know what I can do to make things okay between us. Did I come on too strong?
I carry her bag to Berta, and put it in the back. By the time I turn around, she's already sitting in the passenger seat.
I get in the car and start driving. I try to make small talk, but she answers in monosyllables, and I run out of things to say.
The silence is uncomfortable.
We arrive at her apartment and she grabs her bag from the backseat.
"Thank you so much for looking out for me. I'll be working from home for two more days. I'll resume office on Friday."
"Just take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything."
She just raises a hand in goodbye and limps away.
I waited for her call for two days, but she never reached out.
It's Friday today, and she did come to work. Luckily, I caught her leaving and insisted on driving her home. But now that we are sharing a space, I can't figure out what to say.
Berta moves through the traffic towards her apartment as slowly as possible, though if I drive any slower, I'll likely end up causing a jam.
My eyes slide to Celeste, who is determinedly looking out the window.
I open my mouth to make small talk, but nothing comes out.
We arrive at her address, and I'm loath to part like this.
I speak before she exits the car.
"Have you had a chance to think about what we discussed the other day?" My words are far more hesitant than I expected them to be.
Celeste finally turns to look me fully in the eye. The look in her eyes has lead pooling in my stomach.
She smiles, but it's sad.
"I did. That's all I've been doing—thinking."
She pauses—collecting her thoughts. She inhales deeply.
"You know, I've spent my whole life counting debts.
Since I was a child, all I've done is try to ensure that I don't take more than I can give back or give only as much as can be paid back—and I'm tired.
I've wasted so much time thinking about what I owe and what is owed to me, I never really allowed myself to enjoy the kindness of others. ..yours included.
"I thought about what Madison did. I thought about the fallout. And then I thought about what I did.
"It wasn't Madison's actions that dictated what I did. It was my choice. Taking the fall for you was my choice."
I listen to her in silence. It seems the distance between us continues to grow—and I don't know what to say, what to do, to make it stop.
"Marcus, thank you for telling me the truth about your feelings—back then and now..."
Her voice hitches, and eyes shine. My heart stutters in my chest, and my vision is starting to close in, until all I see is her.
"I appreciate all the things you've done for me, back then, and in the past few months at Ingram Tech.
"You don't know how much this opportunity means to me. Also, thank you for taking care of me so wonderfully these last few days. I've never felt so pampered all my life."
She's saying all the right words... So why does it sound like a goodbye?
"Celeste, I—"
She gently places a finger on my mouth, cutting me off.
"I like you, Marcus. I really, really do. But I can't be with you. We will never be happy together if all we're doing is counting our debts to each other.
"I want to be loved for who I am. I want the person I love to trust me with their worst parts. When my partner looks at me, I want them to be able to see me—not the debt I represent in their life. I don't want them to feel small because of me. I don't want to feel lesser either.
"And I want that for you as well, Marcus. When you truly fall in love—I hope you feel safe, even happy—to be yourself.
"I refuse to be another obligation on your already long list." Her voice cracks and tears spill down her cheeks.
I reach for her face, but she gently holds my hand, refusing to let me get closer.
Everything I thought I knew about myself and her cracks in the wake of her truth—of my truth.
Celeste leans forward, and plants a whisper of a kiss on my cheek.
"You don't owe me anything. Take care." Her whispered words linger long after she's gone.
When mom left, it felt like a part of me died. Watching Celeste walk away—I would rather it die ten times more than experience the crushing void of her absence.
I hadn't even realized how strong a grip Celeste had on my heart—until now.
I refuse to believe that this is the end for us.
She doesn't want the better me. She wants the real me. Then that's what I'll do.
I'll shatter every wall I've built within me if I have to.
Just you wait, Celeste. I lost you once due to my own stupidity.
I'll be damned if I allow myself to lose you again.
—----------------
I can't believe I ran out of work to do.
I was so tempted to call Kyle and have him pass on some of his to me—but the next call he'll place is to his elder brothers.
Well. I down my glass of sparkling water while nursing my shot—which I have no intention of consuming.
Because I can't make myself drink anymore.
I'm pathetic. The more I think about what Celeste said, the worse I feel about myself.
Am I actually counting debts?
Does she really think I only like her because I feel I owe her?
I feel like smashing the glass I'm holding.
Three dots flicker. Stop. Flicker again
I close the chat and wait. Must be urgent for him to leave Ella at... I check the time on my cell—1:00 am.
Twenty minutes later, he finds me and orders sparkling water himself.
I raise my glass to toast him.
"So. Why did Celeste reject you?"
I raise my eyebrow at him. "Wow, the Ingram grapevine is strong."
"Nope. Celeste is ignoring Ella. And you—you're sitting in a bar when you don't even drink. Also, Kyle told me you finished all pending work."
I swear—Kyle. I swallow my mouthful of water and straighten. "What are you talking about?"
"You drown your grief in work—you always have. You think we don't know that you nurse a single can of beer each time we gather—that you don't drink out of it?"
"What the hell? Don't you have better things to do than count my drinks?"
Keith ignores my questions to ask his own. "So what are you doing here Marcus? Why are you sitting in a bar nursing an untouched shot?"
I lock my jaw and clench my teeth. I debate deflecting the topic—but how long will I run from the truth?
"She feels I only like her because I feel indebted to her. That we won't be happy with each other." I scoff.
"She's not entirely wrong to think that." Keith drops that bomb and returns to his silence.
I gape at him, furious. "You take that back."
He meets my eyes evenly, not at all cowed. "I don't think you even realize it. You stuck around with me because you felt you owed dad. You felt Ella and I getting divorced was because you didn't push me hard enough to read the papers.
"Heck, you went above and beyond to help us with Richard and Haley because of your misplaced sense of debt.
"You even took Kyle on as your assistant to train him to take over, didn't you? You gave everything to Ingram Tech and you still refuse to accept that you're the rightful chairman.
"You're not a placeholder, Marcus. And you don't owe us anything."
My heart thunders in my chest as Keith's words hit me like barbs.
"I don't know what to do. I can't lose her." My voice cracks.
"Then stop worrying about what you owe to everyone and their neighbor. You're not important to us because of the things you do. We don't care about you because we're waiting to get something out of you. You matter to us because you're you."
Tears sting my eyes and something unravels in my chest.
But before I can show Celeste what I see when I look at her, I need to change the lens through which I see this world.