Chapter 50 The Implosion
I lean into the backrest, Berta coasting along the road.
The highrises have already given way to the lush countryside. The greens blur into a moving impressionist landscape, and I can't help but wonder why we're going to Radcliffe.
Because that's where we're headed.
I glance at Marcus, but he's completely focused on the road.
We drive the rest of the way in silence.
By the time we pull in near the cemetery, it's already nearing 5:30 pm.
I'm starting to feel much calmer.
I start to unlock my door, only to realize Marcus is frozen in his seat, knuckles white on Berta's wheel.
"Marcus?"
He smiles at me. "Come on."
He opens my door for me and takes my hand. We walk towards where my mother's buried, but soon walk past.
We cross a few graves before stopping at a simple tombstone.
—Craig Holden—
—Beloved Friend and Father—
"After everything that happened today... I really wanted to visit dad. This is the first time I'm visiting him since his funeral."
I step closer to Marcus.
"Dad—I wanted you to meet my girlfriend. You know her. Remember Celeste?"
He takes my hand and pulls me closer.
"He really liked you. Even in his last days, he asked after you."
I'm surprised, and touched. "He did?"
"Yeah. He used to tell me you were the one for me."
"Even when you believed I wanted to destroy your life?" I'm surprised.
"Actually, I never told him about it. Despite everything that happened, I didn't want dad to ever have a negative opinion of you... not that I think he would've. He would probably have backed you and told me to pull my head out of my ass..."
I snort.
"You entered our life like an explosion of peace. You saw everything, but you never said anything. Being around you was...soothing."
He sighs and continues. "I've had a long time to think about why I pushed you away. I feel responsible for every misfortune in your life, in our lives. I still wake up in the middle of the night, wondering how life might have been if I hadn't been such a coward."
I listen in silence. I think he needs to say it, and somewhere, I need to hear it.
"A few years before mom left, she kind of stopped really talking to me. She would observe everything, but she spoke only the bare minimum required.
"No matter what I did, she ignored me as much as possible, while still taking care of me—mostly."
His face drops at the memory. "And every few days, like clockwork, she would go off on me—blaming me for everything that went wrong with her life.
"You see, in his last month, under morphine, dad mentioned something. She only married him because they got pregnant and the man she actually wanted dumped her."
He swallows his shame and continues. "The last year she was with us, she would stay away from me as much as she could. So I took to writing her letters and making her cards.
"I tried getting into fights in school, to get her attention. That backfired quickly."
I can barely contain my curiosity. "Why?"
He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "When the principal called her, she refused to come—said she didn't want a nuisance son like me—that he could do what he liked or deal with my dad. I was right there beside the principal when she said it...she was on speaker.
"Anyway, I tried making cards, writing letters...but she would find me and point out all the flaws instead.
"The more she pushed me away, the more desperately I clung to her."
He meets my eyes. "Back when I first confessed to you, you assumed some things. You thought I saw you as the problem. That I blamed you for making me feel badly.
"That was never the case. I was drawn to you like a moth to the flame. When I was with you, I was just Marcus, not the pathetic, inadequate, nuisance kid his mom abandoned to be able to live nor the guy who had to be something different to be acknowledged.
"That terrified me. For years, I'd worked on being a version of myself that people would choose.
"One day with you, and I was already forgetting why I needed to be better."
He chuckles, but it sounds hollow. "I had never known that kind of terror. The only two people to ever know the real me abandoned me. One in person, and one to alcohol.
"I was convinced, the more you got to know me, the worse your impression of me would be... And no matter how much I tried, I could see the moment you realized I was being fake in your eyes.
"That's why I ran away from you. Because being around you felt too good, too natural. The joy I experienced in your presence was too addictive. I didn't think I would survive ever losing it.
"Look what losing mom did to dad...And I am my father's son, through and through.
"So I decided to give up the dream of being accepted for who I am and pushed myself to become the version that is universally adored.
"The more I leaned into the 'better' persona, the more transactional I became. I stayed away from anyone that might see the real me, and I wrapped all my interactions with people I cared for into debts I could compute.
"I wanted you to know...you were never the problem. Ever."
Marcus brushes the leaves off the surface and clears the old flowers.
He runs his hand gently across Craig's name. "If anything, you were my...salvation."
I'm lost for words. Even after the growth he demonstrated, even though I chose him, a part of me has always been waiting for the other shoe to drop...because I never completely understood why he pushed me away.
Now I do. A weight I've been carrying around since forever settles into something...comforting.
He looks at me. "Anyway, I'm really glad the two most important people in my life met each other.
"I think you meant something beautiful to him as well."
Somehow, knowing Marcus's father liked me, approved of me...shifts something within me.
Standing in this quiet cemetery in front of Marcus's late father, the hole in my heart finally starts stitching itself up.
—-------------------
The sun is dipping low now. The cicadas are beginning their evening songs, and the cemetery is empty except for us.
We're sitting in front of my mother's grave. The wildflowers have taken over completely, and it's beautiful.
I introduce Marcus to her. I tell her about the morning.
I speak to her with an openness I didn't experience even when she was alive.
I'm experiencing a sense of peace I very rarely had access to.
That's when it hits me. This is the reason Marcus drove us here.
If he'd brought me to my mother's grave directly, I wouldn't have opened up like this. I wouldn't have felt so at peace—
But after his confession... after getting to know that his father remembered me, cared for me—whatever it was that held me back from my own mom is essentially gone.
I feel close to mom. And that has helped me move past whatever it was that drove me to tears this morning.
Marcus was willing to shoulder his grief if it meant allowing me an outlet for mine.
I study him as he plays with the grass, expression contemplative.
"Come on. It's getting really dark now."
I get off the ground and dust my backside before pulling him up. I lead him out... only, instead of walking towards Berta, I pull him towards the road that leads to his house.
"Celeste..." His protest is weak.
"Come on... we're here already. I want to see your house."
He doesn't say anything... just follows along after me as I lead him along familiar paths.
—-------------------------
Marcus
My pulse roars in my ears. The wooden door is faded. The paint is peeling.
The house that I once so lovingly tended to has now fallen into actual disrepair.
I haven't stepped foot in this house for years.
My palms sweat and I rub them on my pants. My mouth opens, but no sound cooperates, so I shut it.
I try again.
"I..." I swallow thickly and force the words out. "I can't..."
Celeste takes my hand in hers and steps closer. "Sure, you can, Marcus."
I shake my head, my limbs beginning to tingle with numbness. "You don't understand... Dad died here—because of me."
My whispered words are nearly inaudible.
Something close to compassion fills her face. She opens her mouth to answer, but a voice pipes up behind us.
"So this is where you escaped to." I whip around, to find Eva, and her son Seth standing there.
"What the hell are you doing here?! Get off my property." My voice is cold, but the fury that courses within me is red hot.
How dare they sully my dad's home—his legacy.
Celeste shifts beside me.
"We're here for what is owed to us. I saw what you pulled off this morning for her. You should know that won't be enough if I mess with the narrative. You saw what a determined mother will do for her son.
"You were a burden to me for ten years. You owe me the money for the pain I had to endure while raising you."
I can't help it. I start laughing.
For the first time in my life, I see her exactly for who she is.
Whatever lingering love I had for her, hope of having some kind of relationship with her is completely snuffed out.
And in its place, there is only a void.
Celeste stands beside me, concern etched on her face.
Abruptly, I stop laughing. It's no longer funny.
They threatened Celeste. This has gone on long enough.
"You know what, I've decided that I owe you nothing. Whatever debt exists between a parent and a child—it died the day you walked out of my life.
"You're no longer my mother. You've turned yourself into my enemy."
It's time she finds out what enmity with Marcus Holden feels like.