Chapter 28 #2
“I don’t know, Stella, you tell me.” She scoffs. “You seem to be swimming in debt. Maybe you feel like you’re owed something after what my family did to yours, huh? What, did your dad put you up to this? Is that why you visit him so often? Reporting back to him, scheming behind my back?”
“Where is this coming from? When have I ever made you think that I want your money?” Stella shouts the accusation, daring me to prove her wrong. “James, I’m not after you for your money. I like hanging out with you. Have I ever even asked you for money?”
“Maybe you haven’t found the right opportunity.
Maybe you’re waiting until your hooks are so deep in me that they pierce my soul and you can take me for all I’m worth.
” I’m suddenly glad that we chose to eat in the car.
The awkwardness and horror of this conversation would have been impossible to have in front of other people.
“Maybe that’s why you’ve been keeping it a secret. ”
“They’re my secrets, James! I don’t owe them to you!”
“You do when it involves my family! And the horrible things they did to you!”
“For god’s sake, James, get your head out of your ass before it gets stuck up there. I don’t need your money! I didn’t even know you had any until we were already there!”
“Well, why else are you with me then? I’m way too old for you, you want to go travelling, you hate the job I’ll be taking on, what’s the point? Why else would you?” Her glare escalates from angry to seething.
“I have my own damn money, James. Drop it.” Her words are deadly knives, waiting to slice if I step wrong.
I don’t care.
“No. Tell me now what you want, or I’m done.”
“I want you! At first, I thought it was just fun, but I like hanging out with you, and talking with you, and you’re like, really smart and funny even if you try to look like some weird bouncer most of the time. I want to keep doing that, why can’t we?”
“Because, Stella, I need someone who is honest with me.” She remains silent. “Is it for your dad? For his treatment?” I see her stutter on her next words, her crystalline eyes widening as she struggles to put words together. I clock the moment her expression shutters.
“I don’t owe you an explanation.” Her words are like ice.
“Fine. If you’re not explaining, then I’m not staying. If there was nothing going on, you wouldn’t be hiding things.”
“Let me out of the car.” It’s a demand, not a request.
“I’ll drive you home, Stella.” I can’t exactly leave her here by herself, much less on Christmas.
“Let. Me. Out.” Bitter fury coats her words, and it’s the only reason I say nothing. I stare her down as she exits, leaving our now forgotten food on the floor and slamming the car door behind her. She marches her pert little ass back up to the diner, never once looking back at me.
How fucking na?ve could I be? I was raised to know better, to be on the lookout for people like this, and here I am, tangled up in an ever-tightening web of her deceptions.
Such an idiot. How in the world did my mother see this and I didn’t?
She has me wrapped around her little finger so tightly I brought her to Christmas dinner!
I peel out of the parking lot, pulling over a half kilometre up the road in the opposite direction of where we were headed, giving me just enough distance from Stella to try to gather my thoughts.
My brain flips through the memories of the last few weeks. How she happened to be everywhere I was—at the coffee shop, at my apartment, at the bar during every one of my sets.
She could have asked for those shifts. She saw the schedule, that I would be there. Was this all just a machination for payback? More like a payout.
All I know is that I don’t need her confirmation to know the truth. Even if my gut is twisting with uncertainty, there’s no other reason she wouldn’t tell me.
I’m still stewing in my own pity party when a car drives by, a rideshare logo sticker in the window, and a familiar head of golden locks in the backseat. I figured she would have called a car, but it’s not heading in the direction of her apartment building.
Where the hell could she be going this late on Christmas?
I debate for only a moment before following the car as it takes off, a small amount of guilt making itself known as I consider the position I’ve put her in. Not to mention how astronomical that surge pricing must have been.
Wherever she’s going, it has to do with what she’s been hiding. And I’m determined to find out what that is.
She stops near a shop on a strip for a few minutes which hosts a theatre, a coffee shop, and a florist.
She’d better not go into a movie just to avoid me. Are any of these places even open on a Christmas afternoon? Toronto is diverse, I guess. Lots of people need shit, despite the holiday, and not everyone celebrates.
I tap my foot impatiently, waiting to see the car start moving again. When she climbs back in and it does start moving again, she starts heading due South out of the city.
That makes sense, she’s from around that area. I guess she really is going to see her dad. I settle in for a long drive.
Huh, never thought I’d meet someone’s parents, but there’s no way she’s shaking me now. Maybe her dad will give me the answers his daughter refuses to.
The road twists and turns into an area I’ve never seen before, my car creeping around the corners cautiously. The trees are thin out here, providing no shelter from the gently falling snow, and there’s a path to a clearing. I don’t see any parked cars, so she must have continued on foot.
Does her dad live in the fucking woods? This is so fucking weird. Maybe she’s a witch, or in a cult.
I slowly step down the path in eerie silence, except for the crackle of my shoes in the packed snow.
I stop when I hear a soft, low voice.
Stella.
As I approach the clearing I see where we are, gravestones litter the area.
It’s partially overgrown, but there are fresh flowers next to two graves, which Stella sits between.
The one on the right is beautiful, carved, showing her mother’s name and a sincere epitaph.
The one on the left, the one she’s speaking to is in disrepair, simple, and crumbling.
“I don’t know what to do, Dad.” I hear her whisper. “It’s been just you and me for so long, and I’m not staying. I can’t feel this way, it’ll only hurt in the end, and I don’t want to— I don’t want to hurt anymore.”
I can pinpoint the fissure where my heart cracks open while I watch her talk to her father’s grave.
Her watery voice carries across the empty clearing, and I can’t eavesdrop anymore.
It wouldn’t be right. Despite all of my anger, she deserves to have this moment to herself.
I quietly slink back to my car to give her some space, trying to settle my shame as I wait.
Fuck, I’m such an asshole, aren’t I?
It only takes a half hour before a ball of bright pink emerges from the treeline into the parking lot. She’s looking down at her phone before she glances up, confusion written all over her.
I get out of the car, circling it to silently hold her door open for her.
She gets into the car, nodding at me before putting her hands directly on the heater.
We don’t speak as we drive. I know I should take her home, give her some space, but my heart won’t let me.
Not on Christmas. Not after what I caused.
If I were her, I don’t know that I would have even gotten in the car with me.
Unlike our usual drives, Stella doesn’t connect her music. She stares out the window, mute and contemplative. When we enter the city limits, a soft dusk has fallen over our surroundings. I try to put my hand on her knee to comfort her but her flinch is so noticeable I retract it right away.
What do I say? How can I even begin to apologize for this?
Stella’s head whips around to face me when I pass the turnoff for her street. I stare forward, keeping my face stoic.
“Are you kidnapping me?” she accuses venomously.
I don’t try to make her feel better. Angry Stella hurts less to watch than sad Stella.
I pull into my parking spot, not checking behind me when I walk into the building, knowing Stella’s tiny, enraged frame is storming in behind me.
By the time we get upstairs, she’s worked off the majority of her anger.
She makes herself at home on the couch as I try to ignore the tightness in my lungs, and I watch her wrap herself in my blanket.
I settle down on the other side and face her.
“Okay, talk.”