“Willow,” Julian calls. She stops and turns on the step to look down at him. “You are not gay. You are confused.”
“Let her work this out for herself. Don’t judge her,” I say quietly.
“What?” He turns on me sharply. “What did you just say?”
“I said don’t judge her!” I cry, the last of my patience fading away. “This is not a decision you can make for her. She is not a criminal in your courthouse open for judgement.” I shake my head, disgusted with him. “She’s a young girl going through a very confusing time and she needs your goddamn support.”
He glares at me, contempt oozing from his every pore. “When she’s eighteen we’ll talk about it, and not a moment before.”
My face falls. “She needs you to talk to you about it now.”
“What she needs is guidance from an adult who knows what they’re fucking doing. She is too young to think about this right now. She doesn’t need to label herself.”
Our eyes are locked and his chest is rising as he struggles to remain in control.
“She should still be at fucking school, but I let you talk me into letting her leave when I knew it was wrong.” He shakes his head, throwing his keys onto the sideboard. “You have no fucking idea what you’re doing when it comes to parenting.”
Something breaks inside of me.
I know what I have to do.
“Don’t you talk to her like that. She’s a much better parent to me than you are. I hate you!” Willow cries angrily.
Julian’s face falls.
I look up to Will. “Don’t speak to your father like that, Will. Go to bed. I’ll see you Monday.”
“Where are you going?” Will whispers in a panic.
Julian’s eyes come back to mine.
“I’ll still be your nanny, but I have to move out.”
Julian lifts his chin defiantly.
“I’ll work business hours to mind the children, but I won’t be living here anymore.”
Julian clenches his jaw in anger and points at me. “You leave me now and that’s fucking it. We’re done.”
The lump in my throat hurts as I try to hold it in. “We were done long before we started, Julian,” I whisper through tears.
His eyes hold mine.
I turn and walk to my bedroom.
“Brielle,” he yells, and Willow cries as she runs up the stairs. “Brielle, get back here right now!”
Once inside, I lock my bedroom door and slide down the back of it to sit on the floor. I hear a glass smash as he completely loses his temper in the kitchen. All I can do is drop my face into my hands and cry.
I just need to be gone.
I zip my suitcase up slowly, and I look around my empty room. Five months of memories are coming to an end. I remember arriving and how excited I was to start my new adventure. It seems like a lifetime ago now. I get a vision of Julian sneaking into my room every night and the beautiful moments we shared… the love that he made me feel.
It hurts that this is how this story ends.
Not all love stories have happy endings.
I’ve cried all night but I know this is right. I’ve known it since I opened that letter from the doctor.
I hear the beep of a horn outside, telling me my Uber has arrived. I’ve booked a hotel. In a cruel twist of fate, Emerson has had to go home this week, rather unexpectedly.
I’m all alone. If it wasn’t for the children I would be on the first plane back to Australia as well but I can’t leave Willow yet. I feel like she needs me now more than ever. At least for a short while. I just need to get through this weekend.
I pull my heavy case down the hall and find Julian sitting at the dining table.
His haunted eyes hold mine.
Don’t look at me like that.
He stands abruptly. “Don’t leave me,” he says quietly
I cup his face in my hands. “I have to.”
He shakes his head. “We can work this out.”
“No, baby, we can’t.” I kiss him softly on the lips. “I want you to be happy.” He puts his arms around me. “You make me happy.”
“I don’t. I make you feel obligated. Confused. Guilty. That’s not happy.”
He swallows the lump in his throat, and I know he knows I’m right.
“What am I going to do without you?” he whispers as he dusts the backs of his fingers down my face.
My eyes hold his. “Keep living with Alina’s ghost and go to back to your prostitutes. You’re safe there.”
He closes his eyes, and I take the opportunity to place a soft kiss on his lips. “I love you,” I whisper.
His face creases against mine. Eventually, I pull out of his arms and drag my suitcase through the front door to the car. The driver gets out and puts it in the boot.
I get into the car and stare out of the window.
Julian doesn’t come out to say goodbye. I look up and see Willow at her window watching me leave. I give her a small wave, and I try my hardest to hold it together.
The driver gets into the car. “Where will it be, Miss?”
Straight to Hell?
Oh, wait. I’m already there.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
I’m in love with a broken man,
And there’s nothing I can do.
They say everything has a reason, a lesson to learn.
Haven’t I had enough fucking lessons? Haven’t I had enough emotionally damaged men in my life already? When am I going to be someone’s lesson? When will someone love me more than people from their past?
And what can I possibly learn from feeling this much pain?
It’s complete bullshit.
I stare at the hotel room’s wall from my position on the uncomfortable bed. I haven’t got out of it since I arrived yesterday.
It’s been the longest twenty-four hours of my life.
I’m broken-so broken. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I wish I couldn’t feel.
A week ago, I had a home, children to take care of, and naughty pets that chewed stuff up. I had a man who worshipped the ground that I walked on, but it was all some kind of optical illusion. They were never really mine.
They were borrowed…
From Alina.
She still controls him from her grave. He still lives in the dark shadow she cast.
He always will.
I don’t know if I’ve done the right thing by sticking around, and I’m dreading going back to the house tomorrow morning. I just know that I couldn’t leave Will and Sam at this stage-not with a clear conscience. I need to prepare them for my final absence. I need prepare myself to live without them.
I’m not ready to say goodbye yet. My chest physically hurts at the thought of not seeing them again.
Ever.
More tears roll down my face. I don’t even try to wipe them away anymore. My pillow is soaking wet. If I let this poison seep out for long enough then maybe the infection will start to heal and the pain will stop.
I won’t feel so empty and cold.
Alone.
The Uber pulls up out the front of the house at 6:45 a. m. sharp., I pay the driver and climb out. The front porch light is on, even though the sun is just coming up over the hills.
The air is getting colder, and a small cloud appears in front of me as I exhale.
I wring my hands in front of me, walk up the steps, and I knock on the door.
Julian opens it swiftly. “Hello.” He says on autopilot.
I smile awkwardly. “Hi.”
He steps back to let me in, walking into the kitchen without another word, and I close my eyes.
His force field is back on.
Probably a good thing, to be honest. This is hard enough as it is. Heaven help me if he showed any real emotion now.
“Just take the car through the week,” he says matter-of-factly. “I won’t be needing it. On Fridays, I can drop you back home for the weekend. I’ll have a car pick you up Monday mornings.
I nod and clench my hands by my sides. “Thank you”
He’s wearing a navy suit with a crisp white shirt beneath it. Then there’s the usual accessories: a grey tie, his black, immaculate shoes, and his expensive watch. His dark hair is shaped to perfection, and that’s when I know his controlled persona is fixed firmly back in place. He’s freshly showered and his aftershave smells like things dreams are made of. It’s the very same aftershave that got me in this trouble in the first place.
Damn it, I should have smashed that damn bottle the minute he caught me snooping in his bathroom cabinet. Perhaps it would have saved me a lot of heartbreak.
I watch him as my heart gets on her knees and begins to beg to be back in his arms.
Cut it out.
He watches his finger as he runs it along the edge of the kitchen counter as if he’s contemplating saying something else.
His eyes finally rise up to mine. “I’ll see you later then.”
I nod, unable to speak through the lump in my throat. He picks up his briefcase and he walks out the front door, never looking back or giving me any indication of how he’s feeling.
Sadness rolls over me.
I hope he feels as bad as I do.