Authors: Danielle Sibarium
“Five thousand dollars is more than a Christmas bonus.”
The doctor leaned back in his chair, “Surely you heard from the others I happen to be very generous during the holiday season.”
“Yes, but, I'm sure no one else has seen the same kind of generosity.”
“You deserve it.”
“For what?”
“For bringing my son back into my life. No amount of money could ever repay what this has meant to me.”
I swallowed hard, choosing my words wisely. “I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself. I can’t be credited for bringing him back into your life when he’s barely in mine.”
“I think you're understating your relationship.”
I needed to downplay and quick. “It’s funny that you say relationship. Friendship. Acquaintance. I think those words more appropriately describe what Carter and I have between us.”
I could see by the amused grin my boss wore he wasn’t buying a word.
“Now, now, we both know that’s not true.”
I brought my hand up to my now pounding head, “Look, Dr. Pen- Steven, I’ll be honest with you. I do care for your son. I care a lot.”
“I know. And I know he cares deeply for you, too.”
“But until the other night I had no idea he was your son. He told me his father was dead.
Dead, Dr. Penbrook. And I’m not about to risk losing what I do have with Carter, whatever it may be. Some things just can’t be fixed. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, my dear.
I made a terrible mistake. I hurt my son immensely and I’m very sorry I did.”
“I’m sure you are.”
He looked toward the ceiling as a faraway look came over him, “I wish I could do it all over. Everything. We could’ve been happy. All of us.” He let out a deep sigh.
A long heavy silence ensued. I felt very uncomfortable. I had no idea what he expected me to say or do. I wanted to leave his office, put the unorthodox meeting behind us, but I couldn’t. Not until he dismissed me. I wished he’d hurry up and get to the point or give me a sign to return to my office, but Dr.
Penbrook made no move.
I cleared my throat hoping to bring the doctor back to the present. I thought about glancing at my watch, but di
dn’t dare do anything so rude.
“Dr.
Penbrook.”
“Steven,” he corrected.
“Steven. I really need to get back to work.”
“One more thing, Elizabeth.
You may think it’s wrong of me to make this request, but would you bring him a letter.”
“I’d rather not. As I said before I don’t want to jeopardize our relationship.” I paused a moment, “Besides even if I brought the letter it doesn’t’ mean he’d read it. I have no influence on him.”
“My dear girl, I'll accept your reluctance for what it is. It’s okay to say ‘No.’ I understand. But to say you have no influence over my son is absurd.”
If he only knew.
I snickered, “I really don’t.”
“Of course you do. He’s in love with you. That’s why he made an attempt to attend the party. It was for you.” Steven
Penbrook stood and walked around his desk. He leaned against the desk facing me, one leg crossed over the other. “I want to thank you for taking the time to speak with me. I enjoyed it. I look forward to doing it again soon.”
I stood. A wave of relief swept over me, allowing the muscles in my shoulders and behind my neck to relax. As I returned to my desk I felt a sense of pride swell up and take hold of me. I thought I handled myself with confidence and integrity. It was as if I proved to myself I wasn’t about to let anyone come between Carter and me.
Chapter 30
Carter
I slammed the door to my house hard behind me, my body trembled with anger. Not anger, rage. I wanted a drink. Hell no, I needed a drink. Something hard. Something numbing. Vodka straight. I didn't bother to pull out a glass and pour it. I screwed off the top of the bottle and chugged.
I didn't even notice the warm sensation as it went down.
Too bad. I wanted it to hurt, to burn from the inside out. The goal; incinerate my heart. I could do it. I knew how, I did it once before and the effects lasted years. Until I met Elizabeth.
How the hell did I let her fool me? I wasn't some naive teenager sweet on the idea of being in love. I didn't even believe in love. Lust, hell yeah, but love? There was no such thing. So why in fuck’s n
ame did I tell her I loved her?
Swig after swig of vodka made no difference. I wasn't numb. I could still feel and my heart ached. I needed to flip that switch inside me.
The one that shut off my emotions, the good ones anyway. Anger was what I needed to embrace. That's what kept me going and got me to where I was. And I was happy. Before her.
I slumped down on the couch and ran my fingers through my hair. What the hell was wrong with me? Why was I making this hard on
myself. There was nothing more to say or do. I got what I wanted. I was done. It was time to move on.
Chapter 31
Elizabeth
I opened the door to my apartment happy to be home. What a long day. I slipped off my shoes and dropped on the couch. I closed my eyes a moment enjoying the silence. It was the first chance I had all day to replay the weekend with Carter in peace. I rummaged through my pocketbook and reached for my phone. I hadn't heard from
him all day. That was strange.
Getting back to my thoughts, I smiled at the memory of his touch, his warm hands heating up my skin and sweet kisses. Just thinking of him made the
tedium of the day worthwhile.
I needed a fix of Carter. I hoped he'd come to me so I wouldn’t have to stuff my aching feet into anything more than a comfortable pair of slippers. Besides, it would be nice for him to visit me and have him in my bed. I punched the digits of his phone number and waited for him to answer.
“Hello,” Carter sounded far away.
“Hi."
Silence. I expected something more, "How was your day, honey," or "I missed you." The lack of reaction or interest threw me for a loop.
"Feel like coming over?”
He took a long breath, “Not tonight. I need to catch up on some paper work.”
“Do you want me to come there? I could pick something up for dinner.”
“No. I'm really behind. I’ll get more done if I’m alone.”
“If you’re sure.”
I didn't even try to hide my disappointment. Thinking I would see him was what got me through the day.
“I am.” A heavy silence hung in the air.
I wanted to tell Carter about my day, including my strange meeting with his father, but I thought better of it. He sounded too distracted, too far away. Better to tell him in person.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, sensing that things were far from okay.
“Yeah. Fine.”
With a sinking feeling in my stomach I looked around my apartment. The walls were decorated with posters from my favorite romance novels turned into movies. I knew it was juvenile, but looking at the framed pictures made me feel good. They made me believe in happy endings even when things in my life promised to end any way but happily. I focused on the positive. I hoped a night apart would make our time together the next day more amazing. But it was more of the same with Carter. He didn't call or text. He didn't want to see me.
And then again the day after that.
Not seeing Carter at night, or talking to him during the day, the next few days dragged. Sandy’s mood hadn’t changed, she only grew more combative seeking me out to berate and barrage. It was like I had a
bullseye drawn on my chest and she was out for target practice.
Tuesday afternoon she stormed into my shared office yelling at me for not taking my lunch hour. Wednesday, Sandy took offense to my wardrobe, accusing me of trying to distract the male workers by highlighting my body with a wrap dress that came down passed my knee. A wrap dress
I'd worn to the office before.
Thursday I made my way into the office a little early and set to work with my door closed. I hoped to get my work done without being distracted by the sudden emergence of office politics. Politics I obviously didn’t understand. This only sent Sandy into another tirade.
The door slammed open with Sandy behind it. “We have an open door policy in this office.”
“I know, but office hours haven't even started.”
“If you can’t abide by the rules than perhaps you should find a job elsewhere.”
Tears burned my eyes, but I wouldn’t dare give Sandy the satisfaction of seeing me cry. Instead I busied myself in work once more, counting the minutes until I could return to the outside world where Sandy held no authority over me.
In just a few days I learned to hate my job. Only now I felt like I had to stay because Carter made it an issue. He wanted me to quit. I couldn't let him win.
Even though I knew something was wrong between us, seriously wrong, I went home every night with hope, and thoughts of seeing him. I knew once we were together, we'd work it out. But each night Carter dashed my hopes with another excuse not to see me. Too much work.
Too tired. And finally, too sick.
Friday, feeling like I had nothing left to lose I called in sick and spent the day cooking a feast for him. I began by making the meatballs and sauce simultaneously. Next, I prepared a ricotta filling for lasagna. When the preliminary steps where complete I layered it.
After the main dish, I baked bread with mozzarella and roasted peppers inside. What meal would be complete without dessert? I needed to do something simple and chose to bake an apple pie.
With the easy to transport meal in my car and high hopes, I tossed in an overnight bag and set off to Carter’s house. I didn’t bother calling first, aware he would only conjure up another excuse not to see me. Telling me ‘No.’ on the phone was one thing; I didn’t think he’d turn me away once he saw the trouble I went through for him.
I pulled into the driveway, got out of the car and carefully piled the pie and bread on top of the lasagna. Once I mastered the balancing act and had a firm hold of everything I rang the doorbell.
Carter answered the door with a glass in his hand. Seeing me, he ran his free hand through his mussed hair. I didn’t need to look at the clear liquid in the glass to know it was vodka, I could tell by the overpowe
ring smell. He reeked.
I couldn't speak. I didn't know what to say. I drank in his disheveled appearance, the old wrinkled tee shirt and sweats, the stubble covering his face, his red s
wollen eyes. What could I say?
“Hey.”
“I thought I’d surprise you,” I smiled and raised the packages slightly going along with my original plan.
“That’s nice but . . .” he paused and looked away, “I’m not feeling great.”
"I can see that. I bet you've been dealing with one killer hangover after the other."
He didn't answ
er.
I shook my head, “You are some
piece of work, you know that?”
Carter looked at me as if he had no idea what I was referring to.
“You’ve been lying to me all week!”
“I have not.”
“Yeah, you look sick,” sarcasm rang heavy in my voice.
“I . . . I am.”
“Right.” I snickered, “And getting smashed makes you feel much better.”
“Fine.
You want the truth. I just want to be alone. Just left the hell alone!”
I pushed passed Carter and brought the food into the kitchen more because my arms were getting tired than I wanted to be nice. After dropping it on the table I realized I should've held my ground and just let it all fall to the floor in front of him. I went back in the other room and invaded his personal space
standing toe to toe with him.
“If you want to end it, fine.
But do it like a man.”
Carter held the glass to his lips and sucked down its contents. He swallowed hard, look
ed at me, and then looked away.
He nodded his head, “It’s what’s best.”
“Are you kidding me? At least have the decency to say it.”
He didn’t move. He took a deep breath and stood taller, stronger, still not saying a word.
“What a disappointment. You had so much promise. I never figured you to be a coward.”
“I’m not a coward. You’re just pissed because you gave it up and now I’m done with you.”
I didn't think about reacting. Not before my hand struck his face so hard he dropped the glass. I looked down at the tiny shards on the hardwood floor, then up to Carter. Stunned he brought his hand up to his cheek.
“You bitch!”
“Now I’m done with you!” I turned on my heel and headed for the door.
Carter lunged after me and caught my arm in his grasp. He turned me around to face him and searched my eyes. An aw
kward silence hung between us.
“What?!”
I demanded.
He brought his mouth down on mine. I struggled against him enough to create distance, but he wouldn’t let me go. I pushed against him and brought my fists down against his chest. He pulled
me closer and held me tighter.