One Week Girlfriend (21 page)

I don’t like what I see. There’s a murderous glow in her eyes and her mouth is curved upward in a crazed smile. She’s clearly on the verge of losing it.

“We should go,” I whisper to Drew and without a word he starts the engine.

“Don’t you want to hear what I have to tell you?” she asks in her creepy sing-song voice.

“Not really.” He keeps his gaze trained on the steering wheel.

“That’s too bad. Because it’s about Vanessa.”

He turns to look at her, as do I. “What about her?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you this for what feels like forever, the timing was just never right. But you need to know. I’ve always felt it was the truth…I wasn’t sure. I know it now though. Without a doubt, I know.”

“Spit it out, Adele.”

My stomach is churning as I wait. Fear makes my palms clammy and I clutch at my knees, scared out of my mind at what she’s about to say.

“Vanessa’s not your sister, Andrew.” Adele pauses, the smile she shoots my direction devastating. “She was your daughter.”

~* Chapter Thirteen *~

Day 7 (Departure), 11:30 a.m.

Where there is love, there is pain.
 
– Spanish Proverb
 

Fable

Almost two hours later, and I still don’t know what to say.

I’m in a perpetual state of shock over Adele’s devastating confession. I’m not the one who’s most traumatically affected by it either. I’m scared to death by the way Drew’s taking it. Which is, zero reaction whatsoever.

He’s cold as ice. Expressionless. Emotionless. Void of anything and everything.

I’ve spent six full days and nights with him. I’ve seen him at his lowest and highest points. His most angry and his most caring, yet I’ve never seen him act like this. I don’t know what to do for him. And he won’t talk to me.

It ends up being the longest, quietest four plus hours of my life. Traffic was brutal. The weather shitty, with constant rain and slick roads, making it nearly impossible for him to see through the windshield, the rain fell so heavily.

He flicked on the radio at the very start of our journey, a clear indicator he didn’t want to talk, so I didn’t press. But I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to. There were so many questions and I had no answers.

Was Adele telling the truth? Had Vanessa really been Drew’s daughter? Did his father—her husband—have any sort of clue? Had he been aware of their affair? Exactly how long had it gone on anyway?

From my calculations, she’d done this to him for a long time. At least four years. In the bits that he told me about the day Vanessa died, I have a feeling Adele dragged him into the house and had her way with him. So while they were fucking, Vanessa drowned.

Brutal but the truth, I can feel it. Hence that extra heaping dose of guilt he piles on himself.

I’m not angry at him though, and I can’t hate him for what happened. It’s not his fault, no matter how much he thinks it is. She trapped him into this crazy, sick relationship, and he didn’t know how to get out of it. He was a child when she started playing her twisted game.

It’s a wonder he was able to be with me at all last night.

I slept fitfully the last hour or so of the drive, waking up with a jolt when the truck comes to a complete stop and he shuts off the engine. I lift my head and peer out the window, discovering we’re in the parking lot of my apartment complex.

Yay. I’m home.

“We’re here,” he says, his deep voice deathly quiet. “Need help with your bag?”

I stare at him in disbelief. “Is this really how we’re going to end it?”

His gaze meets mine and it’s full of so much pain, I almost look away. But I refuse. He’s not going to win. I refuse to let him drive me away. “You heard what she said, Fable. No way do I expect you to stick around for that.”

“You really think that less of me? Really?” God, he infuriates me. I want to smack him and hug him, all at once. “Fine.”

I reach behind me and grab my duffel bag then throw open the door, climbing out of the truck so quickly, I almost fall on my ass.

“Fable.”

The sound of my name makes me pause, my fingers gripping the edge of the truck door that I was so eager to slam only a second ago. “What?”

“I—I need to process. I need to figure this all out.” His eyes implore me to understand. “I need time.”

Shaking my head, my chin trembles and I push past it. I refuse to cry in front of him. “How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t push me away, Drew.”

He inhales deep and looks away from me. That tick is still in his jaw and his expression is so tight, I’m afraid he might shatter. “I don’t know how to handle everything with someone else’s help. I’m used to coping on my own.”

My heart breaks just a little more. I don’t know how it’s still intact, with everything we’ve gone through. “Come in with me. I need to check on Owen and then…then we can talk. Okay?”

“Owen.” His gaze meets mine and he sighs. It’s like he’s forgotten everything and I brought him back to my reality. “Go to your brother. He needs you too. He’s more important right now.”

“Drew…” Owen is important, he’ll always be important, but my worry for Drew matters far, far more. I’m afraid of what he might do if I’m not around.

“Go, Fable. I’ll…I’ll call you.”

“No, you won’t.” Anger fills me and I slam the truck door hard, disappointed at how unsatisfied that still leaves me.

I head toward my apartment building, my shoulders hunched against the light smattering of rain that falls from the dark, angry sky. I hear Drew start up the truck, hear his voice call my name from his open window but I don’t turn around.

I don’t answer him.

I do as he says and go to my brother instead.

* * * *

I stop short when I see my mom sitting on the couch, her eyes bloodshot, her cheeks blotchy. She looks like she’s been crying. Owen’s standing behind the couch, a helpless expression on his young face and his eyes fill with relief when he sees me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask her as I shut the door.

She glares at me. “I live here. Where else do you think I’d be?”

Not bothering to say anything, I go to Owen and give him a quick hug. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” He slants a nervous glance in Mom’s direction. “Now that you’re here, do you care if I go over to Wade’s for a little bit? I’ll be back by dinner, I promise.”

“I thought we were going to the movies.” I so need the distraction. My head is filled with Drew and all the crazy drama that is his life, and I’d prefer to watch a mindless stupid movie for a while and forget.

Though I know that won’t really work. How can I ever forget him? Even for a little while?

“I think Mom wants to talk to you.” He fidgets. Clearly, he wants to make his escape.

“We’ll go to the movies some other time.” I ruffle his dark blonde hair and he ducks from under my grip, shooting me a winsome smile. “What do you think about having pizza for dinner tonight?”

His face lights up as he heads to the door. “Really? All right.”

I watch Owen leave, turning to Mom when the door shuts behind him. She’s watching me warily, her blonde hair—so like mine—tumbling over her eyes. Her eyeliner is heavy, her lips pinched. I have a flash in my mind of me looking exactly like this twenty years from now and the thought alone nearly takes me to my knees.

I refuse to turn into my mother, no matter how similar of a path I’m taking to hers.

“Why does he ask you if he can leave and he doesn’t ask me?” Mom waves a hand at the closed door. “He acts like you’re his mother.”

“If you were home more often, then maybe he
would
ask you.” I take the duffel bag into my room and dump it onto my unmade bed. I left the place a mess. There’re clothes everywhere, a jumble of cheap jewelry left on my old dresser and the mirror could use a good rubdown of Windex. I use this room to sleep and really for nothing else, since I’m always running around working or doing…whatever.

Imagining bringing Drew to my apartment, into my room, he’d probably be disgusted. He’s sort of a neat freak and everyone that lives here is sort of not.

Like I’m ever going to bring him here anyway. There’s no way we could work. I need to face facts. He’s too damaged, too stubborn to give me a chance.

“I’m home all the time,” my mom has the nerve to say when I come back into the living room. She’s cracked open a beer and she sips from it, blowing out a harsh breath. “I’ve had a tough weekend. I don’t need you giving me crap to make me feel guilty.”

I’d love to hear her definition of a tough weekend. Did they run out of beer or smokes? Maybe her boyfriend flirted with another woman. If anyone has had a tough weekend—hell, a tough fucking week—it would be Drew Callahan.

Oh yeah, and me.

“It’s only Saturday,” I point out. “Don’t you have a bar to hang out at or something?”

She snorts. “Since when did you become such a smartass?”

I don’t bother answering her. Instead, I head to the tiny kitchen and crack open the fridge, peering inside. It’s depressing as hell in there. Leftover Chinese takeout from however long ago and mostly empty bottles of catsup, mustard, mayo and grape jelly line the door. There’s a gallon of milk inside but maybe a sip of it is left and by the expiration date printed on there, it’s also many days too old.

There are two sodas and a crumpled, half empty twelve-pack box inside too. Of course. Heaven forbid Mom goes without her Bud Light.

I vow first thing tomorrow morning, I’ll go grocery shopping with the money I made from my girlfriend gig, so we’ll have real food in the house. I know Owen’s not done growing. He needs to eat and properly, not a bunch of junk shit and fast food. We’ll have one last night of cheesy pepperoni pizza, but come tomorrow we’re eating right.

“I heard you lost your job,” I call to her as I grab a soda and crack it open. The cold surge of caffeine and sugar slides easily down my throat and I shut the refrigerator door to find my mom leaning against the kitchen counter, her near empty beer can hanging from her fingertips.

“Owen told you, huh?” She shakes her head. “It’s such bullshit, what they said.”

“What did they say?” Great. Sounds like it’s her fault she lost her job.

“A customer supposedly complained that when I helped him, my breath smelled like beer.” She toasts me with her can then slugs the rest of beer back. Ironic, much? “I mean, I stayed up late the night before drinking with Larry, so I figure it was a leftover buzz, you know? I wasn’t really drunk. I was fine.”

I just look at her, sipping from my soda can. My life kinda sucks, my mom is completely irresponsible, but I have nothing on Drew.

Nothing.

“Where’s Larry?” When she looks at me, I raise my eyebrows. “Your new boyfriend, right?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “We got in a huge fight and he dropped me off here not even an hour ago. We were supposed to go out tonight.”

God, I really don’t want her here. I wish she would go out and leave me alone, leave me with my thoughts. Owen would come back for pizza but I want to hang out with him. “Maybe you should call Larry and tell him you’re sorry.”

“Why do you think it’s my fault?”

Because it always is?
“Maybe you should take the initiative and apologize even if it’s not your fault.” Now it’s my turn to shrug.

Mom taps her lips with her index finger, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. “Not a bad idea. I’m calling him.”

She walks back into her bedroom, her phone to her ear. “Hey, baby. It’s me,” I hear her say as she slowly closes the door.

I remain where I’m standing long after she’s gone. Thinking of Drew. Where is he, what is he doing? Is he okay? I’m sick with worry and I hate feeling this way. I wish he hadn’t shut me out. I wish he would let me in.

But wishes are for fools.

Drew

After I drop Fable off at her place, I drive around town for an hour, taking in the familiar, comforting sights. This small town where I’ve spent the last three years feels far more like home than where I grew up ever will.

Of course, my hometown is tainted mostly with bad memories, save those few days with Fable.

I drive past the campus, the stadium where I spend the majority of my time, and it’s all pretty much abandoned. I drive through downtown, past the shops, the corner cafes and the Starbucks, slowing some as I drove past La Salle’s, which looks quiet. Considering it’s not even six o’clock, that’s no surprise. Plus the students aren’t really back in town yet. That’ll all happen tomorrow.

The rain stills falls steadily and when I realize I’ve been driving for well over an hour with no destination in mind, I finally end up at my apartment building. It’s on the opposite side of town from Fable’s, I live in the newer part, the
better
part. Where the neighborhoods are quiet and the yards are perfect. Not like the crowded, older neighborhoods that are overrun with young, loud college students since the rent rates are so cheap. I bet my apartment is twice the size of hers and I only have one bedroom. Shit, I’m the only one living there while she has her mom and her brother, all three of them trying their best to keep it together…