The Contradiction of Solitude (34 page)

“Not a problem. Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

I hung up the phone. I picked up the picture and stared down at the tiny smile and dusting of freckles. Eyes that saw nothing.

Not anymore.

“You’re better than a star, Lay. You’re like me. You make the stories. Those stars will one day belong to you.”

I wanted my own stories.

Not these.

Not the ones he gave me.

The frame slipped out of my hands and fell to the floor. The glass shattered and scattered. Pieces sliced my naked feet.

Pain.

Pain.

Was I ready?

I was ready.

“Where did all the pictures go?” Elian asked, walking into the living room. He looked bad. The worst I had seen him. I had been sleeping over at his house. He seemed to rest better there than here. He was impatient in my apartment.

He paced a lot. Never still. Jittery and on edge.

It irritated me.

“I packed them away,” I replied, taking note of the pronounced shadows beneath his eyes and the way the green had stopped dancing a long time ago.

It made me sad.

Sad.

Sad.

Empty and confused.

Dark and shrouded.

Where had Elian Beyer gone?

“I think I got fired today,” he announced. His voice tired. Unemotional.

Not caring.

“You got fired?” I asked, not surprised. He hadn’t been going to work. He hadn’t been doing much except for loving me.

He loved me with a dying heart.

“George asked me to leave. Told me to go
home.”
His laugh was joyless. Void. There was no happiness there.

Elian turned in a circle in my living room. Turning. Turning. Never stopping. Dizzy. Falling over. Collapsing on my couch.

“Should I go home, Layna? Where would I go? To you?” he barked. His laugh taunting. Cruel.

He was angry.

At me.

“You came here, Elian. You tell me,” I threw back at him. I had to be careful. I should be patient. He was unraveling. Quickly. I didn’t have much time. To stop him. To stop myself.

Frozen thudding in my chest.

“What’s wrong with me?” he agonized. Miserable.

“Nothing,” I swore, sitting down beside him. Pulling him in. Holding him close. Mine. Always mine.

Elian laid his head on my chest. His ear over my heart. “I had been holding on for so long. I had a life. Friends. A job. People liked me. Now what am I? What have you made me become?”

He blamed me. He should. I’ve ruined him. I hated it. But I meant to. It’s what I had to do.

“Let me tell you a story, Elian,” I whispered into his ear. His lips pressed firm on the column of my throat. Tongue wet. Tasting and devouring.

“Tell me,” he begged.

“About a girl named Layna. She wanted to be a star. But her father said she never would be…”

“Would you come with me on a trip?” I asked sometime later. Elian had drifted off to sleep for a few minutes. Not long enough for him to feel rested but now he was much more calm.

More rational.

Maybe my story helped him.

The way they had always helped me.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked, his voice soft. Aching.

I sighed. How would I tell him? What would he do? How would he react?

I had a feeling he would need this as much as I did.

“To see my father.” Elian stilled in my arms but he didn’t pull away.

“Where’s my phone? I can hear it ringing,” he said excitedly. Patting his pockets.

I framed his face with my hands. “Listen, Elian. I want to see my father. And I think you should come with me.”

He shook his head. His too-long hair falling in his eyes that no longer danced.

“I don’t. I
won’t.”
He began to shake, and I dug my fingers into his cheeks. Holding him still.

“Come with me.” I breathed him in.

Tears hot and fierce fell from his eyes. Splashing on my hands. Staining the skin with their exhausted anguish.

“We both need to confront the man that made us.”

“I won’t, Layna,” he warned. His eyes flashing for the first time in weeks.

“I won’t see him.” He pulled away, my fingers grasping, not finding purchase.

“Elian—”

“But I’ll come with you. I’ll be there when you go in and I’ll wait for you to come out. And I’ll help you rid yourself of the monster and the hold you seem to think he has on you.”

The monster’s hold. It wasn’t in my head. It was in my soul.

Elian had no idea…

“Thank you,” I smiled. Elian reached for me just as I reached for him. And we lost ourselves in each other.

On this cusp of the end.

“Diana, do you have a few minutes?” I knocked on my boss’s office door at the back of the bookstore later that day.

Elian had gone home and I had continued packing.

I was going to see my father.

I was going to talk to the man that had ruined my life.

I hated him.

I loved him.

Twisted. Confused. But I knew this was important.

It was time.

“Sure, Layna. Come on in.” Diana looked up from her computer screen, her lips pursed.

“What can I do for you?” she asked, popping a piece of gum in her mouth and chewing noisily.

This was going to be oh so sweet. I had endured her barely concealed abhorrence for long enough.

“I want to give you my notice.”

Diana looked surprised. She clicked the pen in her hand over and over again.

I could grab the pen before she realized what I was doing. I could jam the pointed tip in the tender flesh just beneath her jaw. It would be so easy. So, so easy.

And I wouldn’t feel anything as she bled out onto the floor.

The skin beneath my tattoo on my hip throbbed.

I tried to rid myself of the ugly, wanted thoughts.

“Did you find a new job?” she asked, so nosy. Always wanting information I didn’t want to give her.

“No,” I answered her truthfully.

Click. Click.

“Are you moving?”

I took a deep breath. Calm. Steady.

Ever steady.

Click. Click.

“My last day will be Friday.”

Diana’s eyes darkened. “That’s only four days notice, Layna. That’s not very professional. If you want any sort of good reference from me—”

“I’m sorry, Diana, but that’s all the notice I can give you.”

No explanations.

That was all she deserved.

“I don’t understand.” She was pushing, pushing. Wanting more.

I wouldn’t give it to her.

“I’m sorry if this puts you in a bind, Diana. But there’s nothing I can do. It’s how things are. Thank you for the job. I’ve appreciated the opportunity to work here.”

Lies. All lies.

But given with honey-tongued believability.

Diana looked flustered and I knew she was cursing me seven ways to Sunday in her mind.

“You’re leaving me in a bit of a lurch, Layna. I had you scheduled up through the end of next week—”

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” I cut in. Not giving her a chance to argue.

I was cutting ties.

Severing them completely.

“Well, fine. I better make some phone calls to fill your shifts next week then,” she spat out angrily. She wouldn’t look at me. Which was fine.

She wouldn’t like what she saw anyway.

A smile as high as the sun.

“This weekend? That’s when you want to go?” I could feel his words vibrating through my chest. I lay with my head on his chest. My ear listening to the not so steady thump, thump of his heart.

“Yes. This weekend.”

Plans were made.

“Why so soon? It’s not like he’s going anywhere.” It was a bad joke. Neither of us laughed. We were beyond laughing.

I had waited as long as I was able to. I was too cold. I couldn’t stand it any longer.

I was impatient. I didn’t like being alone without Daddy.

He didn’t say how long he’d be. I really wanted my ice cream.

He promised.

Cold. So cold as I walked towards the house.

It looked familiar.

Had I been here before?

My feet crunched and cracked through the frost. It started to sleet. Ice cutting into my face.

I held my breath as I moved closer.

Closer.

Where was Daddy?

I climbed the steps and stood in front of the door.

The sounds were everywhere.

What were they?

They weren’t like anything I had ever heard before.

Scratching. Crying.

Moaning low and quiet. But loud enough to be heard…

Everywhere.

I turned the doorknob. I went inside.

It was dark. No lights. I could see best in the shadows.