“Stop,” I say, trying to rush forward, but Rose pulls me back.
Ryke grabs Jonathan’s arm and pries it off of Lo, who stumbles in a daze. “What is wrong with you?” Ryke shouts at Jonathan. “No, you know what? I know what’s wrong with you. You never fucking change. Go back to believing you’re a great fucking man, but I won’t let you ruin Lo’s life.”
Why does he sound like he knows him?
“Is this Sara’s doing?” Jonathan asks. “Where is she?” His eyes dart around the ballroom, looking for Lo’s absent mother.
Lo parts from both Jonathan and Ryke, staring between them to try and understand their relationship. Clearly, it goes beyond anything we imagined.
“She’s not here. She doesn’t even know I’ve been talking to Lo,” Ryke exclaims.
Jonathan’s face twists in pain. “So you took it upon yourself to tear my family apart? After all that I’ve tried to do for you?” His eyes flash hot. “I could have shunned you, but I let you have a father.” Wait, wait, wait...
“I didn’t want one,” Ryke says.
Jonathan clenches his teeth. “You will not turn my son against me, do you hear me?”
“What’s going on?” Lo asks. “What the fuck is going on?”
From behind Jonathan, Connor appears and whispers in his ear. Jonathan nods and then says to Lo. “This is not the time. We’ll talk later.” With that short goodbye, Connor ushers Jonathan away to end an even bigger scene.
“Meet me in the hall,” Lo tells Ryke, not even looking his way.
I follow with Rose. Too many things swim in my head for me to focus. Tears keep falling—the source unbeknownst to me. Maybe from Jonathan’s sharp words. Maybe from Lo’s rehab proclamation. Or the strangeness between Ryke and Jonathan.
We stop in the hallway of the hotel, the carpet a tacky diamond pattern and the wallpaper a shiny gold color, both dizzying my flyaway mind.
“Who are you?!” Lo yells at Ryke. “Don’t fucking lie to me anymore!”
“Calm down,” Ryke says. “Give me the chance to explain, please. You deserve every answer.”
“How do you know my father?” Lo asks. “How does he know you?”
Ryke holds out a hand, palm down, as though trying to keep the peace. “Sara Hale is my mother.”
Oh my…Jonathan said something about being a father to Ryke. Is that why the divorce started? Sara cheated and became pregnant with Ryke?
That would make Lo and Ryke half-brothers.
Lo staggers back and raises a hand to pause the argument while he sorts out his thoughts. And then he looks up with furrowed brows and says, “You’re a bastard child?”
Ryke cringes in hurt, and he shakes his head once, so terse and pained that a tear flows from his eye.
Lo points to his own chest with a trembling hand. “I’m the bastard?”
Ryke nods once.
Lo lets out a strange choking sound, and I try to step forward, but Rose holds me back again. Lo wipes his eyes with his arm and inhales strongly. “Give me your license,” Lo immediately demands.
Ryke pulls his wallet from his back pocket and slides out the card. Before he hands it to Lo, he says, “You’re still my brother. It doesn’t make a difference who wasn’t supposed to be here.”
“Just give it to me.”
Ryke hands it over, and Lo scans the name. His jaw locks, sharpening his cheeks to ice. His hand quakes as he reads the card. “Jonathan Ryke Meadows.” Lo lets out a crazed laugh and he flings the license back at Ryke. He leaves it on the carpet. “What did you say your mother did?” Lo feigns confusion. “Oh yeah? She lives off your dad.” Lo bites his bottom lip and nods.
“Lo…”
He sets his hands on his head. “Fuck you,” Lo sneers. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? You’re Jonathan's son. Sara Hales is your mother, but she’s not mine, is she?”
“My mom filed for divorce when Jonathan got another woman pregnant with you. I was just born.”
Everything that his father told him is a lie. No wonder Sara hates Lo and cursed him on the telephone. He’s the product of adultery and her failed marriage. I try to move towards him once more, but Rose keeps pulling me back.
Lo is crying heavily. “Sara took my bed to give to you, didn’t she?”
“I didn’t know it was yours.”
“My dresser, my fucking clothes, she took them from the settlement and gave them to you.” Lo presses fingers to his eyes. “Why keep this from me?”
“There are legal issues…” He steps closer to Lo. “I didn’t even know you existed until I turned fifteen. My mom let it slip in one of her rants. I visited Jonathan all the time at country clubs. And I didn’t lie when I said I stopped seeing my father. I felt weird about him, especially when I started getting sober. I felt like I could see right through him.” He sniffs, trying to hold back emotions, but it’s hard because Lo is a mess. And Ryke’s eyes grow red and puffy.
“You knew about me for seven years? And you didn’t think to meet me?” Lo frowns in deep hurt. “I’m your brother.”
“You were also the thing that tore apart my parents,” Ryke says, his voice shaking. “I spent years resenting the idea of you. My mother hated you, and I loved her, so what the fuck was I supposed to believe? And then I went to college, and I gained some distance from her. I started thinking things through, and I came to peace with you. I’d leave you alone. You’d be some sort of wealthy prick that Jonathan Hale would raise. And then I saw you.” Ryke nods to himself, his eyes welling. “I saw you at the Halloween party and I knew who you were. After I learned about your existence, Jonathan would show me pictures of you, always asking if I wanted to meet you. I never did.”
Lo looks pained. “Why did you?”
“I saw what would have become of me if I was raised by him. And I regretted everything. I blamed you when you were just a kid dealt a shitty hand of cards. I wanted to help you…for all the years that I sat by. I knew what he was like. I listened to my mother talk about the things he said to her—horrible, disgusting things that were sometimes just as bad as a punch to the face. And I knew you were being raised by that. And I didn’t do a goddamn thing.” Ryke’s voice breaks. He shakes his head.
“So you saw me,” Lo says. “Am I as pathetic as you imagined?”
“No. You’re kind of an asshole, but so am I. We really must be brothers.”
Lo chokes on a short laugh. “Why’d everyone keep this from me?” He takes a step back and Ryke’s hand falls off his shoulder. “What are the legal matters?”
Ryke swallows. “In the settlement, my mom has to keep quiet about the name of your mother and she has to retain Hale as her surname or else she loses everything she won in the divorce.” Ryke must have kept Sara’s maiden name: Meadows.
“Why?”
“So your father won’t go to jail. Your mom was almost seventeen. She was just a minor, and my mother could have turned him in, but she pitied you for a single moment. And so she signed these papers that kept everything quiet. If she changed her mind, then all the money would go to charity and she’d lose out.”
Lo face twists. “Did he rape her?”
“No,” Ryke says quickly. “No. Sara said a lot of bad things about Jonathan, but she never said that. I don’t think he loved your mom, or else he would have found a way for her to be in your life. I think it was…a one-time thing.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I think she walked…” He struggles to finish the truth. “I think she walked away from you. I don’t know why she chose to have you, but she did. And I know she didn’t want to keep you after.”
Jonathan raised Lo, when no one else wanted him.
As the words sink in, Lo’s hands tremble and his chest barely rises to accept breath. “It was just easier for everyone if I didn’t know, right?”
“I wasn’t sure if Jonathan ever told you the whole truth,” Ryke professes. “But when you met me, I knew he hadn’t. You had no recognition of who I was.”
“
Why couldn’t you tell me upfront?” Lo asks. He points to his chest. “I deserved to know.”
“You did. You’re right,” Ryke says. “But you’re not well, Lo. I wanted to help you. So I made up a couple lies to be close to you. I even had to ditch Rose’s fashion show because Lily’s father showed up. I’ve met him. He knows me, and I didn’t think you were ready to find out the truth.”
My father knows? He had the answers the whole time. I can barely process this.
Ryke edges closer. “I was afraid if you found out, I’d push you to a dark place. Can you understand that?” His eyes flicker to me. “I think you can.”
Lo rubs his eyes again. He can’t stop crying. I see the hurt coursing through him like jagged tidal waves, crashing and crashing until he loses breath and focus and drowns beneath the rapids. He screams into his hand—angry, pained, pissed.
He slowly drops to his knees and puts a palm on the carpet.
“Lo,” Ryke says, bending to him. He tries to help, but Lo swats him away with wild, watery eyes.
“Where’s Lily?” he asks, frantic. “Lily!” He whips his head. “Lily!” he cries, searching for me.
Rose finally lets me go, and I run into Lo’s arms. He holds me tightly and cries into my shoulder, his body heaving. “I’m here,” I breathe. “It’s okay.” When I look up, I see Ryke and Rose exchanging hesitation.
I understand now. They’re afraid of our closeness. We’re not good together.
Not yet anyway.
He clutches onto my dress, and he cries until there are no more tears. I try and pray to hold mine back—to be strong for him. He whispers to me, in a dry voice, “I feel like I’m dying.”
“You’re not.” I kiss him on the cheek. “I love you.”
After a few more minutes, we rise and silently walk outside to the valet with Rose and Ryke close behind. I convince them to leave us alone in one of the cars, but they’re going to meet us at the Drake.
Lo slides into the Escalade first. And then me.
“The Drake,” I say, not even looking at the front seats. The car starts moving, and I turn to Lo who has a hand covering his eyes.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“You’re going to rehab,” I say assuredly, even though a pain weighs on my chest. I know this is the right thing. For both of us.
“I can’t leave you.” He drops his hand. “It could be months, Lily. I don’t want you with another guy…”
“I’m going to be strong,” I tell him, taking his hands in mine. I squeeze. “I’m going to go to therapy.”
“Lily…” His pained voice sends daggers to my heart.
“I’m going to move in with Rose.”
He shuts his eyes and more tears spill.
I keep from crying. I swallow. “I’m going to transfer to Princeton, and I’ll be waiting for you when you return.”
Lo nods a lot, letting the news sink in. “If that’s what you want…”
“It’s what I want.”
Lo licks his lips and leans a shoulder against mine. “I’m sorry, about today. I shouldn’t have done that in the hotel room. I…I was upset, and it had nothing to do with you. I…”
“What is it?” I frown. What could be so bad that he threw back mini-bottles of alcohol, breaking his short sobriety that meant a great deal to him, to me, and our friends…his brother.
“Penn sent me a letter this morning.” He pauses. “They’ve kicked me out.”
“What? They can’t kick you out. You haven’t done anything wrong. We’ll go to the Dean—”
“Lily, I haven’t gone to half my classes. I’ve failed almost every one. I have a one-point-something GPA. They can kick out people that don’t meet their academic standards. They warned me last year, and I didn’t give a shit.”
“What?” I squeak. All this time, I thought he’d been pulling great grades, better than most, much better than me at least. “So…so you’ll go to Princeton with me. You can transfer. They’ll let you in with your last name.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “No, I’m not going back to college. It’s not for me, Lil.”
I process this. “So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Lo says. “How about get healthy first?”
“That works,” I murmur. “What about your father? Lo, if he finds out, he’ll take away your trust fund.”
“He won’t find out. I’ve already called admissions and told them not to contact him.”
I exhale in relief.
The car rolls to the curb. “We’ve arrived, Mr. Hale.”
I stiffen. That voice—that voice did not belong to Nola.
The driver shifts slightly, and I see the gray whiskers, feather hair, and glasses perched on a beak nose.
“Anderson,” Lo says tensely. Anderson, Jonathan Hale’s driver, the guy who has been known to rat us out. “Please don’t tell my father…”
“Have a nice night,” Anderson says with a fake smile. He spins back to the front, waiting for us to leave.
We do, and in my heart, I know that everything is about to change.
{27}
After a short conversation, we agree to spend the night apart. I stay with Rose at the Drake, and Ryke takes Lo to his apartment on campus. I only learn that his father calls him in the morning because Rose tells me.
He gave him the ultimatum we avoided and feared our whole lives. Go back to college, set your life straight, or else your trust fund will disappear. Months ago, Lo’s choice may have been different. He may have opted for college, transferring to Princeton or Penn State, going back into a familiar routine in a new setting. But I think we both realize that some things are worth more than a fancy lifestyle and padded wallet.
At breakfast, while I pick at a bowl of oatmeal in the living room, I’m not surprised when Rose tells me Lo stepped away from the money. She says it’s the most heroic thing he’s done in his life. The irony is that he’s not saving some damsel in a castle, he’s not rescuing a baby from a burning building—he’s helping himself. Maybe a little bit to save our relationship, but mostly, for him. And that’s the best reason there is. Beneath my fear, I am so, so proud.
In a few days, I’ll need to find the same bravery.
My sister sets a hand on my shoulder. “He’s coming over to grab some of his things. They’re leaving at noon.”
Pressure sits heavy on my chest, but I nod anyway. We also agreed that he should go to rehab as soon as possible. We’re afraid we’ll change our minds, that we’ll convince each other it’s not the right step and that we can work it out together. We can’t. We’ve tried that, and it ended with Lo drinking tequila in a hotel room and me, pulling him against my body.
Rose scoots next to me, and I make room for her on the couch. “How are you doing?” she asks, gathering my short hair and braiding the strands.
I shake my head. I have no words. In one night, Lo lost his trust fund, learned his father lied to him, and that he has a brother. We’re so connected, that I feel the hurt from the deception as if it was my own.
How could Jonathan lie to Lo for so long? I want to despise him for holding the truth, and yet, I can’t. He loves Lo. More than anyone will admit. He loves him so much that he decided to raise Lo instead of abandon him. He fears the thought of Lo going off to rehab, of learning that he failed as a father and that his son may move on without him. I think there’s a part in Jonathan that believes Lo will return home for money, that he’ll come back to him when he realizes the hardship of the working class. Maybe Lo will. Or maybe he’ll finally say goodbye to his father and never turn back.
“It’ll be hard at first,” Rose tells me, tying off my braid. “When’s the longest you’ve been away from him?”
I shake my head again. “I don’t know…a week, maybe.” It seems completely absurd, but it’s true. It’s like we’ve been married our whole lives, and now we have to separate. I know it’s for the best, but the hurt still festers like a new wound.
It was my sister.
I hold her hand and say, “Thank you.” Tears build. “I don’t know if I can do this without you.” Rose and I agreed to keep my addiction quiet from our parents and sisters. It’s not something that people can easily accept or understand, and I don’t want to spend my days justifying these compulsions. If Rose also thinks it’s for the best, then I must be making a sound decision.
“You’ll be able to. Not now, but you’ll get there.”
“I’m scared.” My throat hurts. I inhale a strained breath. “What if I cheat on him? What if I can’t wait?”
She squeezes my hand. “You will. You’re going to get through this, and I’m going to be there every step of the way.”
I wipe my cheeks and then wrap my arms around her, hugging for a long, long time. To say thanks, I’m sorry, and “I love you,” I whisper.
She strokes my hair. “I love you too.”
* * *
I stand on the sidewalk outside of the Drake. Snow-flurries kiss my cheeks as I wait for Lo. People dress in nice church clothes, heading to Christmas Eve mass or service. Tiny lights wrap around lamp poles, and wreaths with suede red ribbons hang on the outside of our apartment complex. The city stays in a celebratory mood while my heart clenches with each beat.
Ryke’s black Infinity hugs the curb. He tosses in Lo’s duffle bag and closes the trunk.
Lo has sleepless circles underneath his weary eyes, and he looks beaten and tired. Three feet separate our bodies, and I wonder who will close the space first—if at all.
“What do we say?” I breathe. “Goodbye?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “This isn’t goodbye, Lil. I’ll see you.” I don’t even know which rehab he’s going to. Ryke won’t tell me the address, but I have to trust that it’s a safe place and maybe imagine it’s not very far away.
Addicted to You Page 31
