by A. E. Murphy
“Nothing. Just stay at home, lock the doors and don’t open the door to anyone. Do you hear me?”
Gulp. “I hear you.”
“I love you, Gwen. I’ll be okay.”
I don’t believe that. I can only imagine how he’s feeling. “Okay.” Then I choke out. “I love you too.”
Well… this is a situation I’ve never been in before. I definitely do not like it.
But what else can I do?
My thoughts go to the boxes I have yet to unpack that I’ve placed at the back of my closet. My thoughts then start rifling through the contents. When my thoughts remind me of the one thing I need in order to do something I’d never consider under any other circumstances, I feel physically sick.
Blackmail is wrong. So wrong.
But this is Nathan… if I can get Mr Weston to drop the charges…
This isn’t me! I don’t do stuff like this!
Besides, I wouldn’t even know where to start. How would I even get in touch with him?
Nathan’s office springs to mind. He’s bound to have some kind of contact number for his dad in there. He’d hate it if I were to go through his things though. Maybe I can find a contact number for his solicitor. Then I’ll hopefully find out what’s going on. That seems like more of a rational thing to do.
As I push open the door I wince at the scent of bleach, the same scent that assaulted me when we lived in the village and the same scent that assaulted me when I caught him watching SpongeBob on his laptop.
“Put it down,” I demanded, glaring at the bottle in his hand before tugging it away.
“But…”
“I already cleaned yesterday. I used plenty of bleach. It doesn’t need more.”
“You didn’t clean it enough,” he snapped, pointing to the skirting boards which, in my opinion, were sparkling.
“You’re demented. The fumes aren’t good for Dillan. If you want to bleach something, bleach your office.”
We stood staring at each other, neither of us relenting, neither of us giving in. “I’ll just do it while you’re gone. He’ll be crawling soon. He needs clean floors.”
“A layer of bleach and a layer of sterilising fluid is plenty clean, Nathan. He needs to be exposed to dirt and germs or he’ll never have an immune system.”
“But…”
“Fine, let’s compromise.” I smirked and flicked my hair over my shoulder. “If you bleach after I’ve already done it, I get to keep eggs where I can reach them and see them.”
He chewed on his lower lip for a moment before snatching back the bottle and heading towards his office. After a fist pump and a victory jig, I called after him, “You should really see somebody about that Nathan!”
To which he responded by slamming his office door, which only made me laugh... a lot.
The place is sparkling, as I expected it would be. I remember the first time I wandered into Nathan’s territory when he was ill. I was pregnant at the time. I feel a lot like I did then. Like an intruder.
This is his space; it’s the only place he doesn’t like being disturbed.
But he’s not here, so I’m going to take my chances. I’m sure he’ll understand.
Without another thought, I head straight to his leather chair and take a seat. I begin to check through the drawers for a phonebook, anything, but come up with nothing but files and boring paperwork.
In the bottom drawer I find a sketch book and have a quick flick through it. It’s full of jewellery designs. Nathan’s drawing skills are basic, but the shape of the jewellery speaks for itself. He’s got so much talent.
I finger the faint pencil lines fondly before carefully putting it back and sitting back in the chair.
What am I doing? I rub my face with both hands and sigh deeply.
“I’m never going to find anything in here,” I mutter to nobody and stare at the empty space where his laptop should be. I know he keeps most things on there, but he usually takes it with him wherever he goes, so that is a dead end.
I walk over to the filing cabinets in the corner and start thumbing through the almost empty drawers. Dead end… yet again.
I’m about to give up, when I remember the medium sized lockbox he carried from the car and straight into his office not too long ago. It was after his last trip to his house in the village.
Maybe that has something I can use… or maybe I’m just curious. But where would he keep it?
The room is basically empty, save for a few pictures on his desk, which sits in the centre of the room. There’s a large filing cabinet in the corner and a small, dark leather couch in the far corner.
If I were a lockbox, where would I hide?
I almost laugh at myself. Sometimes I can be really weird.
I check under the drawers of the desk, behind the couch, behind the filing cabinet… nothing. Where the hell is it?
As I’m rechecking the drawers, I almost slap myself. The middle drawer has a hidey space. I pull everything out and place it neatly on the desk before tugging up the thin base of the drawer. Jackpot!
There’s no key to said lockbox… sigh. He probably carries it with him.
What’s this?
I pick up the small leather bound book and notice the journal I bought for him a while ago hiding beneath it. Smiling, I unwrap the leather strap from around the small book in my hand and flick to the first page. My hands immediately snap it shut when I realise it’s a diary of sorts. As much as I want to read it and see into Nathan’s mind, I’d never betray him like that.
Something flutters to the ground, a single, folded sheet of paper. Shit. I’ll never find what page it was placed on!
I carefully pick it up from the ground and I’m about to guess a page to slide it under when the large title shines through the thin paper.
Last Will and Testament
My fingers tremble as I peel it open and stare at the opening line, written in familiar scruffy handwriting.
Dated… two days before he died.
Signed by Nathan Weston and… Sasha Rutter.
My heart shatters and my hand flies to my mouth. My entire body begins to shake and the pain I feel in my chest is unbearable.
Why would Caleb write a Will and Testament?
He didn’t know he was dying… he didn’t know.
He didn’t.
And Sasha didn’t know either. She wouldn’t betray me like that.
My mouth trembles as a lump forms in my throat. I read through the scruffy handwriting that states everything Caleb owned was to go to me upon his death, including his trust fund, car, life insurance…
Powerful tears beat at my eyes, making them sting and automatically close, pushing the salty fluid of sorrow from my eyes.
The hole in my heart, that was slowly filling, is now tearing open and gaping even bigger than before. It’s as if it no longer exists for anything other than to hold pain.
I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, I know I shouldn’t.
But why would Nathan keep this from me? Why would Sasha keep this from me?
Does this have something to do with what Mr Weston has been sending me? Something in my mind tells me that this has everything to do with what Mr Weston has been sending me.
A flood of thoughts enter my mind, the first being Sasha. When we went to the park she hinted that it felt strange the way Caleb died, almost as if telling me to look into it, but I refused.
Her being okay with me and Nathan way before there ever was a Nathan and I. She was almost pushy with it. I remember because Tommy snapped at her to leave it.
It’s almost as if she knew Caleb wasn’t what he said he was and she wanted me to stop grieving and move on. Why didn’t I find it weird? Am I really that dense? It’s like a screaming, flashing alarm now.
Nathan… when he said his brother wasn’t who I thought he was… I thought he was referring to the whole him taking me first.
But… how did Caleb know he was dying and I didn’t? He was only ill for a few days
before he left the earth.
I clumsily wipe away my tears and carefully place the will on the top of Nathan’s desk. I stare at it for a long moment, willing it to vanish from the desk and my memory.
A cold wave of numbness washes through me, attacking every cell in my body until, finally, my tears dry and I feel nothing.
“Sasha,” I say to her sleepy voice when she answers the phone.
“Yeah? It’s midnight. What’s wrong? Is Dillan okay?”
“I need you to come round; it’s an emergency.” I state. “Dillan is fine.”
“Oh… okay, sure. I’ll be there in fifteen.” She hangs up and I fight the urge to slam my phone down on the desk.
A broken phone is not needed right now.
What do I do? What do I say?
The minute she walks in, I place the will in her hands. Her eyes go wide and her body starts trembling. “Where’s Nathan?”
“Arrested. I’m not sure why. He was in London when it happened.” I take the will back and make my way towards the living room, where I place it on the coffee table. “I’d like an explanation from you, seeing as it’s impossible for me to get one from him right now.”
“Gwen, it’s… complicated. I didn’t want anything to do with it,” she whispers solemnly. “Please believe me. I mean… the will isn’t even legal. Technically.”
“It’s not about the will. It’s not about the money I haven’t received!” I snap, glaring at her. “Did he know he was dying?”
She gulps and very slowly nods her head. “It’s complicated.”
“How did you find out?” I hiss, feeling the pieces of my heart that shattered upon Caleb’s death slowly shrivel to dust. An ache I can’t describe begins in my stomach. It feels like something is crawling inside me. I want to heave; I want to vomit. Instead I stare at her blankly, needing answers.
Her eyes fill with unshed tears and her voice is hoarse when she speaks. “I… I caught him doing something and he had to tell me. I didn’t want any part of it, but… he was… he wasn’t right towards the end. He was desperate to leave something behind. Anything behind.”
My spine stiffens as her words penetrate my anger. “What are you talking about, Sasha? What did you catch him doing?”
“Babe… please…”
“What did you catch him doing?” I screech almost hysterically, my lower lip trembling.
“He was swapping out your birth control pills,” she says, so quietly I can barely hear her.
My breath leaves me in a whoosh, my eyes widen in horror.
Her hands go up defensively. “It was already too late! I was going to tell you. He begged me not to, but it was already too late! You found out you were pregnant the next day. I… panicked. I didn’t want to ruin that for you. Caleb said there was no use telling you now. God… I’m so sorry.” Her tears fall, but I feel no sympathy.
“Did Tommy know?”
“No!” She shakes her head frantically. “No of course he didn’t. Please Gwen… forgive me. I swear I didn’t want to hurt you. I wanted nothing to do with it but… you were already so down about the pregnancy. I thought that if I told you… it would just tip you over the edge.”
“You should have told me!” I shout.
“I know… but you only had months left with Caleb and then that turned into weeks. He deteriorated fast. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to marry you before…” She sniffs and wipes her nose on a tissue from her pocket. “It was awful. I wanted to tell you so many times. I wanted you to figure it out.”
“How… what was wrong with him? He always seemed fine to me.”
“Brain tumour. I’ve forgotten the name of it. He’d been in remission for years. They said they couldn’t remove it, but it should remain benign. It didn’t. It was at the very top of the back of his neck. You’ll have to ask Nathan; he knows more about it than I do.”
“What else do you know?” I need to know as much as possible. I need to know everything.
“He was sick with it when he was little. He didn’t get the all clear until he was about thirteen. Nathan… he was going to tell you. He was so angry.”
I nod, sorting out my thoughts as everything clicks into place.
I remember asking Nathan not long ago….
“Was… umm… was Caleb…”
“No.”
“I don’t understand why it was just you that…”
“Caleb rarely went to our grandfather’s. Maybe he didn’t have the opportunity.”
I remember not believing him. Something didn’t seem right.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad that he wasn’t… I wish you hadn’t had to… but…”
“Spit it out.”
“It makes no sense that he’d only target you.”
Caleb was too sick to stay at his grandfather’s, too sick to be a subject of his abuse. Nathan was probably pushed out so his parents could take better care of Caleb.
I want to be angry. I want to be sad. I want to be… anything! But… I can’t muster any kind of emotion. I don’t know how to deal with this.
“Gwen,” Sasha says softly, her hand resting on my shoulder.
I look at her, my eyes as hollow as I feel inside. “I need your help with something.”
“Anything,” she promises.
Good, because for this she’s going to need a backbone.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
I haven’t slept all night. I’m not sure why. I don’t feel anything, so I’d probably be able to sleep easily. Exhaustion is definitely one of the more prominent feelings in my body right now.
Sasha is curled up in the chair by the window, her eyes puffy from crying. I haven’t spoken to her in a couple of hours. I don’t have anything to say.
She hasn’t said anything either; she doesn’t have anything to say.
It’s light out when I hear a car in the driveway. I don’t move from my spot on the couch.
When the door opens, Sasha sits bolt upright in her seat and stares at me. I remain numb, my head resting on my hand on the arm of the couch.
Nathan walks in looking dishevelled and worried. I try to muster up an ounce of sympathy at his time inside. I fail.
“Hey,” he says warily and his eyes go to Sasha. “What’s going on? You look like you haven’t slept a wink.” His tone is warm, soothing. I hate him for trying to be nice right now.
He cautiously walks this way and takes the seat closest to me. His hand goes to my thigh and I can’t be bothered to hold back the wince.
His eyes go to Sasha, who nods towards the table. He glances at it, looks back to me and then whips his head around to stare at the table once more. When he fully reads the bold words on the sheet of paper, he lets out a choked gasp and grips my thigh with an almost bruising force.
“Gwen?” He whispers, his shaking hand moving from my thigh to my face. “Look at me. Please.” I do. He winces at the look he sees there. “I love you.”
Does he? I can’t even remember what love is anymore.
“Don’t you want to know how I found out?” I ask, my voice hoarse from lack of use and lack of water.
He shakes his head. “No, but I’d really like to tell you my side.”
“Your side?” I ask incredulously. “You mean your part in it?”
“No… I mean yes. Please, let me explain,” he whispers and kneels in front of me.
“You knew all along he was going to die.”
His eyes fill with shame. “I did, but…”
“Then there’s nothing you can say that will change anything. You didn’t tell me. You let him be with me and get me pregnant!”
His eyes snap to Sasha, who instantly says, “I had to tell her, Nathan.”
He almost chocolate browns close for a few seconds. When they come back to me, they’re soft and sad. “Caleb wasn’t in the right frame of mind towards the end, but he loved you.”
Yeah right.
“He loved you a lot. You asked me why I hit him…” I look
away, but his hand comes to my face and gently moves it so I’m looking into his eyes once more. “After I found out he’d taken you in the back of his car - or at least I thought he had; I now know he was telling the truth when he said he didn’t - I confronted him. He told me he was falling for you, that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
I almost snort at this. Caleb was lying, obviously.
“He had this obsession with leaving something behind before he died. A legacy of sorts. But he convinced me it wasn’t about that anymore. I tried to get him away from you, but he wouldn’t budge. I genuinely believe he loved you. And then… the doctor told him he had months left, if that.”
“The tumour,” I say, and nod to Sasha. “She told me about that.”
“Yes.” He nods, lowering his head for a moment. “He thought he’d have years; we all did. We were wrong, obviously. I think he panicked. When I realised he’d gone back on his word, it was already too late. I confronted him. You were there, but you were already pregnant. I couldn’t tell you; I didn’t have the heart to.”
“The night you punched him.”
“Yes.” His eyes glitter with wetness and his hands grip mine. “It was messed up, the entire situation.”
I stare at him for a while, willing some sort of emotion to surface. “Why were you in town that day? Why did you take me in?”
“He came back to deliver the will, but like I said, it’s probably not even legal.” Sasha responds for him.
“I’ve got this Sasha,” Nathan snaps. Dillan’s wail pierces the silence that follows.
Sasha stands. “I’ll sort him. You two talk.”
Nathan nods his appreciation and turns back to me. “I came back to give you the will.”
“But you didn’t,” I point out, thinking back to that day. “You didn’t even mention it. And how does Sasha know you were there for that reason?”
“Because I promised Caleb when we signed it that I’d give it immediately to you and sort out a solicitor. When I didn’t and you moved in with me, Sasha confronted me that night she and Tommy stayed over. She couldn’t say anything because it would implicate her too. She knew once you saw the will you’d probably never speak to either of us again. She…” He clears his throat, his eyes imploring me to pay attention. “She saw that you were healing. She saw that you were well looked after. I promised her I was getting the money my father stole and would give it to you, but…”
