Heart in a Box

by Ally Sky

  "Then let me change that," he bursts out, but he can't penetrate my armor. I hear him, but push him away.

  "What for? So you'll hurt her like you hurt me?"

  "Elizabeth, please."

  "I was sitting in the examination room and the doctor asked if I wanted to call someone and without thinking I said no. We got used to being alone, only she and me. My mother brought me here and we didn't miss you." I turn the knife in his heart.

  "Don't do that," he whispers.

  "I hate you!" I cry loudly. "And I'm hurting. I've been hurting for years. I'm tired, I'm twenty-six, and I'm tired, it's not fair."

  "Let me in, let me be in her life. Don't take it away from her, she needs a father."

  "I needed a husband," I whisper.

  "Elizabeth . . ." He seemed about to say something, but cut himself off. My eyes burn and I wipe the tears with my palm as Vivian moves in the bed, sighing quietly.

  "I have to go. Good bye, Colin." I hang up without letting him add a word, put the phone back in my bag and lay my head on the bed beside Viv. Please don’t let her hurt her when she wakes. I'll solve the rest, one way or another.

  "Elizabeth!" The scream coming from the hallway makes my body hysterical and I glance at Vivian who is still asleep. "Elizabeth Heart!"

  My mother, sitting on the chair next to me, tries to stop me, but I shake her off and jump to the door.

  "Elizabeth!" Colin roars, and I hear the commotion growing around him.

  "What are you doing here?" I glare at the puffed-up guy standing panting in a tailored white button-down shirt and black trousers, giving him a threatening look. The two nurses standing behind him seem helpless against his size, especially with his sleeves folded in a way that exposes his tattooed, enormous arms.

  "Are you kidding me?" he fires back. "Did you really think I'd sit at home with my daughter in the hospital?"

  "Lower your voice," I strain between clenched teeth, staring at him with a look that could kill. "She doesn't know about you."

  "And if you want it to stay that way, over the next few minutes you'll update me on her condition. Starting now." He dares to throw an unspoken threat into the air.

  "Do you think that's what I need right now, to deal with you?" I turn my hand to him with contempt. My mother comes out of the room and puts her hand on my shoulder, but I shake her off again. He thinks I'll let him get close to Vivian? I glance over my shoulder at my mother, who is staring wide-eyed at the new Colin standing in front of her.

  Yes, Mom, he's changed.

  "Don't mind him," I respond scornfully to her catatonic state, "he has time to spend in the gym. Money too, don't you, Colin?"

  "Elizabeth," Colin's jaw locks, his nostrils flaring. "Start talking."

  "Remind me who you are?" I clasp my hands on my chest. Now I'll give him a taste, the power is mine.

  "Mrs. Heart," Dr. Diaz comes out of the room next to ours, quickly realizing that he has a problem in the middle of the emergency room. He glances between Colin and me.

  "Don't interfere." Colin stands his ground.

  "And who are you?" Our doctor doesn't retreat, he doesn't seem alarmed by the size of my ex.

  "He's nobody," I shoot an arrow straight into Colin's gut, which must be turning over now.

  "I'm Vivian's father."

  "And where exactly is that written?" I don't stop myself. He is about to find out there's a heavy price for his disappearance.

  "Elizabeth," his voice sounds more and more threatening.

  "I'm sorry, were you going to say something?" Our eyes lock, and his blue eyes are burning.

  "Excuse me, Mr . . ." Dr. Diaz steps in my direction and stands beside me in a protective posture.

  "Young." The doctor's movement in my direction seemed to raise Colin's nerve threshold to a new level.

  "Mr. Young, are you the legal guardian of Vivian?" The wonderful Dr. Diaz isn't stupid, and he knows his work, thank God.

  "He's not," I reply confidently.

  "You're playing with fire." Colin gives me a warning finger.

  "I don't think so," I shrug. "Are you leaving alone or should we call for security?"

  "Lizzie!" my mother cries out. I guess the beefed up guy has more influence on her than me. She doesn't want to find out what will happen if he decides to use his muscles. I, on the other hand, am not afraid at all.

  "Don't interfere!" I don't take my gaze off Colin.

  "Maybe you should listen to your mother," Colin makes another futile attempt to get something from me.

  "The days when you tell me what to do are gone," I sneer at him. "Are you leaving or should the good doctor call for someone to escort you out?"

  "Mr. Young," Dr. Diaz interjects again, "I suggest you two solve this later. I have patients to take care of. Vivian is one of them and I'm sure you want her to get my full attention."

  "This is far from over." Colin turns his finger again.

  "Whatever," I wave him off. He gives me one last look, turns his massive back on us and walks agitatedly down the hall, slamming the wall hard on his way out.

  Suddenly I can't breathe. The adrenaline evaporates at once. I fall to my knees, my strength gone. Dr. Diaz quickly puts his hand on my shoulder, presses his fingers on it, while I'm struggling for the next breath. What will Colin do now?

  Later, in the house, I leave the bedroom door open a little so I can hear Vivian and sit down at the dining table in front of the cup of coffee Mom made me. Completely shaken by everything that happened, I sip and confess. "I called him when she was out."

  "That's how he knew where you were."

  "Yes," I lower my head. "And I hate who I've become. I called him to hurt him." You were upset.

  "Don't make excuses for me." I know I was upset, and still I loathe what's been coming out of me in recent weeks. It's not me, that's not how I was raised and not who I want to be. What happened today, the way I responded and the terrible phone call I made, reveal aspects of me I don't like.

  My daughter has a father. I can hate him 'till tomorrow, and that fact won't change. I have to start internalizing it, before I become a bitter monster and lose whoever I am in this storm.

  "Elizabeth," my mother puts her hand on my forearm. "What do you want?"

  "I have no idea," I shake my head.

  "To punish him?"

  "Sometimes. Does it make me a terrible person that I want to punish him for what he did to me?"

  "Even if Viv will be the one to pay the price?" she challenges me.

  "I want the life he promised me," my voice cracks."

  "You can't have it. What you can have is a chance, a chance that your child will have a father, a chance that he will stay, a chance that he will be a good dad."

  "A risk," I correct her.

  "Take it. You won't forgive yourself if you chase him away."

  "If he hurts her he's dead," I counter. "He won't hurt you unless you let him."

  "I was talking about Viv." I raise my head and stare at my mom.

  "And I was talking about you." She doesn't fold in front of my penetrating gaze. "I may be old, but I'm not stupid. I'm your mother, and I know you. You're afraid to let him get close."

  "Don't be ridiculous," I snort. "I hate him."

  "There's a thin line . . . your history haunts you."

  "Bullshit." She won't sell me that cliché about the thin line between love and hate. I know what I feel.

  "Give me the name of one guy who took his place in the last four years, and I'll leave the subject." She insists on proving her stupid point.

  I raise my hand in a dismissive gesture, "Who had time? I wasn't free to have a relationship, and you know it."

  "I was talking about your bed."

  "I have a four year old in my bedroom." What does she think I can do there?

  "Ever heard of a babysitter?" she rolls her eyes. "You had one man. One. Deep down you waited for him."

  "You should see a doctor," I dismiss her. I didn't wait for a
nyone. At first, maybe. In the months after Vivian was born, sure. I thought he'd come back, but it was a long time ago, and I've learned not to wait any longer and live my life. If I had no one else, it's because…

  "When you stop lying to yourself, you can let him come closer." My mother stands up and then leans over and kisses my head. "Call if you need me."

  I put my hands on the table and lower my head on them, closing my eyes. It's so much easier to look in from the outside and judge. Easier to give advice when it's not your life that's about to change.

  Colin Young: I hope you have a good lawyer.

  An incoming message beeps at ten-thirty, as I sit next to Vivian and watch her sleep. I walk quietly out of the bedroom, pour myself a glass of wine and fiddle with the phone between my fingers.

  I didn't really believe I’d startled him, but now I'm about to find out the price of the war.I sit down on the couch and dial in an attempt to soothe my heartbeat.

  "Colin?" I ask, when I think he answers the call without saying a word.

  "How can I help you?" His voice is cold and distant.

  "Listen—”

  "You listen now," he says angrily. "You can be as angry as you want, but once you say she ain't my daughter—”

  "That's not what I said," I defend myself without success.

  "That's exactly what you said!" he raises his voice in a roar.

  "You surprised me, from the moment you came back, all you do is surprise me. You sat in your car, in front of my parent's house…do you know what would have happened if my dad had seen you?"

  "I don't give a shit about your father," he replies angrily.

  "I do. He's Vivian's grandfather, you can't just show up everywhere."

  "If you'd meet me, I wouldn't have to show up," he emphasizes the words.

  "Colin, please," I sigh in frustration.

  "Do you want to give me your lawyer's phone number or make the effort and meet me?"

  His request makes my heart drop and find a place somewhere at my feet. Can I even sit down and talk to him? How terrible would it be? How painful? Sitting in front of the guy who abandoned me and didn't even bother to apologize?

  "Are you there?"

  "I'm here," I whisper.

  "How's Vivian doing?" His voice loses some of the toughness he shows me. I can tell him, it's probably better than a letter from his lawyer. If we get into a legal battle, all the money he gave me will be lost. Viv's future will go to hell, and I want to keep the money. God only knows when I'll need it. "She slept for most of the afternoon," I update him quietly. "I guess she'll be okay tomorrow."

  "What did the doctor say?"

  "The usual instructions, not to wet the seams in the first twenty-four hours, to keep her from going wild. That's not a problem."

  "She's four and a half." He doubts my words.

  "She's not too naughty, she's a good girl." And if you'd stayed, you'd know that. You would know how wonderful she is, smart, stubborn, and how loved she is.

  "She's your daughter." He knows the stories about my childhood. I was a geek from the day I was born.

  "She looks like you. A small, accurate copy of yours." He already knows that. He discovered it alone when he sat in the car and watched us. What if that wasn't the first time? What if he's been following us for weeks, months? Maybe he's even been photographing me, collecting information for the law-suit he's going to bring down on me. If he tries to portray me as an incompetent mother, I'll kill him.

  "Does that make you angry?" Colin's hesitant voice forces me to put aside for a moment the growing anxiety in my heart. "When you look at her?"

  "No. She's not at fault." It's just hard on things, that's all.

  "Do you think you can send me a picture of her?" His request makes me miss another beat.

  If he's serious, he'll find a way, and that won't be your way. My mother's words echo in my head. If he wants to see her picture, he will find the way to get one. At least this way I'll have some control over the matter.

  "Hold on," I move the phone from my ear, go into the pictures gallery and choose one: Vivian playing in the sandbox, looking at the camera and smiling broadly. Her hair shines in the sun and her blue eyes fill the screen. I send the picture and return to the conversation.

  "Colin?" I ask after a few seconds of silence.

  "I'm here," he answers. I think he put the conversation on speaker, probably staring at the picture.

  "She's stunning, isn't she?"

  "Yes," he mumbles hoarsely.

  "You killed me, Colin. Piece by piece. If I had not been pregnant I wouldn't have survived it."

  "I am asking again, meet me." Again his voice stabilizes, increasing the distance between us.

  "I need to stay with Vivian at home tomorrow. I can meet you Thursday at four. I can ask my mother to pick up Viv so we’ll have time."

  "Where?" he asks immediately.

  "There's a place, not far from my work, a small café. We can sit there quietly."

  "I'll be there, send me the address."

  "I need to check on Vivian."

  "I'll see you on Thursday."

  "Good night, Colin."

  "Good night, Elizabeth." He hangs up the call, I lean back and sip my wine. Did I just make the biggest mistake of my life?

  Chapter 8

  "Don't touch me!" Colin stands in my bedroom, his eyes darting, shirt torn and sweaty. "And don't look at me with your pitying looks!"

  My legs tremble and my heart goes wild. I stand helpless facing something that feels overwhelming, way too big for me to handle.

  "Let me help you."

  "You can't help me!" he bursts out.

  "You can sleep here tonight," I suggest without thinking, not sure the idea will be welcomed by my parents.

  "That's the best solution you could come up with?" The scorn in his voice is jarring.

  "If you want to unleash your anger on me, go ahead!" I shoot back. "But I'm not the one who beats you, not the one who did this to you, I'm the one who loves you!"

  I freeze, taking in what I said. I've been hiding it from him for six months, pretending that I'm only interested in helping him with school, that I'm excited to see him succeed. For six months I have been silent, and now the truth stands between us.

  "No one can love me." He stares at me with contempt. "I know what you really think—poor Colin, it's not enough that he's stupid, he's letting his father beat the crap out of him too."

  "I don't think you're stupid," I murmur awkwardly.

  "No, you're stupid, if you think you love me."

  "I'm smarter than you'll ever be, and I'm sorry if you think my love makes me stupid." The choking in my throat grows. If you know what's good for you, you won't cry in front of him.

  "What do you know about love?"

  "Enough," I whisper. "Enough for both of us."

  "You're embarrassing yourself," he mumbles.

  “I am willing to embarrass myself if it means not hiding anymore. You can accept my suggestion to sleep here or go. Your choice."

  "You don't love me." He doesn't take his eyes off me.

  "Think what you want."

  "You don't love me."

  "Colin . . ." I whisper in embarrassment. Why doesn't he believe me?

  "You don't love me!"

  "I do!" I shout at him with all my might, and before I understand what is happening, he clings to me, his hands in my hair, his mouth covering my mouth and his tongue meeting mine. I can't breathe, and I'm willing to never breathe again, if it means he won't stop. I don't want him to stop kissing me. Ever.

  I can do this.

  Wiping the dust off one of the store shelves, I'm convincing myself everything will be all right. I'll sit in the cafe opposite the man who was supposed to be my husband and act like a grown woman.

  After all, if the only reason I'm meeting him is to throw more accusations his way, what's the point? I could just as well cancel now. No, I have to see him and decide whether to let him ge
t close to my daughter or fight him with everything I have.

  You have nothing.

  It's just another thing I hate about him—this insecurity, which never leaves. All that happened in the four years we were together was a show. The friends who surrounded us were never my friends. They were his party and disappeared on the day Colin disappeared. What do football players and the “Library Geek” have in common, right? It must have not surprised them that he left. They must have asked themselves behind our backs, when will it end and what does he do with her?

  Hell, why am I thinking about it now? I have to relax and meet him, and get it over with. That's all.

  At the entrance to the little cafe I've chosen I take a deep breath and glare at my clothes. How appropriate. I'm still the girl in jeans, t-shirt and sneakers.

  I open the door and go inside, the wonderful smell of fresh coffee engulfs the place. Looking around, my heart skips a beat when I recognize the pair of familiar blue eyes fixed on me. Colin, dressed in a black polo shirt that's tight on his huge arms, doesn't take his eyes off me. I manage to make my legs move toward the table. His enormous body rises, and then freezes.

  Yes, Colin, I'm not really in the mood for a hug.

  "Elizabeth," he mumbles with a touch of discomfort.

  "Hello, Colin," I reply coldly, sitting down on the creaking metal chair. Lifting the menu like a barrier between us, I prevent myself from looking at him for a few seconds, at least until I gather my thoughts.

  He's huge. Seriously, I don't want to think about it, but every muscle in his body looks sculpted. It’s the last thing I needed. If only he had come back with a massive beer belly and balding hair. No, he had to look like this, like a guy no woman refuses.

  "Do you have a girlfriend?" I'm experiencing a total failure between my brain and mouth, placing the menu on the table and staring hard at the blond who looks stunned.

  "No," he replies immediately. "Not right now."

  "Not right now," I reply contemptuously and cross my hands on my chest defensively. What kind of answer is that? Do you have a girlfriend or don't you? What do you mean, not right now? Are you looking for one?