Heart in a Box

by Ally Sky

  "I don't understand a word you're saying." She sounds confused. "What debts? What money?"

  "Ask your husband." I wipe my cheek with the back of my hand. "Ask him what happened, ask him how he ruined my life!"

  I hang up the phone and sob, my head falling to the wheel with the feeling that the world has come to an end. Where am I going from here? A cruel headache begins to pound in my temples. Ever since Colin came back, it feels like all I do is cry. He broke my heart so many years ago and he keeps breaking it, over and over again. I have to gain back control, but how can I? And how could my father, of all the people in the world, have been able to do that?

  I can't move the car from the parking lot in front of the office building, can't move my legs. I ignore the phone that's ringing, and then ringing again.

  They're looking for me . . . let them.

  If Viv hadn't discovered that Colin is her father, I'd pack our suitcases and get the hell away, but now I can't do that to her. She expects to meet him, and I don't want to think about the moment when I'll have to open the door and bring him back into our lives, her life.

  In a few hours she will be back from daycare asking to see him, and I will have to agree.

  If you'd just come to me, Colin, and told me back then, we'd have solved the problem somehow. If you had not run away, everything might have looked different.

  My mom wipes a tear from the corner of her eye as she stands behind me in the bridal salon and watches me measure my wedding dress. It's design is so simple, so me. I don't care that my belly is showing and that my chest has grown at least one size. I'd better shut my mouth and not make a mistake remarking how pleased Colin is.

  To be honest, I'm pleased too, especially when my fiancé stares at me at every opportunity and then leaps on me. How fortunate am I? Colin knows how to kiss, and he . . . knows what he's doing, not that I have anything to compare to. Unlike me he came with experience, a thought I repress successfully most of the time.

  In the end, no matter how many girls he was with, I'm the one he is marrying. Next week he'll put a ring on my finger, for better or for worse, and I can't wait. I long eagerly for the time we'll go shopping for a baby crib, for the moment we'll hold her in our arms.

  Colin will be an amazing father, I know it. He will protect her as only he can.

  He will lay the world at our feet, as he promised, but it will be only the icing on the cake, because I already have everything I've dreamed of. Everything I need.

  God only knows how I managed to get home, how I didn't get in an accident. How I pressed the gas and steered the wheel, how I pulled the brake and parked, shutting off the engine. My autopilot finally kicked into action and got me here, to the couch where I have been crying for an hour and a half. Whoever is knocking on my door can disappear.

  "Elizabeth!" My mom's voice reverberates. "Open the door now!"

  "Go away," I cry, "I don't want to see you."

  "I'm not asking you, I have a key. Open the door or I'll let myself in!"

  "What don't you understand?" I scream. "Go away, and take everybody with you!"

  I hear the key enter the keyhole, turning and opening the bolt. The knob goes down and the door opens, my mom storming inside.

  "Get off the sofa, now!" She walks briskly toward me.

  "No." I curl up, bring my knees to my chest and hug them tightly.

  "Stop acting like a child and deal with the situation." She stands in front of me with a frown.

  "Don't tell me what to do." I turn my back to her.

  "You're not a baby, stop acting like one."

  "Excuse me?" My body seems to be moving on its own. "I'm a baby?"

  "Excellent, you're standing, now you're acting like a grown woman."

  "Is that all you wanted, for me to stand up?" I exclaim.

  "Elizabeth," she breathes deeply, her eyes burning, "I just got out of your father's office, I'm not in the mood for games."

  "What did he have to say?" I roll my eyes in contempt.

  "Not much, as you can imagine, and I didn't have the patience to listen to his excuses. Now explain to me from the beginning." She seems to have no intention of settling down, standing in the middle of my little living room and crossing her arms.

  "Colin's father got into debt," I repeat Colin's story, only now believing him, or at least a large part of it. "The thugs who wanted to collect the debt came to our house on our wedding day and beat the crap out of Colin, just as Dad came in to fetch my veil. Colin had no money. You know what state we were in. So your husband found a creative solution—he paid the guys so they would not come back to find Colin and me and then he made my fiancé leave."

  "What do you mean forced him?" She looks as skeptical as I was when I heard the story just hours ago.

  "He threatened to hurt him, that he would end up like Thomas Brooke." The second the name leaves my lips her face turns pale.

  "Thomas Brooke died in a car accident," she says with difficulty.

  "And Dad told Colin that it was what awaited him if he stayed."

  "And he believed him?" She looks stunned, like a mirror that reflects me.

  "Colin was laying on the floor bleeding, I think he would have believed anything at that moment," I whisper in pain as pictures begin to crystallize in my head. My mind is doing the worst thing it can, forcing me to imagine the man I loved lying where I'm standing now, wounded and bruised.

  "Your father didn't kill Thomas Brooke," she shakes her head. "He might have wanted to, but it was a combination of alcohol and speed."

  "How can you be sure?" I mutter.

  "Because I know him, he wouldn't. Thomas Brooke was at a party, got into the car and crashed into a tree, and when that happened, I didn't shed a tear."

  "It doesn't change the fact that he paid the bullies and made my fiancé disappear." My father may not be a murderer, but he's still another kind of shit.

  "No," she stares at me sternly, "it doesn't change that fact. That's why he's packing his things right now and going to find another place to live."

  "He's what?" My heart falls in pure panic.

  "He needs to think about the consequences and overcome his hatred. What he did to you . . . It's beyond forgiveness."

  So now my parents are separating? Now my mom will pay the price?

  "I shouldn't have told you." I hold my head in both hands.

  "And then what, would you lie to me like he did?"

  "He didn't mean to." My father definitely didn't expect for my mom to divorce him. Why the hell am I defending him?

  "Your father is an adult and he should have known better. Colin was only twenty one then and he wanted to protect you. He saw no way out."

  "Don't do that," I point a warning finger. "Don't take his side."

  "I'm not taking sides, I'm just calling it as I see it."

  "Don't tell me why he left, because I know well enough, he chose not to come to me!"

  "I won't argue with you about that." She gives up in surrender, when a knock at the door causes both of us to look away together.

  "It's your father."

  "It's Colin."

  We say together in one breath without moving our gazes. The air in the room seems to freeze, and for a moment I forget the summer outside, as waves of chill passes through my body.

  "Elizabeth?" The bass voice I feared echoes from the other side.

  "I can't talk to him," I whisper.

  "You can." My mom ignores me and takes a step toward the door.

  "Stop!" I shout at her, "Vivian knows about him, it's not that simple."

  My mom turns slowly, her body tense. "When did you tell her?"

  "She found out yesterday on accident and she's expecting him to come today. What am I going to do?" I whisper in horror.

  "You open the door and listen to him." She throws herself out of her halt and advances with her plan to get my ex in the house.

  "Mom, please," I implore her, almost pleading, but she doesn't answer my request and
opens the door.

  "Mrs. Heart." Colin loses his ample confidence when he stands in front of my mom, who doesn't take away her accusing gaze.

  "I'm glad you know who I am." She stands in the doorway and still doesn't let him in.

  "I'm sorry." He bothers to apologize to her? Where are all the apologizes he owes me?

  "Stupid boy," she says to him. "If my husband had problems, you should have come to me. You knew me well enough to know I could handle him."

  "I just wanted to protect Elizabeth." He puts his hands in his pockets.

  "You failed, young man." She doesn't approve. "You left her alone. Do you think she was safe, that her heart was protected?"

  "Elizabeth," he looks over my mom's shoulder and our eyes lock, confused and helpless.

  "If I were you I'd grovel." She opens the door and lets him walk inside. "Call me later, I want to know what the boy has to say."

  Colin knows it's best for him to shut up and not resent the nickname my mom chose.

  "I'll call," I strain in suspense as she steps out and closes the door behind her, leaving me to face my new reality.

  "Elizabeth—” Colin opens his mouth, but I cut him off.

  "Why don't you call me Liz?" My eyes are fixed on his surprised face.

  "I didn't think . . ." He frowns, as if straining his mind to find a good answer.

  "No, Colin, you didn't think."

  "I just can't." He remains standing at a safe distance from me by the front door. Not taking any step in my direction.

  "Can't what, show some humanity?" I insult him.

  "Show you affection." His answer leaves me slack jawed.

  "You don't like me?" I mutter through the curtain of shock on my face.

  "Is that what you think I said?" He seems astonished by my conclusion. "I didn't say I don't like you, I said I can't show you affection."

  "Just as you can't apologize," I add more fuel to the burning fire that is our lives.

  "Yes," he nods.

  "You should apologize!" I roar out of nowhere, my patience over. "I deserve an apology, I deserve a thousand apologies and you'll give them to me, you owe them to me!"

  "I can't!" He raises his voice back at me, his words hitting me like a fist to my belly, threatening to fold me to the floor.

  "When exactly did you stop loving me?"

  "Elizabeth," he grits his teeth.

  "When did it happen?" The pain cuts through me like a sharp knife. "When you enlisted and didn't look back, or when you slept with the first girl and discovered that you didn't miss me?"

  "Watch it," his breathing quickens, his enormous chest rising and falling, pressing against to his white button shirt with every breath.

  "Answer me!" I burst out. "When did it happen? With the second girl, the third, the tenth? Or when you ran away on our wedding day and decided to leave me alone, when did you stop loving me?"

  "You know the answer!" He gives me a look that makes me shrink. "Don't make me say it!"

  "Say it," I whisper stubbornly. "Don't hide anything from me."

  "Never." His words are a tornado that threatens to pass my path and take me with it.

  "You're lying." I shake my head in total refusal to accept what he said.

  "You asked for an answer and you got one." He stabilizes his steadfastness. "You got a lot of answers. Your father forced me to leave, but it was my choice to run away from his threat. I came back because I have nothing to lose anymore, and I've never, ever, stopped loving you."

  "You're playing games." I don't know how I still manage to stand, how I manage to breathe. How could it be that he still loves me?

  "That's why I don't apologize, Elizabeth." He gestures at me with his hand. "That's why I keep my distance. Because I know that if I get closer, you will reject me. It's easier to stay cold and alienated than to face the fact that you might never love me again."

  "You don't know what you're saying."

  "Believe me, I've had enough years to think about it, I'm pretty sure of what I'm saying."

  "I don't love you anymore." I stick a poisoned arrow in his heart. "And I can't forgive you."

  I'm not sure it's true. I'm not sure of anything, but it's better if that's what he thinks. Stop him from getting ideas in his head.

  "I didn't think you did." He locks his jaw again, his cheekbones sticking out even more now, "but I still love you, and I'm torn between my heart, that’s begging me to woo you twenty four seven, and my head, telling me to let you live your life."

  "Don't woo me," I falter in alarm.

  "Just so we're clear," his voice rattles, "Vivian is not the only one I came back for."

  "We're clear." I nod in understanding.

  "And tell your mom I'm not a boy."

  "She kicked my dad out of the house," my voice breaks. "My family is destroyed."

  "The only thing I'm sorry for is that my father didn't die five years ago. I was twenty one and made bad decisions, but that's no reason for Vivian not to have a dad."

  "Your daughter is expecting you at five." I decide to end the conversation.

  "I'll come over."

  "You can go now." I motion to the door, my headache growing.

  "Good bye, Elizabeth." He gives me one final look, then turns his back and walks out of the house that was ours, before foreign forces intervened and changed the rules of the game. I crash on the sofa, my heart pounding wildly.

  Never.

  He never stopped loving me, and my father is a villain. Colin made the wrong decision, which seemed logical to him at that cursed moment when he lay on the floor bleeding, and from that moment on I had to live with the consequences.

  The air is drawn from my lungs, closing on my windpipe.

  I don't love you anymore, and I can't forgive you.

  And now all I can do is pray to God that he won't make another wrong choice, that he won't harm our daughter who is only starting to know him.

  Chapter 16

  Vivian and I have spent the time in tense anticipation awaiting the knock on the door, which comes at exactly a quarter to five. She leaps out from the sofa and runs to open it, despite my loud protests.

  "Ask who it is!" I raise my voice to her from where I am in the kitchen.

  "Who is it?" she shouts at once.

  "It's Colin." His bass voice answers from the other side and she opens the door without hesitation.

  "Hey, Colin." She stands there smiling broadly at him.

  "Hello, Vivian, can I come in?" He sounded confused for a moment. Neither one of us knows what to do next.

  "Yeah." She moves and gives him room. He walks slowly and glances at me. I take a deep breath and try to keep my cool for the girl.

  "Good afternoon, Elizabeth," he greets me formally.

  "You too," I manage to answer with difficulty.

  "Daryl called me a liar again." Vivian informs him and pulls him by his hand toward the living room.

  "I'm sorry to hear that." He sits on the sofa, his body tense.

  "I don't care." She climbs up beside him and sits on her knees. "He's not always nice."

  "That's what I heard. What are you going to do about it?"

  "She's isn’t even five," I grumble aloud as I wash the rest of the dishes in the sink. "What do you expect her to do?"

  "You can choose other friends, Vivian, those who don't call you names." He is blatantly ignoring my question.

  "But everyone loves Daryl." She wrinkles her sweet face.

  "You don't have to do what everyone else does. You're a big girl and can choose your own friends," he answers in a confident voice.

  Yes, Viv. Don't be fooled by guys who everyone loves. That's a good lesson for life.

  "Where have you been?" She tackles him with a hard question. I expect more of the same will come later.

  "I was in the army," he tries to explain, "in the desert."

  "They don't have phones in the desert?" She's not a sucker. Thank God, she's smart.

  "Not alwa
ys," he answers, shifting uneasily.

  "And letters?"

  "Sometimes." The liar writhes.

  "When Louisa's father left, he called every week from New York." She frowns.

  "New York is a big city, there are phones everywhere."

  "Were you there?" She opens her eyes in amazement.

  "Yes, I was in many places."

  "Where else?" She gets excited and forgets to make his life hard.

  "At the beach," he answers with relief, now that the investigation has changed direction. "Have you ever been to the sea?"

  "No." She shakes her head. "Mom said it’s dangerous there."

  "It's a four hour ride," I defend myself.

  "I know." He gives me a look that makes it clear he remembers how long the trip takes. We both remember our vacation.

  "What do you want to do with Colin?" I ask Viv so as not to talk about the time we spent on the beach, lighting a bonfire and staying up all night.

  "I want to bake cookies." She stares at him pleadingly.

  "I'm afraid your mom is the one who knows how to bake," Colin hastens to apologize.

  "Can we bake together? Please, Mama?" she chirps.

  "I have to finish cleaning and then shower," I evade.

  "You took a shower in the morning before I got up." She gives me away. "Your hair was wet."

  "I need to shower again."

  "But Colin doesn't know how to bake," she protests loudly.

  "Then do something else. You can watch TV, he can put a movie on for you." I answer as though they are both five years old and not as if one of them is an adult.

  "I'd love to watch a movie with you," Colin picks up the sign without waiting for Viv's answer.

  "You'll die for Elsa!" She claps her hands in excitement, "Die."

  "I hope to stay alive, if you don't mind, Viv." He laughs loudly at her enthusiastic behavior and turns on the DVD.

  "Wait till you see Anna!"

  "I see that you haven't yet installed the new television." He stares at the huge box in the corner of the living room.

  "I didn't get to it," I grumble. "I had things to do."

  "I can handle it when we're done with the movie," he hastens to suggest.