Private

by Xavier Neal

  Penny doesn't rush to respond.

  Her long drawn out silence gnaws at an accusation I can't stop myself asking, “What'd you break?”

  There's no response.

  I quickly repeat, “What'd you break?”

  She nibbles on her bottom lip. “I'd...I'd rather not say. It wasn't that important.”

  “Then why were you afraid Clark would fire you?”

  “Because, I'm still relatively new-”

  “But Clark's not that kinda guy,” J.T. immediately replies. “I tried to tell you that last night but then you kissed me and-”

  “You didn't break anything, did you, Penny?” Her eyes swing to me and I slowly stand. “You had J.T. get that feed deleted so I wouldn't find you slipping into Brynley's room.” She tenses and I continue, “You sent that email.”

  The color drains from her face as she backs away slowly. “I can explain-”

  “Tell me! Did you send it!?”

  “Yes.”

  All of a sudden an unbearable amount of weight crushes me.

  “But you have to let me explain why!”

  “Why!” J.T. shouts for me. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I did it to protect you!” She pleads. Bewilderment appears on our faces in unison seconds before Penny states, “Brynley was using you! All she wanted was what you could do for her! All she cared about were the gifts and fancy food and you saving her from becoming some poor defenseless hooker! You needed her out of her life! She didn't understand how to protect you. She didn't know how to keep your world whole and hidden....I knew the only way to get rid of her was by showing you what she was going to eventually do. How she was going to eventually break you! You needed to see I would always be here for you. That I would be here to pick up the pieces.”

  My bereft breath makes the throbbing in my mind intensify.

  “You used me,” J.T. stutters out, back hitting the wall as another fact viciously spirals towards me.

  “And what was the point in poisoning Lauren?”

  “What?” My best friend croaks. “What are you talking about?”

  Instead of answering him, I take a step towards her and demand, “Answer me. What was the point in Lauren? What were you going to gain from having her out of the way? What was the point in making her suffer?”

  “My father should've been head of the household!” She shouts harshly. “He has worked for this family for years and you brought her in off the street because of some misplaced guilt!”

  More disbelief digs in. “You're Clark's daughter?”

  “Yes! And with Lauren out of commission, he was given her responsibilities. A chance to prove to you he deserved that job more than her. If you would've just let her go to the damn hospital, Brynley would've never been here, and I could've shown him how much better he would've been off trying to work out things with my mother instead of her!”

  The surreal amount of information shifts my body backward.

  “You're insane,” J.T. whispers out.

  She gives him a quick glare before trying to grovel at me. “I'm....I'm sorry you found out like this, but you have to believe me, Wes. I just wanted to make things right for my family and...and...give me a chance to really become a part of yours.”

  My jaw trembles profusely as my world begins to spin off its axis once more. Everyone I love tarnished. Every wall I built destroyed. Everything I thought I controlled in caustic chaos. Brynley was right. I truly am toxic. The monster I dreaded looking at in the mirror is gone and in its place a walking nightmare I'm not sure I'll ever wake up from.

  My face flops around on Vanessa's guest bedroom mattress seconds before she appears in the doorway.

  She leans her sweat covered body against the frame. “Comfortable?”

  Not quite as amazing as the zillionaire bed I gave up, but comparable. I don't bother lifting my head. “Yeah. Thanks again for letting me crash here until I can find a place.”

  Vanessa gives me a short shrug. “No big deal. Between work and spending time over at James' place I'm rarely even here. He wants me to sell the damn thing.”

  Guess all men are controlling. Guess all men want the women they say they love at their beck and call like show ponies. Fuck men. Fuck them and they're beautiful smiles, delicious cocks, and bullshit accusations.

  “I keep it out of spite.” Her answer makes me smile for the first time in days. “I'm gonna shower, swing by James' place for a quickie, and then head into work. You sure you want me to see if Ricky has any openings for the week? No offense but you don't seem like you're really in the mood to be around people let alone a bunch of grabass dickheads.”

  I groan my reply, “Not really a choice. I need the cash to rent my own place.”

  Vanessa nods and offers, “Well you can definitely crash here until you figure that out.”

  “Thanks. I....appreciate it.” I do. I really do. I just hate fucking handouts, which is exactly what this is. Which is exactly what shacking up with Wes was. One giant handout most likely because I couldn't keep my legs closed. Ugh. Sex always gets me into trouble. I'd take a vow of celibacy but I think my virginity growing back would be too itchy.

  She turns to walk off yet spins back around. “Quick question.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Was that really you kissing Weston Wilcox, the billionaire? You know, the sole heir to Wilcox Enterprises?”

  My chest constricts causing me to breathlessly answer, “Yeah.”

  “Are you two a couple?”

  “Why? Gonna go after him if we're not?” The bitchy response flies from my mouth before I have a chance to stop it.

  She snickers to herself, “I'll take that as a yes.”

  It's actually a no, but I don't have the energy to have that conversation nor answer all those questions.

  “You looked cute together,” Vanessa adds. “Whatever issues you two are working through just don't let it end with you breaking his shit okay? Trust me. Nothing is more embarrassing than having to be dragged off to a cop car after you took a slugger to his vase collection.”

  I lift my head in shock.

  “And while we're discussing it-”

  “We weren't discussing it,” I mumble.

  “No real man should have a fucking vase collection. It's like grow a set of balls and collect something that matters like autographed baseballs or some shit.”

  There's a small moment of silence between us before I ask, “Was this before James or is this the reason it's really best you keep your own place?”

  She lets her face curl into a devilish smirk. Without another word she winks and struts off towards the opposite side of the one-story house where her bedroom is.

  Not really sure if her relationship is actually worse than mine was or just handled worse, I reach for my phone that's vibrating with new voice mails. Swiping it open, I ignore the numerous texts waiting for me and hit the icon.

  The first new message plays, “Hey, Bryn. It's me. J.T. I know things with Wes went south but-”

  I delete it without hesitation. I don't need him or his impossible to love best friend. I don't need bullshit in my life. Everything with them, that situation, that fucking mega mansion was stressful. If I had it my way, I'd convince my mother to quit and insist she start cleaning Oprah's house.

  “Hey Bryn, it's Matt. Just wanted to let you know your mother's condition has improved drastically. She should be completely back on her feet by the end of next week. I'm just sticking around to be sure..” The information blankets me with momentary relief. “About Wes-”

  Hitting the delete button, I hear his voice on the next message, “Bryn-”

  After clearing it out of the way, the final message is played. “Hello Miss Winters, this is Colleen Post with The Bower and Powell Aquatic Institute. I'm just giving you a courtesy call in regards to your internship starting tomorrow. While I look forward to you joining us, I just wanted to remind you to please bring a source of identification and wear clothing
that can be comfortably exposed to water. Lunch will be provided for you for your first week as a special welcome to the program. Once again, we look forward to you joining our team!”

  Bile boils up the back of my throat as I end the message and toss the phone to the side.

  How the hell is it possible to get and lose a dream job opportunity and your dream man all in the same fucking breath? I can't take that job now....Not even if I deserve it. I don't want anything more to do with Wes. He wanted me out of his life and it's time he got the hell out of mine.

  The sound of someone entering the room doesn't alter my attention. Not sure anything can anymore. Having my entire life ripped out from underneath me has finally dropped me to the pits of hell I deserve to be in. I caused this. It was my girlfriend that caused me to force my parents onto that plane. It's my fault Lauren lost her husband. It's my fault Bryn lost her father and almost her mother. It's my fault my best friend is buried sixteen feet under a media shit storm. It's my fault the only person who could ever love a freak like me will never forgive the pain she's endured because of me.

  “When Brynley was little,” Lauren's voice begins, having a seat on one of the couches facing me, “she begged Santa for a fish every year. Finally, when she was seven, we got her one. She loved the hell out of that thing. Named him Chris the fish, after Christmas, and devoted everything she could to him. The problem was Chris was not an easy fish to love. He was a beta fish. They're known for being a little hostile at times despite their beautiful colors. There were days where I swore he hated her or at the very least having her face smushed against his bowl. But I never once doubted her love for him through all that. And that's when I learned it didn't matter how hard someone pushed Bryn, she was going to do what she wanted. What she....felt was best. That's when I knew when she finally fell in love, it wouldn't matter how hard he made it or how much he tried to push her away, she wouldn't stop loving him until she decided it was time to.”

  The description of her shreds apart the minor sheath of stability I had found in watching her daughter's favorite creatures. My jaw trembles as I shut my eyes. “She hates me, Lauren.”

  “She hates Seinfeld reruns and bubble gum flavored ice cream. Not you.”

  I shake my head in disagreement.

  “You...Well, she loves you, like she loved that fish. She's just...needs a little time to figure out how to handle the way you hurt her. Kinda like when Chris bit her for the first time. Even though it didn't hurt, she still felt betrayed.”

  Slowly, I open my eyes, hope trying not cloud them. “What'd she do?”

  “Hm,” Lauren hums leaning against the arm rest. “There was a lot of yelling and eventually she put him in front of a mirror, which drove him crazy for a while.”

  “The fish story?” Clark questions on his way over to sit beside Lauren.

  “Yeah.”

  “You know it?” My curiosity seeps out again.

  “Of course I know it,” he replies with a smile. “I know many stories about Brynley. Just like Lauren knows many stories about Penny.”

  Her name alone causes me to grit my teeth.

  “Penny has always been somewhat of a difficult child-”

  “As has Brynley,” Lauren adds.

  “But she's never done anything like this before, Wes.”

  “Ruined someone's life?” I snap.

  A hurt expression appears on his face and guilt guides its way into my gut. I know he's not responsible for this. He didn't tell her to do the things she did. But even through the rational thoughts, part of me blames him. I guess it's just a poor attempt to blame myself less.

  “It's my fault,” Clark confesses, leaning forward onto his knees. “I begged Lauren to convince you to hire Penny. She....She seemed so misguided and a little lost that I thought being taken out of the everyday world, being around us would help reset her.”

  “I thought maybe you two could develop a friendship out of the misguided burden you both carried,” Lauren adds.

  “Penny blames herself for the reason me and Catherine didn't work out. When I first began working for your parents it wasn't so crucial to be here around the clock. Before you were born they enjoyed traveling quite a bit. However, a few years after you were born Catherine and I were expecting. I asked for the extra time to help provide for us. Your parents were more than willing to let me have it. Catherine could never seem to hold down a job and I was the main source of income. Unfortunately, I began to take part in raising you more than I did Penny. Catherine and I fought whenever I took the time to return home. At some point, I realized as long as I continued to write the check to help provide for her and Penny, the less we would argue. So I did. I continued to financially provide for them and in exchange Catherine allowed me to occasionally take Penny out for ice cream or dinner. I waited until Penny was old enough to move out for college before asking for a divorce. We both knew it was coming but I guess Penny had built up the two of us engaging in a long-distance romance when in actuality, our marriage had been dead for most of her life. I thought having her around would allow some time for us to mend some broken things. It was my mistake.”

  Lauren's hand reaches over and gently touches his back. “Our mistake.”

  Dumbfounded by the information as much as their unity even in times of adversity, I struggle to ask, “How long has this been going on? The two of you?”

  “A few years,” Clark answers nonchalantly.

  “Years? How the hell didn't I know?”

  “You're not the only one good at hiding things,” Lauren teases.

  “Why did you? Why didn't you...Let everyone know? Did you think I'd fire you for dating each other?”

  “It wasn't anyone's business but ours,” Clark's declaration ignites a pang in my chest. “During the day and during our shifts, what we did was what mattered. Caring for you, for this home, for the other staff members, always did and always will take precedent. What we do for each other when no one else needs us is between the two of us. And if it's alright by you, sir, we'd like to keep it that way.”

  I offer them both a sympathetic smile. “Of course. Just because my life is no longer private doesn't mean yours shouldn't be.”

  “This is probably the last thing you want to hear right now, but it is definitely the most important,” Lauren starts, grabbing my eyes once more. “Do not mistake hiding from your life as choosing to keep it private, Weston. While I understand your apprehension towards being seen, it's time you realize, your appearance is only a small fraction of the equation. You're a kind, generous, bright individual the world hasn't been fortunate enough to relish in for the past ten years. Give them the chance to see you for the living legacy you so desperately crave to be and give yourself a chance to enjoy life again rather than spending your days locked away, penalizing yourself for something that no matter how many times you twist it, was never and will never actually be your fault.”

  Her words shake more than just my body. Could she possibly be right? Could it be time to let the endless self-mutilation truly rest? Is it time to stare into my own mismatched eyes and embrace more than the flaws I see staring back? Can I really step out in the light and transition into the person I was once destined to become? Why does all of that seem impossible without the woman I love by my side? I don't know if I'm capable of facing the potential fears and failures alone. At the very least, I damn sure don't want to.

  I adjust my tie during my wait for J.T. beside the front door. I'm early. It's the pending dread of judgment as much as the sleepless nights causing the uneasiness about today. The coldness from the loss of Brynley has surpassed the initial dwelling underneath my skin and dug itself into the marrow of my bones. I keep myself covered in layers not because spring has back peddled into winter but because it reminds me of what it's like to have warmth wrapped around me. The weight of someone else's body pressed against mine. It's pathetic. But the truth is until she walks back through those doors, I truly am a shell of the man I used to be.
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  “You sure you wanna do this?” J.T. questions, entering the room.

  “Yes.” My answer is met with a curt nod. “Shall we?”

  He initially nods yet stops me at the same time I touch the door knob. “Wes, wait.”

  I turn around and lift my eyebrows.

  “Before we walk out that door, I just wanna say, I'm sorry. For everything.”

  The two of us haven't seen each other since Penny's unexpected confession. He locked himself away in his home at the far end of the property. Sent texts for information he needed. Called only if absolutely necessary. Now having seen him for the first time in almost two weeks, it is apparent he's clinging onto more guilt than he should be.