by T L Osborn
I turn on my heels, grab my flowers, and carry them up to my room. I flick Simon a text.
Me: I love the flowers. Thank you.
Simon: I’m glad you love them. I wanted you to have something to make you think of me, since I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you.
Me: I miss you too. I can’t wait to see you.
Simon: You’ll have to wait I’m afraid. I’m not coming back until Wednesday.
Me: Putting on my best pouty face right now.
Simon: Honey, wish I was coming back earlier too. I’ll see you Wednesday. Miss you. xx
Me: Me too. xx
As I’m sending my final text, Steph enters my room carrying a pizza box, a bottle of wine, and our two glasses. She used to work as a waitress and is damn good at juggling multiple items.
“Well, I gave him a good telling off. Told him he needs to stop being a bully and be a man and realise his sister isn’t sixteen anymore—basically the same speech you gave Toby. It didn’t quite go the same way.” She laughs, flopping down on my bed. “What were you doing?”
“Texting Simon to say thank you,” I reply.
“Girl, you are one lucky bitch. I’ve never had a guy send me flowers,” she confesses.
“Umm, yeah you have. My brother,” I remind her.
“Pfft! Toby doesn’t count.” She laughs, “He was pretending to be Jacob. It wasn’t funny.”
“It was hilarious, we’ve all known about your crush on Jacob for years. You should just tell him how you feel and fuck him. Then you might actually become my sister for real,” I say taking a sip of my wine.
“I’m just glad to see you’re happy,” she mumbles, changing the subject. “Now, let’s eat all this pizza before they notice it’s gone.”
When I head downstairs to put the pizza box and wine bottle in the fridge, Toby and Jake are on the couch. Both look at me but neither say anything.
Chapter Thirteen
Aria
I need to get out of this house. My brothers aren’t speaking to me, and haven’t all week, I can’t find any decent books to read. Maybe I’ll go for a walk to clear my head. I pick up my bag and exit the house, making my way on foot to the middle of Upper Hutt. I walk into the library café, and as I seat myself, waiting for my order of hot chocolate and a muffin, two familiar people walk into the library.
I smile as Charlotte waves at me and comes racing over to see me. “Hi, Ari.”
“Hello, Charlotte. How are you?” I ask her.
“I’m great. Daddy said we could pick another princess book,” she tells me as she beams up at him.
I turn my gaze in his direction too. “Hi,” I say.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“Waiting for a hot chocolate,” I reply.
“Daddy, can we sit down and have hot chocolate too?” Charlotte asks.
“Sure, but only if it’s okay with Aria that we sit with her.” Simon looks at me with hope that I’m going to say yes.
“Of course. Sit down, both of you,” I tell them, and Charlotte leaps into the seat next to me faster than I can take my next breath.
“I’ll go order for us.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“Get them to put it on the same number,” I call as he walks away.
Charlotte leans on the table and sits her head in her hands, just staring at me. “Why haven’t you come back to read books?” she asks.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie, but I’ve been busy, and your daddy says you have too.”
“I wish you’d come back.”
“Did you get any books out today?”
“A mermaid one and a princess one. Did you get any books?”
“Not today. I was looking at one called Hawaii. I’d like to visit there someday,” I say.
Simon walks over to our table. “Did I hear something about Hawaii?” he asks, pulling out a chair to sit.
“I was just telling Charlotte I’d like to visit there,” I reply as my drink is brought over to me. Two marshmallows sit to the side of my mug, and I pick them up. “Is Charlotte allowed these?” I ask Simon.
He smiles. “Yeah, she can eat those, but you don’t have to give them to her.”
“I don’t mind. I’m not a big marshmallow fan,” I respond, handing them to Charlotte.
“Thank you, Ari.”
“I’m surprised she remembered me.”
He bursts into laughter. “She has the memory of an elephant, I swear, but if I ask what she did at kindy the same day, I get ‘I don’t know’.” Their drinks are brought over to them, and Charlotte’s eyes grow wide as saucers when she sees her hot chocolate also comes with two marshmallows and a chocolate fish.
“So why are you here? You have that Kindle I bought you to use.”
I take a sip of my drink. “I needed to get out of the house. Things have been rather tense.”
“I hope it wasn’t the flowers,” he says, picking up his drink to take a sip.
“Actually, it was the flowers, the Kindle, and just you in general. They think you want one thing and are using the gifts to get it. Oh, and I’m an idiot for accepting them, because it means I’ve accepted what you want,” I explain.
“I’m sorry. I’d meant to make you smile and send you something sweet.”
“They did make me smile, and it’s my brothers who need to be sorry, not you.”
He chuckles. “True. Though James and I wouldn’t be any different with our sister. We can be pretty stubborn and caveman-like when we need to be. Your brothers sound like they’re trying to be protective but are going the wrong way about it.”
He’s got a point.
“How’s your hot drink, Charlotte?” he asks, as I pick my own up, taking a sip.
“It’s yummy,” she answers, as she takes a massive gulp to finish the drink. “Is Ari coming back to our place?”
“If she wants to. Ari, might have plans today.”
“Actually, I have no plans. So yeah, I’ll come,” I insert, and he smiles. “I told you I didn’t want her excluded.”
“That’s not why I’m smiling.”
“Then why are you?”
“Because I might get the opportunity to have some time alone with you later.”
My mouth drops open. “Simon.”
“What? I can’t help it. I’m a guy.” He laughs.
We stand, making our way to the door. Simon slides a hand into mine, linking our fingers together and giving them a squeeze. As we walk and talk, Charlotte bounces along in front of us. He squeezes my hand a little tighter.
Simon
“So what country music do you like?” I ask as I drive towards my place.
“Chris Young, Luke Bryan, Lady Antebellum, Carrie Underwood, and Rascal Flatts. Just to name a few,” she replies.
“I’ve never heard of any of them. Maybe I should have a listen,” I say.
“You really should. Like I said, way better than JT.”
I chuckle as I pull into my driveway and swipe my card through the lock. As I get closer to my house, I see my sister and brother’s cars parked outside the garage. I park next to them and turn off the car.
“Do you have visitors? Should I go?” Aria asks.
“Just my brother and sister. You’ll be fine. I’m only sorry you haven’t met my sister before now, but she’s been away in the USA,” I explain as we get out. I help Charlotte out of her seat as Aria gets out, looking incredibly nervous. “Simon, I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“Honey, I want you to get to know Charlotte. You might as well meet my sister too. They won’t be here long,” I assure her as I grab her hand and walk inside. “Don’t worry. She doesn’t bite.” I drag her inside, as Charlotte has already run inside before us.
As we enter the house, I see it’s not just my siblings here, but my mother as well. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Oh well, no turning back now.
“Hey,” I call, as they all turn to look at me. James throws me a grin wit
h a raise of his eyebrows. Melissa looks at me and gives me a wide smile. My mother looks Aria up and down and turns her head away in disgust. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Aria. Aria, this is my sister Melissa, and my mother Suzanne.”
My sister gets out of her seat, as does James, and they walk over. Mel hugs Aria as James comes up to me. “I knew you two would get together,” he says.
“Simon told me about you, but he didn’t tell me much. Simon will pour you a wine, but I want to get to know you,” Mel urges, dragging Aria over to the couch.
“I’ll give you a hand,” James volunteers, and we walk into the kitchen. I pull out two bottles of wine, and James gets the glasses. “You’re brave bringing Aria around Mum,” he comments.
“I didn’t know she was here, even as we pulled up.”
“Yeah, she asked me to bring her.”
I turn around to see Charlotte and Melissa attached to Aria, bombarding her with questions. My mother sits staring at Aria like she’s a pest that needs to be eradicated.
“Who’s staying for dinner?” I ask as I take Aria’s drink over to her. “You don’t get a choice, honey,” I aim at Aria as she opens her mouth in protest.
“Simon, if the young lady wants to go home, let her. She obviously doesn’t want to be here,” Mum says. More likely you don’t want her here.
“No, Mother, Aria will stay, because I’d like her to and she’s my guest this evening,” I retort as I head back to the kitchen. I make something quick and easy for dinner, spaghetti Bolognese. Aria steps into the kitchen while I’m making it, sliding her hand onto my back. I turn to her, asking, “Are you okay? I know I threw you in the deep end, but I swear I didn’t know my mum or siblings were here.”
“I’m fine. I was just coming to ask if you needed a hand.”
I lean down to her ear. “Later, honey, you can give me a hand.”
“Only if you give me one,” she teases.
I grin at her. “My pleasure.” She goes back to sit down, and I finish up dinner, dishing up a big meal for everyone to help themselves from the big bowl in the middle of the table. “Dinner is served.” Charlotte comes to grab her seat at the table, dragging Aria with her to sit next to her. Aria pulls out a chair.
“Aria, do you mind not sitting there? Just, it’s Clarissa’s seat, and I can’t bear to have another woman sit in it. Take a seat at the end of the table,” my mother suggests, as she takes the seat on the other side of Charlotte, pulling me to the seat that Aria had originally chosen.
My mother is full of crap; Clarissa never had a special seat, and she hardly ever ate dinner with us—if ever at all. Nothing I cooked was good enough for her.
We begin to eat, and Aria tries not to make a mess of herself. “This is delicious. Thank you, Simon,” she comments.
“Clarissa’s was better,” my mother interjects. “She could cook fabulous pasta dishes without any assistance at all.”
I grit my teeth as I pick up my wine glass to take a sip. Another lie—she never cooked either. It was Linda, always Linda. She just passed it off as her own.
Aria finishes up and goes back for seconds, eating the entire plate, and I know she’s trying to prove a point to my mother. When she’s done, Aria takes her plate out to the kitchen and rinses it off. Mel and James place their plates, and so does my mother.
“Aria, you aren’t doing it right. Clarissa used to rinse all the dishes with dish washing liquid and then put them in the dishwasher.”
“That’s it. Mum, shut up! Just shut up about Clarissa. For f-frog’s sake. She’s not here. She’s dead and gone. So if Aria wants to rinse her plate and only her plate, then let her. Aria is my guest for the evening, and I will not have you spoil it because you’ve got some weird obsession with my dead wife.”
My mother opens her mouth, but I cut her off.
“Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it. You can go now. Thanks for dropping by, but please leave,” I say, standing and carrying my drink into the kitchen. I slide my arms around Aria and lean down.
“Why didn’t you tell me about your wife?
“I’ll get rid of this lot and put Charlotte to bed, and then we’ll talk. I promise,” I tell her, placing a kiss on her forehead. I pour myself a fresh glass of wine and top up Aria’s. My siblings leave, with James dragging my mother out the door, as they sense I want to talk to Aria alone.
“Well see you next week, Simon,” Melissa says as she shuts the front door.
“I’ll just take Charlotte upstairs to bed, and then we’ll talk, okay?” I prompt.
“Sure.” Aria shrugs.
I carry Charlotte upstairs, get her dressed in her pyjamas, and tuck her into bed with a story. “Daddy, will Ari be my new mummy?”
“Princess, Ari and Daddy are just friends for now. Is that okay with you?” I ask her.
“Yeah, is she my fwiend too?” she asks.
“Yes, she is. Goodnight, princess. I’ll see you in the morning,” I reply as I exit her room.
Along the way down the stairs, I think of what questions Aria is going to ask. There’ll probably be a lot. I’m sure she’ll want to know everything. But if she wants my past, she’s going to answer some of my questions too.
Chapter Fourteen
Aria
I must be crazy for still sitting here, waiting for him to return. His sister seems lovely, but his mother was something else entirely. She seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with Simon’s wife. Then, Simon’s outburst about her, yelling at his mother to shut up about his dead wife… I’ve never seen him angry, and I don’t want to again.
He returns, coming over to sit by me. “You’ll have questions, and I’ll let you ask them, but if I’m going to tell you my past, I want to hear more about yours.”
I gulp. “I think that’s fair.”
He holds up his hands. “You start.”
I scoot myself so I’m sat facing him on the couch. “How did you meet her?”
He takes a deep breath. “I met Clarissa one night, not long after I’d taken a management position within my uncle’s other firm. I was flying high, drinking, and living the good life. Clarissa and I met at dinner with mutual friends. I thought she was attractive. What I didn’t see was what she was really like beneath the façade. I didn’t take her home the first night, but I did get her number.”
“How long did you date before getting engaged?” I ask.
“Well, that’s the funny thing. We didn’t do what I’d call traditional dating, she just kind of inserted herself into my life by that time I thought she was the one. I was going to propose, but not when it happened. I started building myself up and had just been promoted to the board of Stanley Industries. My uncle was gearing me up to take over as CEO, but he wanted me on the board first. I came home, wanting to celebrate, only to find Clarissa sitting with my mother. They looked at me and informed me Clarissa was pregnant. I’d been promoted and was going to be a father. I proposed right way, wanting to make my family official. Clarissa said yes, and my mother threw a massive party. Of course, without me realising how much of our savings were blown on it, but I didn’t care. I wanted Clarissa happy.”
“So how did you end up here?”
“Well, during Clarissa’s pregnancy, I was working to buy the baby everything he or she would need. She would claim I cared more about the baby than her. She’d demand sex, like it could be the middle of the night and I had to work the next day, but she’d needed it desperately. I thought I was doing the right thing by telling her no, telling her I’d harm the baby, but she demanded it, rolling me over and bending down to suck my dick, which is not something she’d normally do. In fact, the only time in our relationship I got a blowy was when she was pregnant.
I learned later it was only to turn me on so she could fuck me, to give into her demands for something. After Charlotte was born, Clarissa started doing little things, like hitting me, or blackmailing me worse than before. I’d give in, because I thought I loved her. Her blo
ws came hard and fast, and then she’d tell me things like my brother has a bigger dick than me and that she loved riding him or sucking him off, or he’s better in the sack than me.”
“Was it true?”
He shrugs. “I no longer care if it was. Though, I don’t believe James would ever go for another man’s wife. He’s a player, yes, but he doesn’t sleep with married women. Anyway, I got home one day early as a surprise, and I could hear Charlotte screaming. Ear-splitting screams. I raced up to my daughter’s room to find her alone, and when I picked her up, she was sitting in a filthy nappy and suckling on my shoulder as if she was hungry. I went downstairs to find Clarissa to find her outside drinking with her high-society friends.” He gulps, a tear escaping down his cheek.
“Babe, no one should have that happen to their child,” I whisper. Charlotte deserved better treatment, especially by her mother.
“She didn’t seem to care about our daughter... It took me a week to clear up Charlotte’s nappy rash, even a rush trip to the GP, because I was worried it wasn’t healing. I made sure Charlotte was being fed. I took a month’s leave, telling my uncle that Clarissa wasn’t coping and needed me to be at home. I was ashamed to admit I wasn’t the father I should’ve been. I should’ve been there for my daughter.”
“Simon, you are a wonderful daddy. Do not blame yourself for her actions,” I say squeezing his hand.
“It’s hard not to. The entire month off work, I was with Charlotte. Clarissa was out and about, doing God only knows what or who. She’d come home complaining to me about how dirty the house was, how I was useless for not cleaning it, asking why I wasn’t going back to work to earn money she needed. She’d tell me Charlotte didn’t need constant coddling or cuddles, that she had to learn to cry it out. By the end of the month, I’d had enough and decided I needed to get Charlotte away from her. You can hurt me, but not my child.
“However, the night I decided to make her pack her stuff and leave, I asked Mel to come here and help look after Charlotte, just so I could talk to Clarissa. We went to bed and awoke in the morning, and she hadn’t returned. I went into the kitchen to make a coffee and Charlotte a bottle, when there was a knock on the door. Two policemen stood before me, informing me Clarissa had been in an accident and they needed me to identify her body, since I was her husband.”
