Mad Love 2

by Colet Abedi

  “You can imagine what happened next,” Clayton says with a hollow laugh.

  The silence is palpable in the room. I know he is reliving the nightmare experience. I wish I could erase the memory.

  “Did you ever tell anyone?” I ask him softly.

  “Never. Not a soul,” he says.

  Until me.

  “Until you.”

  “Of course I made sure my brothers would never have the same experience.”

  My gaze meets his. I wonder what he said to his father. Or threatened. I think about what he went through, the humiliation of it, the awful introduction to sex, and then I think about how special he made my first time. It makes me love him even more. My throat feels thick when I try to speak. I know those damn tears of mine are going to fall.

  “I’m so—”

  He puts his fingers to my lips.

  “Shhh,” he tells me. “You are not allowed to feel sorry for me.”

  “I don’t,” I whisper. “How could I?”

  And I really don’t. I have empathy for the child he was, not the man that he has become. He took what happened and didn’t let that define him. And rose above it. With demons, granted. But still.

  “I see the look of sadness on your face,” he admonishes. His voice is soft though, and full of emotion.

  “I’m sad that you were robbed,” I tell him as I brush his cheek with my hand. “It should have been different for you.”

  He takes my hand and places a kiss on my palm.

  “I’m okay now,” he says. “Especially with you.”

  I feel a warmth move through my body.

  “I—” Clayton begins to say in an unsteady voice and my breath lodges in my throat.

  I lean up over him, letting my hair cascade around my shoulders and onto his chest. His eyes roam possessively over my face.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers softly to me, forgetting whatever it was he was going to say, and he pulls me to him for a kiss that leaves me breathless.

  13

  “Sophie!” Erik calls out as he bursts open the bedroom door.

  I was dead to the world. But I sit up in bed immediately as I wrap the sheet around my naked body. The curtains are drawn so I have no idea what time it is. Unfortunately I’m also alone.

  I wonder when Clayton got up and left me.

  “What time is it?” I ask groggily.

  “Past noon,” Erik says as he rushes over to the bed.

  “Noon?!” I can’t believe I slept so late. I take in Orie’s pale face as he closes the door behind him.

  “What’s going on?” I demand as I notice Erik’s sad demeanor.

  “Something terrible has happened,” Erik says.

  My heart lodges in my throat. A thousand thoughts race through my mind.

  “Tell me.”

  “It’s about Clayton’ brother,” Erik says, and sits next to me while Orie opens the curtains to allow the sunlight in.

  “Michael?”

  “No,” Erik shakes his head. “The youngest. William.”

  He takes a moment.

  “Erik—” I plead, “I’m freaking out.”

  “He died last night in a car accident,” Erik whispers sadly.

  “What?!” I’m stunned into silence.

  “It’s beyond tragic. The house is in chaos,” Orie says as he comes and sits down on the bed too. “Everyone is hysterical. Clayton’s mother, is inconsolable. She’s been walking from room to room screaming. Literally screaming in pain, Sophie. I’ve never heard anything like it. And Clayton and Michael have disappeared. We don’t even know if they’re together.”

  “And their father?” I whisper in horror.

  “He’s in the study sobbing.”

  I don’t know what to say. Or to think.

  So much sorrow for the family. For Clayton. For me, that I will never get to meet the younger brother who was so protected and loved.

  My conversation with Clayton last night seems like a distant memory.

  “I have to go to him,” I whisper to Erik as tears well up in my eyes. I can’t imagine what he’s feeling right now.

  “He was so young,” Erik says as I get out of bed and pull the sheet with me.

  “Twenty-five,” I mumble. He was too young. How does something like this even happen?

  I rush into the dressing room and find a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt and my brown Uggs. Orie and Erik follow me into the bathroom where I brush my teeth and wash my face. Orie helps me pull my hair back.

  “Sophie,” he warns me, “everyone is literally a disaster. William was very loved. I can’t imagine Abby and Dimitri continuing with the wedding under these circumstances.”

  No, I definitely can’t either. Especially given Abby’s aversion to it in the first place.

  “How is Abby?” I ask.

  “She’s in her room,” Orie says. “She asked to be left alone.”

  “But Georgie is with her,” Erik adds pointedly.

  Georgie. Now, thinking about the conversation I had with him last night seems incredibly ridiculous.

  Orie grabs my hand and squeezes it.

  “Have you ever lost someone?”

  “No,” I tell him. “I mean. I lost my grandparents but I was so young I don’t remember.”

  “This is a big deal,” Orie says emotionally. “I lost my dad when I was in high school and it changed my life, made me into a different person. This was Clayton’s baby brother. A death like this shifts everything.”

  Erik rubs my shoulder. “Do you understand what Orie is trying to tell you?”

  “Of course I do. I’m not an idiot. I don’t care about anything but being there for him. I need to find him.”

  As soon as I step outside the bedroom I feel the somber mood echo through the house. I get the chills. It is quiet. Too quiet. There are white candles lit everywhere, which only add to the sad ambiance. We walk downstairs and see a picture of the three brothers on a table in the hall with candles flanking the frame.

  I look at William’s face and see the kindness, the pure innocence, that made him so different from Clayton and Michael. His hair was brown and he had the famous Sinclair blue eyes. He was boyishly handsome. Looking at his picture makes his death more devastating. Here was a man in the prime of his life, taken entirely too early.

  “Orie and I will look for Clayton,” Erik says. “We’ll find you.”

  I nod absently and continue to stare at William’s picture. They leave me there and I’m overcome with an intense wave of sadness. This poor family. What’s going through their minds right now? Imagine, having someone here one day and gone the next. And there’s no reversing it.

  “Do you see my beautiful baby boy?” Clayton’s mother sobs behind me.

  I turn quickly and am undone when I see her grief-stricken face. The tears come naturally and I step forward and pull her into my embrace she trembles.

  “He’s gone!” she cries. “My beautiful William is gone!”

  There is nothing appropriate for me to say to her. I’m sorry seems like such a ridiculous comment to make.

  “What can I do?” is all I can say through my tears as her body crumples into mine.

  “Let’s go sit down,” I say and I wrap my arm around her waist and guide her down one of the long corridors to the main living room where we first met Abigail.

  The house is so quiet.

  “Where is Harold?” she asks as I take her to one of the couches.

  “I don’t know,” I tell her. “I just heard what happened.”

  Her head falls back on the couch and I take in her appearance. I lean down in front of her and place my hand on her knees offering any type of comfort I can.

  “My poor baby boy,” she says. “He was supposed to come with us. But Harold needed him in the office. He should have been with us. We never should have left him alone.”

  Her voice is raw with pain.


  “He was hit by a drunk driver on his way to the airport,” she whispers. “A teenager hit his car head on. They’re both gone.”

  I remain silent.

  “Oh Sophie, what am I going to do without my little boy?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I’m so, so incredibly sorry.”

  “Have you seen Clayton or Michael?” she asks in a small voice.

  “I haven’t.”

  But I realize how much she needs them. She needs to be surrounded by her family and her children, and instead she’s all alone—a mother who just lost her child is alone with me, who is practically a stranger.

  “Do you want me find them?” I ask her.

  “Don’t leave me,” she pleads almost wildly. “I don’t want to be by myself.”

  “I won’t,” I promise her. “I won’t leave you. Erik and Orie are looking for them. Can I get you tea?”

  “Brandy.”

  “Of course.”

  I get up and walk to the entryway of the room and notice that a woman is standing quietly near the door, as if she’s waiting to see if Lady Rosalind needs something.

  “Lady Sinclair would like a glass of brandy,” I tell her. “And if you could light the fire and bring her a nice blanket that would be lovely.”

  “Of course,” she says and rushes off to do as I asked.

  I walk back in the room and another member of the staff enters behind me and lights the fire. In no time Ros has her brandy and her blanket and a roaring fire. I sit beside her as she cries and offer only my company. The sound of the fire mixed with her tears is something I don’t think I’ll ever forget.

  After a few minutes of quiet she begins to tell me about William.

  “He was such a special child,” she tells me sorrowfully. “He was so good. Such a happy boy and man. And so pure of heart. He was always trying to make peace between Clayton and his father. Always smiling. Cheerful. Michael and Clayton were so protective of him all their lives. He was so precious. And I was so proud of him. I mean, I am—”

  She buries her face in her hands.

  “I can’t believe this,” Ros moans. “I feel like I’m in a dream, or a nightmare. Why is this happening to us? Why, Sophie?”

  “I don’t know,” I say as I shake my head in despair. My heart aches for her pain. “I wish I had an answer for you.”

  “This is just a cruel joke. It has to be,” she says, and rocks back and forth in her chair in utter agony.

  Moments later Erik and Orie join us. I make eye contact with Erik and he shakes his head, which I know means he’s had no luck finding Clayton or Michael. As worried as I am about him, I know I can’t leave his mom alone.

  Erik and Orie turn to walk out when she says, “I have to arrange my son’s funeral,” and they both stand stock still.

  “You don’t need to do that at this moment,” I tell her.

  “It must be fit for a king,” she says as if she didn’t hear me. “I need my secretary. She can help me get started. Everything needs to be perfect, just like William. Lilies. He loved lilies. And tulips. Tulips are so beautiful, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, seeing that she was beside herself now.

  “I’ve already made calls,” Clayton says.

  We all look up and see Clayton standing in the doorway. His gaze is singularly focused on his mom. I take in his appearance and my heart lurches. His eyes are bloodshot and filled with agony. His hair is in disarray. He’s dressed in black pants and a sweater and his hands are buried in his pockets.

  My friends leave the room quickly.

  Ros Sinclair stands up on shaky legs.

  “Clayton—”

  There is a terrible look of anguish on his face as he walks to his mother and gathers her in his arms.

  “My William,” she cries. “My William.”

  His body trembles as he buries his head in his mother’s arms, and I know he’s crying. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at them. I realize what I’m watching is an incredibly private moment between a mother and her son, so I stand up and leave the room quietly. Clayton doesn’t acknowledge me, not even a look, and even though I know I should have no expectation given the circumstance, I get a tiny feeling of uneasiness.

  A death like this changes everything.

  Orie’s words echo in my head but I push them out of my mind, refusing to go there. All that matters is that I’m here for Clayton during this horrible time.

  That is all that really matters.

  When I leave Clayton and his mother, I go to find Erik and Orie so we can discuss what our plan should be. Whether we should stay or go. And how we can help out, if we can help in any way.

  I walk down the corridor that leads to the dining room and run right into Harold Sinclair, who looks just as devastated as the rest of his family. Even though I’m now aware of how mentally perverted he is and cannot forgive him for what he did to his son, I still feel empathy. William was his child. And from the sound of things, the one who followed in his footsteps, worked for him, idolized him. Obviously he didn’t know any of his dad’s sick secrets.

  His handsome face is stricken with sorrow and I say with a full heart, “Mr. Sinclair, I am so, so sorry for your loss.”

  He lifts a glass in salute and takes a sip.

  “Sorry for my loss?” he slurs. It’s obvious he’s drunk, and I don’t blame him. “He was my heir. The only one who understood the business, or me. I worked with him every day. And now he’s gone.”

  He takes a wobbly step forward.

  “Clayton and your wife are in the living room. Do you want me to take you to them?”

  “By all means,” he tells me. “Take me to my loving son and wife.”

  I put my hand on his lower back and lead him into the living room, where Clayton and his mom have been joined by Michael. All three are now huddled together on the couch in front of the fire. When we walk in, they turn and stare at us. I’m too frightened to meet Clayton’s gaze.

  “I found him wandering in the hall,” I explain softly and look at the only person who safe. Michael.

  I hurt for the pain I see on his face but I am reassured by his kind smile.

  “Thank you, Sophie,” Michael says as he gets up and walks to his father.

  “Isn’t she lovely,” Clayton’s dad says. When he reaches Michael, he throws himself in his arms, his body trembling in pain.

  “Oh, God!” he says in anguish. “What am I going to do?”

  I can’t help myself. I immediately start to cry. I look at Clayton in desperation and his eyes are misty but cold as they meet mine. I almost take a step back from what I can only describe as animosity.

  “That will be all, Sophie,” he says icily.

  I hope my face hasn’t turned bright red. He’s dismissed me like someone who works for him. I nod curtly and leave the room. I can feel the sting of his eyes on my back. I brush away the tears and tell myself that it’s alright. He’s grieving. I need to let it go.

  But I run to find Erik and Orie.

  I’m so relieved when I find them in the library. They’re drinking wine and nothing looks better.

  “Pour me a glass,” I demand.

  Erik immediately gets up and within seconds I’m holding a glass of red. I find a seat on the couch and Erik joins me.

  “We need that magic juice as well,” Georgie says as he walks in holding Abby’s hand. For a second I forget about the tragedy, because Georgie’s outfit completely distracts me. He’s wearing bright purple suede pants, a purple leather vest, and an orange T-shirt. But his shoes are what have me really riveted. They are neon yellow. I’m pretty sure they’re some designer brand and cost a fortune but they’re very distracting. My not-so-subtle best friend whispers, “At least we finally have something to laugh at.”

  I don’t dare glance at him.

  Instead, I focus on Abby, who looks pale and fragile. Her eyes are swollen from all the
tears she’s shed. I go to her and hug her.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I tell her with emotion.

  She hugs me back tightly.

  “Thank you,” she says. “We are devastated.”

  “It’s awful,” I tell her as we separate and I return to my seat.

  “William was light, Sophie,” she tells me. “He was so easy and carefree. Always laughing and smiling. He was the one that everyone loved.”

  Georgie hands her a glass of red wine and she takes a long sip. I do the same. At this point it is almost medicinal.

  “As soon as we heard, we postponed the wedding,” she tells us, to no one’s surprise.

  “Clayton got a call in the middle of the night,” Abby goes on to tell us, “and waited until this morning to tell Michael and his parents. He sat in his office until six. At least, that’s what I was told.”

  I can’t stop the ache in my heart for him. Why did he choose to suffer on his own? Why didn’t he wake me up to be there for him?

  “What are their plans?” Orie asks.

  “I believe they’re leaving tonight,” Abby says.

  “They are?” I say.

  Abby turns to me.

  “Yes,” she says. “I thought you knew.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to really speak to Clayton,” I explain. “But I’m not surprised.”

  “They want to get home quickly to make arrangements for the funeral,” Abby explains.

  I shake my head and try not to let the sick feeling of dread wash over me again. But my stomach has already dropped straight through the floor.

  “Of course,” I whisper.

  “We can be out of here by tomorrow as well,” Erik hurries out.

  “There is no rush,” Abby promises.

  “No,” Orie replies. “We’ll get it all sorted in the morning so the family can be alone. This is a time for everyone to come together and remember all the great times with William.”

  Erik takes my hand and squeezes it tightly.

  “What?” I ask. I know my voice is hoarse.

  “Nothing,” he tells me. “I just want to tell you I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Don’t worry,” Erik says.

  “I’m not.” I give him a reassuring smile.