Turning my head to look at Rick, I took a deep breath to try and settle my nerves and think rationally. “So what are you going to do about Diana?”
“I’ll apologize for what happened,” he said, “because I owe her that. But otherwise, we’re done. I don’t want what she wants. It’s best if she moves on.”
His decision seemed so final. He sounded callous.
And where did that leave me? I wondered. What was I going to do?
I had betrayed my twin. Was it even possible to fix what I had broken?
Rick and I said very little to each other the rest of the way home, but when we finally entered the city, I had made up my mind about one thing, at least.
“When you drop me off at my apartment,” I said, “I don’t want to ever see you again. We did a terrible thing, and I wrecked the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Keeping his eyes on the road, he touched my leg and spoke imploringly. “Nadia...”
“No.” I pushed his hand away. “Don’t do that. This is tainted. All I want is for Diana to forgive me. Just please take me home.”
When he pulled over in front of my apartment, got out and opened the trunk, he said, “This isn’t over.”
“Oh, yes it is,” I replied, as I took my suitcase from him.
He slammed the trunk shut and got back into his car.
As I stood on the curb, watching the taillights grow distant, I realized with a pang of sadness that I was alone again, and somehow, this time felt worse than all the others.
Maybe it would have been better if I’d never known Diana existed.
Chapter Forty-four
OVER THE NEXT few days, I tried everything. I called Diana’s cell phone repeatedly and left voice mail messages to apologize for what happened and express my regret. I sent her long emails where I struggled over how to explain why I had made such a foolish mistake: I was a lonely person. I just wanted to be loved. I was flattered by the attentions of a man like Rick. I was under some kind of spell.
I was weak. Stupid. Insecure. Desperate.
I told her I would never see Rick again, and I begged for her forgiveness.
All the while, I wondered if Rick was doing the same thing – begging for her to take him back. Maybe he had come to his senses and was on his way out east with an engagement ring, and I would be pushed out of the circle.
Eventually, after about three days, Diana finally responded to one of my emails. It arrived in my inbox while I was at work.
Dear Nadia,
Please stop calling and sending emails. I understand that you’re sorry and you regret what happened, but I can’t tell you it’s okay, because it’s not.
Please, just leave me alone.
Diana
The words devastated me. I buried my face in my hands. I wanted to let out a gut-wrenching sob, but there were clients in the waiting area. Somehow I managed to keep it together by tugging a tissue out of the Kleenex box and blowing my nose.
I placed my hand on the mouse at my computer and clicked through to Diana’s Facebook page, just to see a picture of her smiling face, but she had unfriended and blocked me.
There was a part of me that hated her in that moment. Beautiful Diana, who had everything. She had no qualms about punishing me. Shutting me out of her perfect world.
I felt a little queasy, but willed myself not to hate her, and not to lose hope. Maybe someday, she would be able to forgive me. Maybe I just needed to be patient, and give her time to heal, and she would invite me back in. But how long would it take? How many more lost years would there be?
Chapter Forty-five
A MONTH WENT by, and the holiday season loomed. It was not my favorite time of year, as I had no family to visit, or any nieces or nephews to spoil. I had a few cousins who lived in Arizona – from my adoptive father’s side – but I’d only met them a few times when I was very young. We lost touch after he left us.
Though I did my best to honor Diana’s wishes to be left alone, I secretly hoped she might contact me at Christmas time. Maybe she would send a card. It would have been the most cherished gift I could receive, but we hadn’t spoken since Vegas, and I knew that was unlikely.
I did send a text to Rick after Thanksgiving, to ask if he’d heard from Diana, or if he knew when she planned to return to her job in LA. He texted me back and told me that she’d arranged to have all her things from the apartment shipped home to Bar Harbor, and as far as he knew, she had taken an extended leave of absence from work.
I prayed she was okay. It killed me to think that I had ruined her life, and that she despised me. Sometimes my regret was so agonising, I would curl up in a ball, as if someone had plunged a knife into my stomach.
In those dark moments, I struggled to remember what Rick said to me one night – that I was a survivor – and I clung to that belief. I also clung to the hope that something good would happen – anything – and my future would eventually take on a brighter hue.
I wasn’t certain what my future held, but it seemed impossible that I could be dealt any more luckless, crappy hands. There had to be some balance in the universe. Surely.
A week before Christmas, while I was at work, waiting to go on lunch break, a well-dressed gentleman in a black wool overcoat entered the reception area and approached the desk. It took me a few seconds to recognize him, but as soon as I did, my hands clenched into fists.
“Hi Nadia,” he said with a smile.
“What do you want?” I quietly asked, because I wasn’t proud of the nature of our acquaintance.
Richard – the blind date who had taken me out to dinner and attacked me in a dark alley – set a glittery Christmas gift bag on the high granite counter that stood between us. “I brought you something.”
“Whatever it is,” I replied, “I don’t want it.
He nodded, as if he’d been expecting me to say that. “I can’t blame you. But that’s why I’m here – to apologize for how I behaved when I took you out.”
“Apology accepted,” I said flatly. “Now you can leave, and take the gift with you.”
“Please...” He tilted his head to the side. “It’s just a Christmas cookie from the bakery down the street. I’m not trying to cause trouble. I just want to tell you how sorry I am. I was a jerk that night, and you didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”
I felt my brow furrow suspiciously as I stared at him across the countertop.
When I still made no move to accept his gift, he buried his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been going to AA,” he explained. “After what happened with you that night, I knew I had to make some changes. I didn’t want to end up like my dad.”
“Oh.” My shoulders relaxed slightly, and I felt obligated to at least give him some encouragement, because I couldn’t forget how many times my mother begged my father to get help – but he always refused. She told me that if he had gone to AA, we probably would have stayed together as a family. But it was too much for my father. He didn’t want anything to get in the way of his drinking, not even his wife and daughter.
“That was a wise decision,” I said to Richard. “How is it going?”
He cocked his head from side to side. “Some days are easier than others, but I’m determined. I haven’t had a drink since that night I took you out, so I’m also here to thank you – and your friend – for knocking some sense into me.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “He did do quite a number on you.”
“So did you,” Richard said. “What was it you said to me? Oh yes... ‘I hope the rats eat you.’”
I grinned sheepishly, then took the gift bag from the counter, pulled out the red and green tissue paper, and withdrew a giant frosted sugar cookie wrapped in clear cellophane. It was a Victorian styled Santa Clause.
“This is a work of art,” I said, in awe of the detail in the frosting. “I couldn’t possibly bite into it.”
“Sure you could,” Richard replied. “The baker would want you to enjoy it.”
Ida, the office manager, came through the door just then. “Sorry I’m late. I got stuck at the photocopier, but please take your full hour.”
“Are you going to lunch?” Richard asked me, as I bent to grab my purse from under the desk.
“Yes.”
“Can I treat you? I was just going to grab a sandwich myself.”
I wasn’t sure about this. Just because he was going to AA didn’t mean he could be trusted.
“I’m just going to the deli downstairs,” I told him. “Then I have some errands to run.”
“Oh, no problem,” he replied with disappointment. “Could we at least ride the elevator together?”
As we walked out of the office lobby, I made an effort to sound cheerful. “Sure.”
Starting Over
Chapter Forty-six
Boston
Diana
“THANKS FOR COMING in, Jackie,” I said as I escorted my client out of my office. “Since this is uncontested, everything should move through the system fairly quickly.”
I wished all divorces were as cordial as Jackie’s. She and her husband had agreed to split everything straight down the middle, including the proceeds from the house, which they had recently sold. There were no children involved, therefore no custody issues to fight about.
But still... It was the breakdown of a five-year marriage, and not without its share of pain.
As I returned to my desk and sat down, I tried to remember why I’d specialized in this area of the law. In the beginning – when I was fresh out of law school – I’d wanted to help people through a difficult time as quickly and smoothly as possible, be their advocate, and share with them my hope and optimism about the future.
Unfortunately, the longer I practiced, the more jaded I became. Conflict and bitterness surrounded me on a daily basis, and after what happened to me in LA, I suddenly understood that a messy divorce could happen to anyone, even me. My parents might enjoy a happy, successful marriage, but that didn’t make me immune to disappointment, or safe from disaster. Anything could fall apart, unexpectedly, at any time.
Nevertheless, since returning to the east coast and leaving my high-paying job in LA, I made a sincere effort not to fixate on the ugly events of my recent past.
Not that I didn’t suffer, moan, and complain when I landed there. Oh, I did plenty of that in the first four weeks. I had retreated to my childhood home in Bar Harbor – which belonged to my parents, who spent most of their time in Washington, DC. I did nothing but go to yoga class, eat ice cream, and laze around in sweat pants. Then, I woke up one morning, looked at my pathetic reflection in the mirror, and said, “Diana, get a grip.”
A few days later, I contacted a college friend who had recently opened her own law practice in Boston, and she invited me to join her as an associate until I figured out what to do with the rest of my life. So off I went. I packed my things and found a red brick, colonial revival townhouse to rent in Beacon Hill. I also hired an experienced executive assistant to work with me at the practice. Her name was Marion and she was a lovely, compassionate woman, happily married for forty years.
Marion entered my office and placed a file on my desk. “Do you need anything else before I go?” she asked.
I checked my watch. “Is it 5:00 already?”
“Sure is,” she replied. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”
I smiled. “See you tomorrow, Marion.”
A few minutes later, I heard the outer door close, and it grew quiet in the office. Kicking off my heels under the desk, I lounged back and swiveled around in my big leather chair to look out the window at the boats in Boston Harbor.
“No regrets,” I said to myself, pleased to be home.
Then my cell phone vibrated on my desk, and I swiveled back around to answer it.
Chapter Forty-seven
“HI BECKY,” I said. “What’s up?”
Becky called often to chat, even when I was at work, but on that particular day, the hesitation in her voice alerted me to the fact that something was wrong.
“Have you been talking to Adam?” she asked.
My stomach turned over with dread. “No, why? Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” she said.
There was a long pause, and I couldn’t take the suspense. “What is it? Tell me.”
She took a deep breath. “We weren’t sure if we should tell you this, but in the end, we thought it best if you knew.”
“Knew what?” By this time, my heart was pounding like a drum.
“Nadia’s pregnant.”
All the air sailed out of my lungs, and I leaned back in my chair. “Oh God. Is it Rick’s?”
“Yes.”
The walls felt like they were closing in around me. “How did you find out?”
She cleared her throat, and I knew it wasn’t easy for her to deliver this news to me. Nevertheless, she forged ahead.
“Believe it or not, Nadia and I are still Facebook friends,” Becky explained. “She doesn’t post on my wall or anything, and I certainly don’t send her messages, but I assume she creeps my page just like I creep hers. Every once in a while, I check to see what she’s up to.”
“I didn’t think they were even together,” I said, still reeling with shock. “The last time I looked at Rick’s page – and that was about a month after Vegas – he was dating a bunch of different women. It looked to me like he was enjoying the single life.”
“I’m sure he was,” Becky replied, “but apparently, he and Nadia hooked up again last spring.”
I shut my eyes and covered my forehead with my palm.
Becky continued to explain what she knew. “I only saw it a few days ago – the status update where she announced she was pregnant. A bunch of friends congratulated her.”
“I didn’t think she had any friends.” It was a nasty remark, definitely below the belt, but I was still so angry with her.
“Well,” Becky replied, “keep in mind these are Facebook friends. She has thirty-two of them. Anyway, when I saw that, I nearly had a coronary. Her relationship status said single, so I didn’t know who the heck the father was. I knew she had been dating some other guy for a while, but then she ended up back with Rick.”
“How can you be sure it’s Rick’s baby?” I asked. “Maybe it’s the other guy’s.”
Becky paused. “I was curious about that too, so I called Adam. As soon as we hung up, he picked up the phone and called Rick, and got the full scoop, every last detail, from start to finish.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I suppose you’re going to give me all the dirt now.”
“Do you want me to?”
I considered it a moment, and decided that yes, I needed to know everything. Otherwise, curiosity would eat away at me forever, like poison in my blood, and I wanted to deal with this directly so that I could move past it. “Yes, I want to know.”
“All right, then.” She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “Rick told Adam that after Vegas, Nadia said she never wanted to see him again, so he drove off and let it go. You officially dumped him, so he dated a lot. Then around Christmas time, Nadia started seeing some guy she had dated once before. According to Rick, he was a real nut job, but Nadia gave him a second chance because he had joined AA.”
“Isn’t it a recommendation that addicts aren’t supposed to date when they’re in treatment?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she replied. “That should have been her first clue.”
I exhaled heavily. “Poor Nadia. She’s not the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to men.” I thought about how she’d kissed Rick – my Rick – in an elevator, when she knew I loved him and wanted to marry him.
On that note, maybe I wasn’t terribly sharp about men either.
“Anyway,” Becky continued, “Rick said the guy stayed sober for about sixty days, then he got loaded one night and smack
ed her around. She didn’t know who to call, so she called Rick, and he came to her rescue.”
“Just like the last time,” I said. “I think that’s what started everything. It was after that when I began to notice an attraction between them.”
“To make a long story short,” Becky continued, “Nadia got pregnant right away, but Rick told Adam he suspected she did it intentionally, just to trap him.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” I said. “So where does it stand now? Please don’t tell me they’re getting married.”
Becky scoffed. “God, no. It sounds like they hate each other. Believe me, when Adam told me the rest of this, I was glad you caught Rick cheating on you. Trust me, Diana. You’re better off without him. He wasn’t worthy of you.”
Becky’s words were both satisfying and comforting. Ordinarily, I was not a cruel person, but there was a wounded part of me that took pleasure in the news that Rick and Nadia’s relationship had imploded. That they were not blissfully happy and in love and thankful that I got out of their way.
“They’ve already signed a legal agreement about their separation,” Becky continued. “He doesn’t want custody of the child, and he didn’t even ask for visitation rights. He wants no part of it.”
“He doesn’t want to know his own child?” I said.
“Nope.”
This was inconceivable to me. “Did Adam get the details of the settlement?” I asked. It was my area of expertise, after all, and I couldn’t stem my curiosity.
“Rick gave her his car,” Becky said, “plus a fifty-thousand-dollar lump sum.”
My mouth fell open. “You’re kidding me. That’s all she got?” I sat forward. “My God, what kind of idiot legal counsel did she have? I would have gotten her way more than that – not to mention some sort of regular support payment until the child reached majority. She’ll blow through fifty thousand dollars in a heartbeat. Eventually she’ll be living out of her car with her kid in the back seat, just like her mother. It’s mind boggling.”
The Color of Heaven Series [03] The Color of Hope Page 11
