“Shitty chances,” I say and he chuckles half-heartedly. Nothing is funny right now.
“I don’t know what to say.” He wraps me in his arms again.
“Me neither,” he says. “I don’t think there is anything we can say.”
So we sit in silence and hold one another until there’s light in the sky and the start of a new day.
Twenty-Six
Neither of us gets any sleep and we finally get out of bed around six. Without even asking, Sylas goes to the kitchen and makes coffee for both of us. I consider taking a shower, but don’t feel like it. Sylas comes back with the coffee as I’m trying to get dressed.
“What are you going to do now?” he asks as he hands me the cup and sips from his own.
“There’s only one thing to do. My father kept this from me. I want to know why. And I want to know how he could keep this from me for so long. And you deserve to know, too.” He sets his cup down and looks out the window, splitting the blinds.
I finish my coffee and go to the kitchen for more, wincing as I walk on my cut feet.
“You should have let me do that,” he says, coming up behind me.
“It’s okay,” I say and top him off while I have the pot in my hand.
“I don’t want to put you through something that’s going to hurt you,” I say, trying to give him an out.
He steps behind me and starts massaging my shoulders. It almost hurts because my muscles are so incredibly tense.
“A part of me wants to confront him too. I want to see him explain himself. I think it will be good for both of us.” Good.
Sylas keeps massaging my shoulders and I wish we could just go back to bed and spend the day naked and sweating together. For the thousandth time, I wish we were a normal couple with normal problems.
I can’t deal with sitting around the house, so we both get dressed and head over to my parents’ before eight. My father is a morning person and my mother will still be too drugged out on sleeping pills and wine to know what the hell is going on.
Dad’s car is in the driveway and Martha seems thrilled to see me. She even gives me a little hug.
“Let me get your father. Would you like some breakfast?” I shake my head as she walks briskly to the dining room where I know Dad’s eating his breakfast and reading the paper. He does the same thing every morning. Like clockwork.
He comes out, still wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“Saige?” he asks and I can tell he’s wary, but happy that I’m here.
I take a breath and squeeze Sylas’ hand.
“Why didn’t you tell me I was there when Marina was killed?” The napkin drops to the floor and Dad goes completely white.
“When did you remember?”
“Last night.” He brings his hand to his mouth and I’ve never seen him look so spooked. So scared.
Sylas clears his throat.
“I think you owe her an explanation,” he says. Dad looks at Sylas as if it’s the first time he’s ever seen him before.
Dad blinks and then stutters as he says “Let’s go to my office.” He robotically walks back to the door and then holds it open for Sylas and me.
He locks it behind us and everyone sits down.
Dad looks a little better, but he’s still rattled.
“I never thought you were going to remember. That it was too much for you,” he says and I want to interrupt him, but I don’t. I need to hear his entire explanation.
“When I found you, your eyes were totally glazed over. I called your name, but you didn’t answer. I got you home and tucked in your bed, and then took a shower so I wouldn’t be covered in blood when you came back around. By the time I went to check on you, you were asleep. The next morning you acted like nothing had happened. As if the event had been erased from your brain. I asked you leading questions and… nothing. You never said anything. Never asked. I thought you had repressed the memory. I was so angry that you had seen that.” He closes his eyes and takes a breath, as if he needs a moment.
“Over the years, I waited for the memory to come back and then when it didn’t, I thought you were out of the woods. That your brain had protected you from something too awful. Too terrible to be real. I thought it was for the best.”
I can understand where he’s coming from, but I still need answers.
“What were you doing there?” I ask.
He leans on his desk, as if he needs the support.
“I had people watching the house. Watching her. I knew that husband of hers was up to something and sooner or later, she was probably going to be collateral damage. I was trying to protect her that day. But I was too late.” His eyes are wet and red with unshed tears. I look at Sylas beside me and he’s rigid in his chair. His face unmoving.
“I… I thought I could save her but I was too late. It was already done.” He’s looking at Sylas as he speaks.
Sylas breathes in a jerky manner, as if it’s not easy. His hands are shaking and I reach out to hold one of them.
“Is there anything you want to say to me, Sylas?” Dad says.
“No,” he says. “No. I don’t want to hear anything from you. I’m sorry, Saige, I need a moment.” I tell him it’s okay, and he gets up and leaves the room. I let him go, giving him time with his grief.
“This is really fucked up,” I say, but Dad doesn’t reprimand me for cursing.
“Yes. It is.”
We’re both silent for a while.
“Is this the last secret?” I ask.
“Yes. This is the last secret. I promise. And I’ll tell you the details about anything else you want to know. No censoring.” I shake my head.
“I don’t need it. I just want to make sure this is the last secret about me that you’re keeping from me.” I need to hear him say it again.
“Yes. It is the last one.”
“Do you feel better now that you’ve killed him?” I ask. I’ve been wanting to know the answer to this question ever since he got back.
“Yes and no. It doesn’t solve anything, but it was still the right thing to do. For her.” Marina. I wonder what she thinks. If she’s looking down on all of us and watching us make mistake after mistake.
“I know what you did and why you did it. I’m not angry at you for hiding it from me. I just… I just wish I hadn’t hopped in the trunk that day,” I say.
“I know. I wish that too. I wish I hadn’t gotten in my car and driven that day. Seeing her like that… it’s an image I will never get out of my head. When I close my eyes at night and when I wake from nightmares, that’s what I see. If I could take that image from your mind, I would.”
He falls silent and we’re both lost in our thoughts for a few minutes.
“I should go find him,” I say.
Dad gets up from his desk.
“Can I give you a hug?” He’s never asked me that before. It seems strange.
“Yes,” I say and he comes around the desk. I put my arms around his waist, lightly at first and then tighter. I don’t remember the last time he hugged me like this. He kisses the top of my head.
“I’ll eat you up, I love you so,” he whispers and I look up at him.
“What was that?” A small smile lifts his lips and his eyes glitter.
“Marina used to say that. It’s from a children’s book, Where the Wild Things Are.”
“I know,” I say.
I find Sylas in the garden, sitting on the bench swing in the gazebo. He gives me a tight smile as I walk up the steps and sit down next to him.
“I want to ask you if you’re okay, but I know you hate it,” I say. My feet don’t touch the floor of the gazebo, so Sylas rocks us back and forth.
“I’m more okay that I was, I suppose. Just more material for therapy, right?” He turns his head and gives me a wry smile. I’m shocked he’s being calm about it.