If he hadn’t called, she would’ve just let it go and allowed him to live his life of lies since that seemed to be what he wanted. But he did call, and she knew that no matter what the consequences would be, he needed to know the truth. All of it.
Victor gave her another bewildered look but promptly opened the envelope and began reading the letter. When he flipped over the first page and began reading the results of the paternity test, she prepared herself for the worst.
"What? This can't be... When?" he eyes rapidly flicked over the document.
"When I went to see Anthony that day. I went there out of morbid curiosity, and, yes, to prove that the man I…” she swallowed loudly but refused to acknowledge her true feelings. “…Was really the son of a serial killer. But the more I talked to him and the more I looked at him and watched his mannerisms, the more I realized there was nothing of you in him. On a whim, I asked him for the piece of gum he was chewing as a souvenir. I took a swab of you while you were sleeping and sent them both in for a paternity test. I’m sorry I lied to you, but I had to know, for my own peace of mind."
"This has to be wrong..."doubt throbbed in his voice.
"You seem disappointed in finding out the serial killer you thought was your father, isn't. Why is that?" she asked in astonishment.
"This is bullshit!" He stood and slammed the paper onto the coffee table.
"What's bullshit is that you convinced yourself that a sociopath was your father. And what’s bullshit is that you created Mr. Black out of some misguided sense of guilt and shame."
"We’ve already been through that! I didn't create Mr. Black. He's a part of who I am; a piece of my personality," his voice rumbled loudly.
"Fine. He's part of you,” her voice rose in response. “We all have a side to us that's dark, dirty and secretive. All of us. You're no exception. But you let that part of you run loose and ruin lives, namely yours."
His massive shoulders heaved with his labored breathing. "The other half who created me is still indisputable.”
"I don't want to hear you compare yourself to your mother because there is no comparison. Yes, she was a horrible parent and a cruel person, but you pulled yourself out of that situation. You rose above it. You’ve helped people. You're noble and brave when you want to be, and even when you don't mean to be. Has it been so many years that you can't remember the person you were before Scarlet Greene came along?"
"Don't say her name,” he growled so deeply it startled her, making her back away.
"Jesus, Victor. You're the one with the psychology degree. Can't you focus that high-powered analytical lens into your own brain and see what you've done to yourself?"
"Why did you do this?” he yelled as he lunged toward her again. She feared the worse, but he simply shook her by the shoulders. “What the fuck were you trying to prove?”
“That you’re not the man you think you are. I don’t know how you came to the conclusion you did, or even who your real father is, but it is not Anthony Bruce,” she whispered.
“I went on what my mother told me…” he appeared to be frantically trying to recall the past as his hands tightened around her shoulders. “I even did the math in case she was wrong. I went on the details she gave me - his age, what he looked like, when they met, when I was born… I did the fucking numbers. She told me it was Anthony Bruce…” His eyes scanned the room, trying to find something that wasn’t there.
“Your mother was a drunk and a liar by your own account, Victor. Did it ever occur to you that she might have lied?” Elsa was astounded. Victor’s destiny had been revealed and he was still trying to dispute the DNA evidence that was staring him in the face. When she reached up to touch his face, he jerked his head away and moved to the other end of the room.
“Why would she do that? There would be no reason for her to lie about that…” his eyes stabbed into her.
“I don’t know…” she shook her head. All she could do was guess, like him. “Maybe she got it wrong. She was drunk when she was with the man who fathered you. And she was cruel. Maybe she did it to make you doubt yourself and make you feel weak, and hate yourself. To make you think you were less than the amazing man you are…” She took a step toward him but he promptly put his hands up to stop her.
“Shut up. Please, God, Elsa, just shut the fuck up!” he fisted his hair. “I’m not amazing. I can’t think…” He began pacing the living room. “Why do you always have to be so Goddamn nosy?” his voice cracked. “Why couldn’t you just let me go on believing that…” he swallowed loudly. “That I’m a worthless piece of shit,” he choked out. “Why did you have to come back here tonight?”
When he sank onto the chaise and hid his face in his hands, she fell to her knees in front of him. With her face pressed against his thighs, a sob escaped her throat. This beautiful, tortured man… this cruel son-of-a-bitch, this confused little boy… she had broken him. She had finally broken him…
“You’re not, Victor. You’re not. Can’t you see what I see in you?”
“Why…” he finally drew his hands away from his tear soaked face.
The words she wanted to say clogged her throat. The day she was released from the hospital after her breakdown, she had promised herself she wouldn’t ever take him back, but she had been forced to, and now, here she was, breaking the other promise she made to herself by falling in love with him again.
“Because I love you. I always will,” her words came out strained.
"You said you wouldn't say that again until I earned it."
"You have earned it, Victor. And my forgiveness.”
31: Blackened Heart
Hours had passed without Victor saying one single word to Elsa. He had simply sat in the chaise reading the letter over and over as he slowly came to grips with what it revealed. He had emotionally withdrawn from her and she had fallen asleep on the floor at his feet.
When she felt her body being lifted and placed onto the couch, she woke and sat up to face him as he sat on the coffee table in front of her.
She feared what his answer would be, but the question lingering in her mind needed to be asked. “Now that you’re not the person you thought you were, now that your future is unwritten, now that the game is over, what becomes of us? Where do we go from here?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t plan for this… I’m so lost.” The command that was usually in his voice was gone. When she reached out to him, he stood, grabbed her coat off the floor and handed it to her. “You should go, Elsa.”
A sob welled up in her and a deep sense of déjà vu struck her as she robotically moved toward the door. After all this time, after all their angst and drama, they were right back to where they had left off; her now standing with her hand on the knob, ready to walk away from him. Only this time, it would really be forever. Her heart ached like it had before, but more intensely. She loved him, and even more than before. And still, he just stood there like he did that fateful last day with him, withdrawing from her and pushing her away.
Slowly she turned away and turned the knob. Forever. She had survived his loss before; she was strong; she could do it again. She repeated the words over and over in her mind, trying to convince herself of what she knew was a lie. The door cracked open, an arctic gust of wind pushing it open and chilling the tears on her lashes. There would be no getting over him this time…
The bright moonlight poured into the darkened entry way and she gazed up at it. It would be a long night. The darkness would last forever. There would be no more sun in her future. No more light. What little bit she had left flickered out as she stepped forward, reluctantly ready to move forward with a future without Victor.