Clarity 3 (18 page)

“They’re in a drawer in the kitchen,” I tell him as I begin moving up the stairs. “The third one down from the forks and knives.”

“That’s right,” he says in a hushed voice. “Helen? Please say it again. Do you really forgive me?”

I frown as I turn
around to look down at him. “Yes. I do forgive you.”

“Thank you,” he tells me, smiling through his tears as he gazes up at me. “I have needed to hear those words for so long. Now, maybe I can finally have some peace. Thank you, my angel.”

I find myself making an amused face at these words. “I’m hardly an angel,” I inform him lightly.

Grayson moves up the steps until he’s standing on the one directly below me. He looks into my eyes with a strange intensity, and reaches up to slide his hand against my jaw and cup my cheek. I find myself growing tense again
, and flinching slightly at his touch.

“May I kiss you?” he whispers.

I lift an eyebrow. “It’s not like you to ask permission,” I tell him dryly.

“I’m never going to see you again,” he says. “Please, Helen. Just one kiss. I’m begging you.”

“If I say no, are you going to do it anyway?” I ask him mockingly, but I can see how devastated he is. Maybe I shouldn’t be making fun of him in this moment.

“Helen,” he says
in a hushed voice. “Will you have mercy on my poor, damned soul and kiss me one last time?”

Perhaps it’s just like the cigarette. Perhaps it’s just my damaged state of mind after Liam’s betrayal. Perhaps it’s due to the fact that
I’m about to permanently isolate myself from humanity, and I might never touch a man again for as long as I live. Perhaps I just don’t give a fuck anymore. Or perhaps it does seem like the perfect ending to my story with Grayson; a small act to signify that we’re putting all this behind us for good.

I am appalled at myself as I lean down and place a kiss against his lips.
For a moment, I almost expect that my skin will sizzle and melt at the contact, like I’ve kissed some kind of demon. But nothing happens. I feel absolutely nothing. I don’t even feel disgust.

He is just a man. All along, he was just a man.

The tears sliding down his cheeks moisten mine, and for a moment, I do feel like an angel. I can feel his hands on my back, and I almost feel like he is caressing my wings. I didn’t know it was possible to put all of my compassion into a kiss, but that is what this is. Now, it’s really over.

I pull away and step backward, moving up the stairs a little shakily.
“There,” I say bitterly. I’m feeling a little disturbed by all of this emotion. “I’m going to go grab those photo albums and leave. Goodbye, Grayson.”

“Goodbye, sweet girl,” he says softly. “Thank you for setting me free.”

There’s a strange madness in his face, and I can’t look at him any longer. I turn and head up the staircase, feeling dizzy and dazed. I am a bit overwhelmed by the confrontation, but I am also satisfied with the sense of completion and closure. I think that maybe we both needed this to move on with our lives.

I think that now, I can finally find peace, too.

Moving swiftly through the hallway to my bedroom, I open the door and try not to get distracted by the gorgeous furnishings and décor. I move directly to the albums that are sitting on my dresser. I flip a page open just to make sure that they are the correct albums, meant for me. Seeing the smiling faces is instantly too much to bear. It hits me like a punch in the stomach as I see the love of my mother and father covering the pages. I can also see the old, familiar closeness that my sister and I used to share. We’re tangled up in some sort of brawl in most of these photos, with our expensive dresses covered in mud.

A nostalgic smile touches my lips.
It’s almost enough to convince me to stay. All the memories I’ve lost, like sand slipping through my fingers, are crystallized here in photographic form. I almost can’t believe that all these precious moments in time have been frozen in images that I have never been able to see. Looking through these albums will be like reliving my entire childhood through new eyes.

For a moment, I fantasize about sitting by the roaring fireplace with my father and sister, and flipping through these albums as we laugh and reminisce.
Maybe we could all be a family again. I don’t think I even mind if Grayson is there. I think that maybe we could be cool. Maybe I could be there for the new photographs and memories. It’s been years since we’ve made any. Maybe, I could be part of the childhood of Carmen’s baby and watch him or her grow up. I could see all the new smiles and new joys that we always dreamed of when we were little girls. Maybe there is still hope for all of us.

A loud crash startles me from my thoughts.
I close the albums and gather them up in my arms as I exit my room and head back to the center of the house where I can see the light from the chandelier illuminating the staircase. As I approach the landing, I turn and gaze down into the foyer.

My heart skips a beat
.

The scene
before me is too horrible to be real. I am sure that it is only my faulty eyes playing tricks on me. It’s impossible.

“Grayson?”
I whisper, as I stand rooted to the spot. I fight against my paralysis to begin moving down the staircase. I hug the albums tightly against my chest. There is a small ladder lying on the ground, as though it has been kicked over.

A few feet above the fallen ladder, a pair of legs are swaying back and forth.

I want to shut my eyes to keep from seeing this, but I find myself looking up to take in the rest of the man’s body. His arms are lying limply at his sides, and his head is tilted to the side at an odd angle. There is a rope around his neck, and it is tied to the gorgeous chandelier in the center of our foyer.

I have to hold onto the railing of the staircase to help me descend. I am feeling a bit faint, and I am worried that I might collapse. I feel as though all the blood has drained from my body. I manage to get to the final stair before I fall forward, collapsing to my knees.
I drop the photo albums and bring my hands to cover my face. I find that my breathing is erratic and strained.

“Grayson!” I call out, half-expecting him to respond.
“Grayson!”

I place both of my hands flat on the ground as a sob shakes my chest.

I had only just started to see the goodness in him.

“You’re not a monster,” I tell h
is swaying body. “Grayson, why? I forgive you. I forgive you. I promise. Please don’t be gone.” Pain shoots through the back of my eyes as I experience a few seconds of distorted vision. I welcome this, almost wishing that I could never see again. I know that this is my fault. I must have said or done something that led him to do this.

I find that tears are pouring down my cheeks and I am unable to stop crying. My head begins to ache, pounding worse than the worst hangover possible. My heart hurts so badly that I feel that it might stop. I don’t know why I feel so much pain for the loss of a man that I cared so little for. What does it matter now? He was a man. A few minutes ago, he was a living, breathing man.

Even he deserved to live.

Looking around, it occurs to me that he never even brought the light bulbs. He never intended to change them. This was his plan all along. “You bastard!” I s
cream as I stare at his shoes, which are swaying back and forth in front of my eyes. “How could you do this? You have a baby on the way. My sister is having your baby.”

I clutch at my chest, digging my fingers into my ribcage to try and claw out my traitorous, senseless
heart. My stomach constricts with pain and nausea, and all my insides explode with agony. A wail of misery leaves my throat as I gasp and cry. I sob until I cannot breathe.

“Grayson,” I whisper. “It’s not too late. Please. You can be better. You can still be a good person.”
I fall forward until my face is resting against the cool floor, and my tears begin to pool beneath my cheek. “It’s not too late. I forgive you.”

My eyes close for a second, and when they open, my vision is hazy and imperfect. I see the fallen photo albums lying a few feet away, and I reach out and place my hand on their leather covers. “Carm
en,” I whisper to the thousands of photographs of a joyful young girl. What have I done? My sister. My big sister that I loved more than anything in the world.

Have I ruined her life forever?

I continue to lie on the ground and cry until the pain is too intense to bear. I place my hand on the ground and try to push myself up into a seated position.

The worst part is that I have the strongest desire to run home to Liam.
I want to throw myself at him and feel his arms around me. Liam was my hero and he could have made anything better. Even this. He would have found the words to heal my heart; he would have touched me in a way that mended my soul. He would have made me feel safe.

But
he isn’t mine anymore. He isn’t my home anymore. This isn’t my home anymore, either. For the first time, it really hits me how alone I am.

Everything is falling apart.

I have to get away.

Reaching out, I
try to pick up the photo albums. It takes me a minute as my arms are suddenly very weak. I stumble as I try to stand up, and I run out of the house. I trip toward my little car, and yank open the driver’s door to collapse into the front seat. I let my head fall back against the headrest as I continue to sob brokenly. When Snowball nudges her wet nose against my arm, I look down at her with love and desperation. She’s all I have left. I put the photo albums down in the passenger seat and gather Snowball up into my arms. I hold her close and press my face down into her small body to cry into her fur.

Snowball licks my cheek affectionately. She
nuzzles me with concern, as though she’s trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. I pull away and look down at her wretchedly, petting her soft head with both sorrow and adoration.

“Let’s get away from here,” I tell her with a sniffle. “Let’s find a place to call home.”

I have been driving and crying profusely for almost two hours when the phone calls start coming at more frequent and frantic intervals. It is clear to me that Liam now knows that something is wrong. He is barely letting a minute pass between his phone calls. I don’t care. I intend to ignore them all.

It has been becoming increasingly difficult to see the road due to the darkening sky
and my declining vision. It is only mid-afternoon, but there is a menacing thunderstorm brewing. I think that the nonstop crying has only escalated the regression of my eyesight. There is a great pain behind my eyes, and my head is throbbing. Sometimes, the road will become completely obscured for several seconds, and I’ll have to slow down and drive forward tentatively, trying to remember where the guardrails were. Now that I am far from the city, it is becoming more dangerous to drive on these remote, winding mountain roads. I have never driven on highways like these before, with such high speed limits and insane elevation changes and curves.

I am afraid.

As the heavy gray clouds gather above, I can see that they are preparing to dump oceans of tears down on my windshield. I am sure that the sky knows what has happened, and is grieving along with me. I can already hear the angry rumbling and see the flashes of lightning. It’s the perfect weather to be the soundtrack for this unbearably dreadful day. After getting the new address from my real estate agent, I programmed it into my GPS and have been driving to Pennsylvania ever since. I wish I could enjoy the scenery of the new landscape, but I am in no condition to appreciate this. The lightning is periodically illuminating the mountains on either side of the road, creating ominous dark silhouettes.

It is so terrifying to be alone out here.

Well, I am not, strictly speaking, alone. Snowball is curled up on the photo albums and shaking in terror at the sound of the thunder. She also seems rather upset at me for refusing to answer Liam’s phone calls. When his name first began to flash on my dashboard, it was a little comforting to see the letters. It was somewhat nice to know that he was trying to reach me at all—even if he was only calling to preserve all the dollar signs I represent. I know that I should turn off my phone so that I don’t have to listen to the loud, repetitive ringing as I ignore each excruciating phone call—but I want to listen. The ringing is a relic of what we used to have. It’s a small reminder of how he used to care—or how I used to believe that he cared. I almost wish I could have remained blissfully innocent and let him continue this farce.

Was it so awful that he was being kind to me for the wrong reasons? At least
someone was being kind to me at all. Maybe it was nice of my dad to try and purchase a man for me. Maybe it was a realistic approach to the situation. He did choose well; Liam was a wonderful boyfriend. Besides, it’s not like anyone in their right mind would ever love a sick girl without some kind of real motivation. My dad was really just looking out for my best interests.

Snowball barks at me,
growing very frustrated that I am letting the phone ring and not picking up Liam’s call. I think she wants to hear his voice.

“Trust me, we’re better off without him,” I tell her, wiping my nose on my sleeve. “He did
n’t really love either of us. I know that you liked our little family—and I did too—but it turns out that he was just a con artist. It was all a fraud.”

Snowball barks again, as though she disagrees with me.

“Look,” I tell her firmly, “I’m the human! I know these things better than you. He might have seemed nice, but things are a lot more complex than you can understand. I’m the daughter of a rich man, and you’re just a device to mollify me. Do you hear that, Snowball? You were just there to make me more trusting and easier to control. He was just toying with both of us. We were nothing to him. Nothing!”

Saying this causes
a new onslaught of tears to cascade down my face. The rain starts pounding down on my car at the same time, and I reach out to flip on my windshield wipers. Even this tiny flick of my fingers manages to make my heart ache a little more, because I can remember Liam’s hand on mine as he taught me how to do that. Everything about driving reminds me of him, and it’s agonizing even to be using the skills that he taught me. Even in this way, I am proving that I needed him.

“Nothing at all,” I repeat miserably.
“We’re nothing.”

Growling softly in disagreement, Snowball turns away from me. I could almost swear that she’s performing the canine equivalent of pouting.

I glance over at her in annoyance. “We were just temporary installments for him. Don’t you understand that? Even if he stuck with this scam for a couple years, he would have gotten bored. He was going to find a better girl someday—and a better dog. You should be thanking me for saving us from him.”

Snowball refuses to respond. The silent treatment is the worst thing she could possibly do to me, for once I am no longer talking, I can think about everything far too clearly
and quickly. The ringing of the phone calls and the pounding of the rain on the car all begin to fade into the background as my mind begins to fixate on the one thought I’m desperately trying to avoid.

I can still see Grayson’s body swaying back and forth
as he hangs from the chandelier.

All the mountains and trees and road signs disappear, and all I can see are his shoes drifting a few inches to the right—and then a few inches to the left.

A horn blares at me and car behind me flashes its high beams. I gasp and recoil; the bright glare in my rearview mirror causes my eyes to completely malfunction for a few seconds. I can see nothing, but I can hear the sound of tires squealing as the car that has been tailgating me begins to pass me in the opposite lane. When I can finally see, I am startled to find that a large SUV is inches away from my driver’s door. The other car passes by so close that if his passenger side mirror weren’t far above mine, it would have ripped my mirror off. He drives in front of me and slams on his breaks, causing me to nearly crash into the back of his car. I have to hit my own brakes forcefully, and I’m worried for a moment that I won’t be able to stop as my car skids on the slippery roads. I try to turn right hastily to drive into the shoulder, but I need to hold onto the steering wheel tightly and wiggle it around to try and help my tires catch their grip on the road again.

I narrowly miss hitting the car in front of me as it drives off, disappearing down the mountain road. I
gasp as I pull into the shoulder and put my car in park, hitting my emergency lights so that other drivers can see me. I let my head roll back against my headrest as I try to catch my breath. My heart is pounding. This has to be one of the worst days I have ever lived. I only have about an hour left to arrive at my new home, but I don’t know how I can possibly make it. I don’t know if I can even manage to travel one more mile without falling apart. I gaze at the guard rail that leads to a significant tumble down a steep cliff, and I seriously consider just removing my seatbelt and hitting the gas pedal to launch my car down that cliff. 

The idea causes me to cry harder. I don’t want to be having these thoughts. Plus, I have Snowball
with me. She doesn’t deserve that. I turn the key in the ignition to shut off the vehicle to deter myself from doing anything crazy. I have to live, at least to take care of my dog. I’m also in the middle of writing a book! I need to finish the story that my readers have been waiting for. But do any of them really care? So what if I never finish? There are thousands of other great books out there for them to read. I run my hands over the steering wheel, feeling like my reasons to live are pathetic and unconvincing.

I shouldn’
t have taken Snowball along with me. If she weren’t sitting in my passenger seat, I don’t think I would have any qualms about driving my car headfirst down the side of this mountain. It would put an end to all of my pain. It would erase all the despicable images from my mind. I wouldn’t have to struggle to make it across the state with eyes that aren’t capable of the task.

The sound of ringing causes my eyelids to flutter open, and only then do I discover that they have been closed. This scares me, because the world looks almost the same when my eyes are closed and open. I can’t even see Liam’s name flashing on the dashboard, but I know that he is the one calling. More tears slide down my cheeks, and for a moment, I wish that I could answer the phone and ask him to come and save me.

He probably would. My dad could cut him a check to make it worth his time.

A
vehicle drives by at a high speed, and the wind causes my car to shake. I realize that I’m in danger by even just sitting here on the side of the road. This is not a safe place to stop. If I got out of my car and tried to walk, that would be even more dangerous. I’m screwed. I’m stranded. The best I could manage to do is call for help, but I am too prideful to get a tow truck when there is nothing wrong with my car—and I worry that the police might give me a ticket for getting behind the wheel at all when there was something wrong with my eyes. I don’t want to talk to any strangers.

The only voice I want to hear is the one belonging to the man who is currently calling me. I want to hear his voice so desperately. I begin t
rying to rationalize it to myself. What if I died now? What if I died here on these slippery mountain roads? What if I died without ever getting to hear Liam’s voice one last time?

Before I can talk sense into myself, I reach out and
press the button on my steering wheel to answer his call. I don’t say anything. I just sit there with tears pouring down my face, and I listen to the silence on the line. The silence is deafening. It is the loudest silence I have ever heard.

“
Winter?” Liam says into the phone. “Hello? Are you there? God, Winter, please—say something. I’m going out of my mind. What the hell is going on? Where are you?”

I shut my eyes tightly, letting my head fall forward to rest against my steering wheel. I grab the sides of the steering wheel and grip it tightly in my fists, trying to prevent my
self from letting Liam hear how hard I am crying. I don’t want him to know how much he has destroyed me. I try to control my gasping breaths to keep from betraying myself.

“Please,” Liam begs into the phone, as his own voice breaks. “Winter, I love you so much. Please talk to me.
I—I don’t know what to do. I’ve been calling for hours. Please. I need you. I need you so badly. I just need to hear your voice.” I can hear that he is crying, and the sound of his pain amplifies my own. “Winter, please...”

The idea that he might actually love me causes my shoulders to shake violently as I am unable to repress my brutal sobs. I want to believe this so much, but I know it
can’t be true. I try to muffle my tears by pressing my face against my steering wheel.

A little yipp
ing sound alerts me to the fact that Snowball is excited to hear Liam’s voice. She sits up and moves back and forth in the passenger seat, with her little tail wagging. She has no idea that he has betrayed us.

“Snowball?” Liam says
softly. “Oh god, Snowball. Are you okay? Is Winter okay? Please, I just need to know that you’re both safe. I’ve been calling and calling...”

I reach up to run my fingers through my hair as I take a ragged breath. I hear a small whimper, and I am startled to find that it is coming from my own throat and not Snowball
’s. Hearing Liam’s voice is shredding my insides apart. Every syllable he speaks causes my anger to be replaced by the awareness of my love and need for him. I just want to throw my arms around him and beg him to make this day disappear and tell me it’s all going to be okay. I just want to be close to him again.