Chapter 18

Maia glanced between the players of their self-made soap opera and the suffocating tension. “I’m just going to…go.”

Her mother’s departure shattered the spell. “Cam. Hey.” Tess tried to work past the shock of seeing him here. “What’s up?”

“I was going to drop off your present. I ran into your mother in the lobby,” Cameron said vaguely. His gaze slid to Adonis. “What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like? Helping your girl toy,” he said, annoyance intentionally lacing his tone. “Do what I said with the ice and take some ibuprofen. Hopefully your face won’t be too busted in the morning.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said, grateful for his brusqueness.

“Whatever. I’m out.” Shooting her an indecipherable look, Adonis took his leave. He passed by Cameron without exchanging a word.

She didn’t budge as Cameron deposited the gift bag and flowers on the island. His expression was flat, emotionless. “So. You and Adonis.”

“It’s not what you think,” Tess rushed to explain. “I took him to a metal concert and got elbowed in the face. He was just making sure I got home ok.”

“You took Adonis to a concert?”

“It’s not like you would’ve come with me,” she countered, her temper flaring at his sarcasm. “And what’s this about you telling him to stay away from me?”

He didn’t hesitate with an explanation. “I was doing you a favor.”

“How is that a favor? We’ve gotten past our differences. Hell, we might almost be friends. I thought you out of everyone would appreciate that.”

Fault lines rived his sangfroid. “So you think I should appreciate the fact that my best friends fucked behind my back and are now conjoined at the hip?”

Shame and anger set her cheeks to a furious boil. “I cannot believe you are still upset over that.” She marched toward him and clamped her arms around his waist. “For one, we weren’t even together then, so stop trying to hold that over me. Two, you’re the one I want, Cam. It’s always been you.”

His eyes hunted for some grain of truth within hers. Tess tried to relay her feelings. She cared for him. She truly did. He had to see that.

Slowly, he cupped her face. His thumbs stroked the line of her jaw. He bent down, his mouth touching hers. The gentle brush of lips hardly qualified as a kiss.

Tess clutched his face and opened her mouth to deepen the kiss. Her tongue worked against his frantically, desperately.

But Cameron remained largely unresponsive. He drew back. “Do you have feelings for him?”

A lie stuck in her throat. She wanted to tell him the truth. Her compassion had become meshed with something else. She could untangle it. They could work this out.

His hands fell to his sides. “That’s all I wanted to know.”

Panic rocked her. “Cameron, please.” She grappled for his arm, but he evaded her reach.

“Don’t Tess,” he said, suddenly enervated.

“Why won’t you listen to me? I love you,” she let slip.

The confession seemed to forestall his departure. Hope swept bountifully through her. His shoulders became rigid. “But I’m not the only one you’re in love with, am I?”

Her mouth worked without sound. How could she explain an attraction she barely understood? She couldn’t be in love with Adonis. It defied logic and good sense.

“That’s what I thought.” He recovered his overcoat and draped it over one arm. “Merry Christmas, Tess.”

Unshed tears cramped her vision. His name was poised on her tongue, but she knew there’d be no reeling him back.

It’d be ok. She’d call him tomorrow once he had time to cool down. Then everything would go back to normal.

Tess slumped to the floor. The throbbing at her temple had nothing on the violent campaign in her chest.

She could fix this. All she needed was a little time. This couldn’t be the end. Not after she’d fought so hard.

A cool hand swept across her forehead. Sniffling, Tess craned her neck. Her mother didn’t say a word as she joined her on the floor.

“He’s gone,” she prated vacantly. “I don’t think he’s coming back.”

“Tess, what did you do?”

“Why is it always me? Why do I always have to fuck up? I didn’t sabotage anything,” she spat, throwing the word back in her face.

Her mother didn’t address the dig. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Her fingers plunged into her hair as the truth spilled out: her one night stand with Adonis, getting together with Cameron, getting to know Adonis, her conflicted feelings about both of them.

“You have to choose.”

“But I love Cameron.”

“Just because you’re grateful to someone doesn’t mean you’re in love with.” Her mother hesitated. “Take your father for an example.”

Tess bristled. Her mother rarely spoke of the man who—in her opinion—was nothing more than a sperm donor.

“I was young and naive when I met him and looking for a way out. So when he helped me move to the city, I never questioned why he never stayed over, why we rarely went out, or why he refused to sign you or your brother’s birth certificates. The sun rose and set on him.”

“But he proved you wrong.”

“In the worst ways,” she said with a pinch of self-derision. “I had sense to follow him one day. When I found that he’d lied to me, I threatened to go to his wife.”

“And that’s when he moved his family across the country?”

“Not only that. He cut off me off financially. And suddenly I was left alone with two young children to support.” Her mother played with her hair. “What I’m trying to say is by exalting him, I began diminishing the value of myself. He was my savior. My everything.”

Her words sounded too familiar.

“I know I haven’t set a sterling example, but I’ve only wanted what’s best for you and Tony.” Her smile was wan. “You deserve more than what I’ve been able to offer.”

Tess hugged her mother. “You’ve done more than enough.”

“Being an adult doesn’t come with a how-to manual. You’ve got to learn to make the tough decisions and the necessary sacrifices. You have to do what’s best for you.”

Tess basked in her insight, the truth ringing so true it sang from her bones. “So what now?”

“Now, tell me which of those boys you’re in love with.”

A tight burble of hysterical laughter locked in her chest. “I don’t know.”

Maia squeezed her shoulder. “You’ll figure it our for yourself in time.”

“Maybe.” Tess fell quiet for a moment. “So when are you going to kick me out?”

“It was never about kicking you out. You’re nineteen years old, Tess. If something isn’t working for you, then do your own thing. You’ve always been good at that.”

Her head dropped against her mother’s shoulder. “Does this make us best friends?”

She smiled. “Maybe acquaintances. Baby steps.”

“I can live with that.”

__________________

Adonis checked his phone for the thousandth time.

She hadn’t returned his text. What the fuck had happened? Was she too busy opening presents? Reconciling with Cameron? Screwing him?

Nauseated, Adonis lit a cigarette and coughed when his sore throat rejected the harsh burn.

He pulled slower and exhaled over the balcony.

Snow-capped skyscrapers and ice-caked windows glared at him from every direction. The streets below were just as busy as any other morning, providing the illusion of an ordinary day.

For Adonis, Christmas morning was just like all the other three sixty four. Gifts from people he rarely heard from, access to a larger chunk of his inheritance, and maybe a chain of islands courtesy of his simpering father.

Lydia had come over the night before bearing gifts, another container of soup, tomato this time, sided with wedges of grilled cheese. For once, his half-sister benched her burning curiosity and didn’t ask about what happened between him and Tess the other night.

Not that there was anything to tell.

During her visit, Lydia seemed content to just chill in his company, partly on account of his scorn for the supposed season of joy and mostly to bring urgent tidings from his father since Adonis had blocked his number years ago. Apparently the old man wanted to meet with him today at noon.

Scrolling through his messages one last time, Adonis swallowed his meds and tossed back another cap full of cough syrup. He might was well get this over with.

When he arrived an hour and a half later, his father waited for him in his office. Lionel Benoit stood by the yawning, wide-mouthed fireplace. Behind the ornamental, black grate, the fire snacked hungrily on an oversized Yule log.

“What do you want?”

Lionel’s eyebrows shot up. “Merry Christmas to you too. Why don’t you take a seat?”

“I’ll stand thanks,” he said flatly.

“Is it so wrong of me to want to spend time with my only son during Christmas?”

“Last Christmas you were in Tahiti, the one before that Costa Rica, then Iceland. Any of that ring a bell? So cut the bullshit and tell me why you made me come all the way out here.”

The light in Lionel’s powder blue eyes dimmed. “You really do think the worst of me, don’t you?”

“You haven’t really given me a reason to think otherwise.”

“Indeed.” Lionel walked to a cherry finish table in the corner and lifted a Baccarat decanter of brandy. “How’s school coming? I trust you’ve stayed out of trouble thus far.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because if hadn’t been for me, you would be rotting in jail right now for the little stunt you pulled at Berkeley.”

He ignored the sharp stab of guilt. “Are you looking for gratitude? Because we both know you have my mother’s money to thank for that. Your family hasn’t been able to make it out of the seven figure bracket in decades.”

“Adonis, it isn’t about the money. You’re my son. I am genuinely concerned about you.” Lionel raised the snifter to his lips as he studied him. “Sometimes I wonder if you inherited any of my genes. You are Selene’s son through and through.”

Adonis clenched his teeth. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“It just concerns me. Your mother did hail from a screwy lot,” he said, his voice brushed with humor. His smile faded. “Actually that’s what I wanted to speak with you about.”

“If you say one more thing about her,” he said, vibrating with anger. “I swear, I’ll fucking gut you like the piece of shit you are.”

“No need to get violent,” Lionel said with sorrowful smile. “I loved Selene. I always have. Always will. But it’s been a long eleven years. And every year that goes by her chances of recovery decline.”

Adonis felt the anger leave him in one cold rush, as if he were the one being gutted and strung out to dry. “What are you saying?”

“Your mother’s coming off life support.”

Дата добавления: 2015-10-16