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I ignore Cherry. There’s not much I can do about her, and she’s not my main concern anyhow. I focus on Harley—a very angry Harley. I hold out my hand to him, trying to get him to come to me. I can’t explain why, but I don’t like that Cherry is so close to him. Something about her just seems off and if it’s because I’m jealous? So be it. I still want Harley away from her.
Harley stubbornly remains where he is. He takes a stilted step toward me. Cherry slyly puts her hand on his shoulder and he instantly stills. I clear my throat.
“Come here, Harley,” I urge him. I see the indecision war inside of him and my heart breaks for the little boy. Whatever is going on is truly hurting him. I have a bad feeling that Cherry is at the root of it all. I have the strongest urge to scratch her eyeballs out. I hold out hope he’ll come to me, but when he doesn’t, I have to close my eyes at the pain it brings me. I may not know exactly what I feel for Marcum, but I love Desi and Harley. I love them like they’re my own kids and having him turn me away while he’s hurting drives a knife through my heart.
“Were you leaving?” Harley asks and at first, I don’t understand, then I feel a sick flush move over my body as his words hit home.
“Harley,” I start, but he doesn’t let me finish.
“Were you running away from here? Are you the reason my dad almost got hurt?” he asks, and the anger and pain on his face makes him appear so much older than his years. He looks like a mini-adult standing there and that makes me sadder. Kids Harley’s age should be innocent of the world and the tricks adults play. Tricks I’m sure Cherry is using—even if I can’t prove it.
“I told him you wouldn’t, Toi! I told him you wouldn’t just leave us like that! I told him Cherry was lying!” Desi cries.
My gaze snaps to Cherry, who is frowning at Desi. It’s quickly replaced with a look that I suppose is meant to resemble regret—It doesn’t quite make it.
“He overheard me talking to my father. I didn’t know he was around,” she says, and I want to throttle her. Instead, I try and focus on Harley and Desi.
“It’s not that simple, Harley,” I begin.
“You were going to leave us?” Desi says with tears in her eyes and her lip quivering.
“I didn’t want to,” I start, hating everything about this.
“I told you, Desi. They all leave. No one wants to stay with us,” Harley argues. He pulls away from Cherry then and goes toward me, but it’s not to hold my hand or let me get near him. He wants his sister. “Let’s go.”
Desi looks up at me and my heart is breaking.
“Why did you want to leave us, Toi? Don’t you love us?” she asks. She slides off my lap and I want to hold onto her. I think about forcing her to stay, but I don’t. Something instinctively tells me that would be the wrong move.
“I didn’t want to leave, not really, babies,” I try to explain, but I start coughing because I’ve never been this emotional while trying to talk. The weakness shames me. Especially when Cherry is standing over there, looking close to gloating.
Can’t she see how this is tearing up the children? Couldn’t she try to help—for their sake?
“But you were,” Desi says, her little voice trembling as her body shakes with sobs she’s trying to hold back. “You told me you loved me…”
“I do love you, Desi! I love both of you.” I’m really stretching my voice now, but I need to try and reach them.
“We don’t love you,” Harley says, his voice stoic. “You’re nobody! We don’t want you here anymore!”
“That’s enough, Harley!” Marcum’s stern voice comes from the hall. He looks like he’s been in a physical fight and…he’s mad. Furiously mad. I can see it, but I wouldn’t have to. His anger is so powerful you can feel it in the room.
All of us jump, probably even Cherry, though I’m trying to pretend she’s not here, so I don’t look.
“I was just telling the truth!”
“You will treat Toi with respect and that’s final, son,” he says harshly.
“I won’t and you can’t make me. I hate her! Desi and I both hate her and we don’t want her here anymore!” he answers remaining stubborn. My heart feels like it’s breaking. He runs from the room and Marcum gives me a look I don’t quite know how to read, and then follows his son. Desi looks at me; she looks more than a little lost.
“I love you, Desi,” I whisper, and I feel my own tears now, but I try to hold them back.
