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“Thank you, sweetheart, that means a lot. I know that you never really got on with your stepmom, but she was a good person and she had a good heart.”
“I know that you saw that in her,” I said carefully, because I didn’t want to badmouth her. “I’ll speak to you soon, Dad, and don’t forget to send me Paul’s number.”
I hung up the phone and waited for the text from my dad. He was quick and before I knew it, I was staring down at the number that I had been wanting for the last six years. I tried to calm my racing heart down as I considered the fact that I would soon be talking to Paul, but it wouldn’t listen.
I’d spent the last six years regretting how we had left things. I’d spent the last six years regretting never taking the chance to tell him how I really felt. It had all been too much at the beach. His declaration of love had been too much for my immature mind to process, but I’d had plenty of time to think things over, and I knew that if I could go back and do it again, I wouldn’t ever let Paul walk away from me.
I finally managed to crash my finger down onto the screen of my phone and I pulled it up to my ear as it started to ring. I started to get worried that he might not answer when I felt the seconds slipping past me, but just as I was about to give up and hang up, I heard a click that told me that we’d been connected.
“Hello?” Paul asked down the phone. His voice still sounded the same as it had six years ago, but there was a new depth to it that sounded almost sexy. I could tell that the awkward boy I’d grown up with was gone and that his success had cemented his worth into his ego.
“Paul, it’s Isabella,” I said in almost a whisper.
“Isabella?” Paul said, as though he couldn’t understand why I would ever find a reason to call.
“I hope you don’t mind that my dad gave me your number,” I started.
“Well, I would have preferred him to run it past me first, but I guess here we are anyway,” Paul said in a cold voice that carried a sharpness that was tearing against my emotions.
“Well, I’m sorry to bother you, anyway,” I said lightly. “I’m only calling because my father is in such a state and I didn’t think it was fair on him to have to do it.”
“Why, what’s happened?” Paul asked in an almost bored tone.
“It’s your mom. She’s been really ill, and although my dad did everything he could to ensure that she would get better, she didn’t. I’m so sorry, Paul, I know how you must be feeling,” I said, because I did. My mom had passed away when I was three years old, but it was something that still filled me with sadness.
“My mom’s gone?” Paul said, and his voice sounded softer than before.
“I’m so, so sorry, Paul. I’m getting in touch with the airport tonight and flying back as soon as I can. I just wanted you to know without delay, so that you can do the same, I guess.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Paul said in a distant voice that told me he’d become lost in his thoughts.
“I don’t think there is anything you can say. You just have to let the grief wash over you until its run its course. I just want you to know that I’m here, though. I mean, if you want to talk or cry or even just have a person to sit next to in silence, I’m here,” I said as my voice trailed off.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll manage,” Paul said in the same cold voice that he’d used with me before.
“It was just an offer,” I said as I tried to hide the hurt in my voice, but I knew that it could be heard with crystal clarity.
“Well, that was just me declining,” Paul said shortly.
“Right, well I’m going to go because you clearly don’t want to talk to me. I guess I’ll see you back at home when you get there?”
“Okay then, bye,” Paul said and then he hung up without anything further being said.
I looked down at the phone in my hands for a moment. I’d spent the last six years constructing conversations in my head with Paul, but none of them had ever gone like that. I’d always thought that, perhaps, Paul would be happy to hear from me. He’d be happy to hear that I’d finally come around and that I was willing to admit my feelings, but that hadn’t been the case at all. I’d spoken to my worst enemies with more love than he had just spoken to me, and that hurt me more than I ever thought it would.
I couldn’t sit around and feel sorry for myself, though. I knew that my dad needed me. I knew that when my mom passed away, he fell apart and it was only my stepmother that managed to put his broken pieces back together again. I guess I’d never really looked at it like that at the time, but now that she was gone, and I could feel my father shattering into a thousand jagged pieces, I could see it as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I called the airline and managed to book a flight for that night. It was due to get me back home by the early hours of the morning and I wasted no time in packing my things and leaving the damp, dark apartment that I had the blessing of calling home. I’d booked a cab to take me to the airport, and even though I’d set off in plenty of time, the traffic made sure that when I arrived, I had to run to my gate so that I didn’t miss final check in.
It wasn’t until I’d fastened my seatbelt on the plane and felt the wheels pulling us forward that I finally had a chance to process everything that had happened that day. My stepmom had passed away, my dad had become a broken man, and Paul, the man who I’d loved for years in silence, still had no interest in seeing the changes I had made to my own life and attitude.
The plane took off into the sky and I rested my head back against the chair. There was a magazine that had been shoved roughly into the pocket of the seat in front of me and I pulled it out and glanced at the cover. I snorted out loud when I realized that it was a picture of Paul smiling next to a bunch of gadgets that the headlines claimed he’d created.
********
Chapter Eight
It was a strange mixture between being far too late and ridiculously early when I arrived back at my old home. It hadn’t changed at all in t
he four years that I hadn’t paid it a visit. The driveway was still lined with yellow roses; the porch still had two orange flowerpots sitting on either side of the door, and even the air seemed to carry the same flowery, sweet scents mixed with chalk from the poorly conditioned soil we had.
I didn’t bother to knock. I just walked straight in. I blinked hard as I walked through the darkness. My father hadn’t left the hallway light on, but I could tell from the crack in the kitchen door that the light was on in there. I followed the thin slithers of light until I reached the door and then I pushed it open expecting to find my father in there, but he wasn’t.
“Oh,” I said when I took in Paul’s tall frame. He was sitting at the table in the seat he’d always picked. He didn’t look like the same Paul that I had known, though. He’d changed out his baggy sweatshirts and jeans for an expensive looking suit and his normally messy light hair was slicked back and looked as though it had been cut by a business professional.
“Your dad’s already gone to bed,” Paul said without looking at me.
“Right,” I said as I nodded my head and then blushed because I realized that he couldn’t see me nodding my head. “Do you want me to leave you in peace?” I asked him because, really, I wanted a hot drink and to sit down a while before I headed up to my room for the night.
“Since when has what I want ever mattered?” Paul asked, and he lifted his eyes from the bright screen that was sitting on the table and turned his head my way.
“Since now, I guess,” I said with a shrug.
“Do what you want, Isabella. I really couldn’t care less,” Paul said as he returned his focus back to the screen in front of him.
I turned on the coffee maker and waited for the gurgling noise to start before I realized that that was a unique feature to my coffee maker only. “Do you want one?” I asked Paul as I grabbed a mug out of the cupboard.
