“You’ve got to be kidding me!” He spun and kicked a large plastic bucket across the room.
I yelped, shoulders to my ears, racing now to the exit. He wasn’t violent, but I wouldn’t stay and play witness to his pouting either. Thank God, Ripley was still up at my cabin. I could only imagine how she would react to such an immature display of temper.
“Where are you going? We aren’t done talking,” he called after me.
“We really are. You don’t need an audience for your tantrum.” I was proud of myself for concealing my nerves.
“You always have to go too far,” he spat.
It was enough to get me to stop in my tracks, spin on my heels, and spit right back, “Excuse me? Just because I have a spine!”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He stomped toward me, but this time, I held my ground.
Even now, I wasn’t actually afraid of him. I had once watched him carefully place each one of Ripley’s paws in a bootie even as she struggled. Despite his size, he was not a brute.
I couldn’t understand him, understand this rapid change in him. My arms flopped to my side in defeat. I wasn’t going to publish a story he explicitly told me not to. I wasjust so angry and helpless. “Don’t you want justice for your mother?”
He scoffed, eyes searching the ceiling for some answer. “Of course I fucking do! You don’t think this eats at me every single day? Why I couldn’t even go in that cabin for the last year? You think I chose this life of cowardice?”
“I-I don’t understand,” I said, feeling that I lost my footing the second I walked in here, like I was trying to walk up an ice-covered hill.
“I know you don’t, which is why I am telling you to leave it.” His words were more even-keeled, but the rage still pulsated out from him in his shoulders and clenched jaw.
“If you would only try to explain?—”
“Leave it.”
“But wouldn’t she want?—”
“No!” He tugged at his hair, eyes pinched tight. “It was her choice. Lily’s. I tried to get her to do something about the plagiarism. We all did.” He waved an arm toward the direction of town. “But she wouldn’t have a word of it. It was her choice to let him take her credit and run with it. She never tried to stop him. She didn’t care about the notoriety. More than that, it was her dying wish that I didn’t do anything posthumously. She never wanted to give him any of her energy. Her words.” He scoffed, and his jaw clenched on a tight smile. As the last wave of anger retreated, I could see now that all that was left was a desolate shore of sadness. “She swore the injustice didn’t matter. That she was happy. She still held this silly fucking idealism, even as she was wasting away from the illness that ate her from the inside out.”
He sharply turned his head away as his eyes glistened. My mouth parted in shock. His words restructured all the thoughts I had filed away.
“I’m so sorry,” I said softly.
His Adam’s apple bobbed on a loud, tight swallow. “He left when she got pregnant. He never cared about either of us. He took what he wanted, and he left.”
I slumped back, realization draining blood from me so fast I felt dizzy. My fingertips and lips tingled from the shock of his revelation. “I-I didn’t know.”
And a minute ago, I had assumed the worst of this man when all he’d done was help and protect me since the moment I arrived. What was wrong with me?
“Why couldn’t you just leave well enough alone? Why did I have to show you that fucking room?” His voice went soft, and his head dropped, looking so hurt and vulnerable.
“I will. I’ll stop. I’m sorry,” I repeated.
This was what happened when I didn’t have all the information. People got hurt.
He finally lifted his gaze to mine, raw sadness etched in every line of his features. “It’s my fault. I should have known what the curiosity would do to you. Pandora’s box and all that.”
I winced as he looked away. Because I was a machine that never knew when to stop. I was the bad guy in this story, well, one of them, picking at an almost healed scab until it was raw and bleeding again.
My apologies felt empty. I wanted to tell him that I thought Iwas helping, that this had all been a deep dive in some backward way to try to help him heal.
But had it?
Had this been about me, once again seeking out the truth under the guise of righteousness when, really, I just wanted to be the one who figured it out first and put the pieces together? Did I want justice, or did I want validation?
My head spun from the adrenaline rush of the argument and the day of anxiety leading up to the confrontation. I felt buzzy and weird and unsure of all the swirling things in my mind.
