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When she wasn’t with him, it felt like a piece of him was gone. He thought of her constantly and missed her painfully. When she was with him, his puzzle was complete. He felt unexplainably warm, happy, and satisfied, like all was right with the world.
He loved her voice, her laughter, the sound of her footsteps, how she breathed, her smell, the warmth of her body… just everything about her. Even when she was angry and scolding him, he couldn’t find it in him to dislike her.
If that wasn’t the definition of more than a friend-with-benefits, then he didn’t know what was.
Unfortunately, he had no idea what she thought of him. Maybe he was still just a sex-buddy to her, and revealing the true nature of his feelings might upset the balance in their current relationship. For now, it was best to just keep things light.
He erased the previous message then began to write again. The message he sent said, ‘Then invite Anika to eat with us. She can be our cover.’
Xolani texted back with several laughing emojis. ‘You want to use my friend as a meat shield? You’re awful.’
Grinning, he typed, ‘Hey, as long as she doesn’t know, what’s the harm?’
Xolani shot back, ‘She’ll know. Her IQ is off the charts. I prefer to just confess our intentions and make it up to her by buying her a very expensive lunch.’
‘Of course. My wallet is hers for the picking. So, what say you? Is that a yes?’
He waited for Xolani to text back, but instead, his phone rang. However, the number flashing on the screen wasn’t Xolani’s. It was a number he didn’t recognize.
Frowning, he swiped the answer button and pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Hello?” A female voice echoed over the line.
At first, Barry didn’t recognize the voice. But as soon as he did, the muscles in his stomach tightened with tension and a fist closed around his lungs. It became much, much harder to breathe, and talking was almost impossible.
“Barry, are you there?” The woman on the other end of the line called out.
“M- mom?” He hadn’t heard Victoria Hale’s voice in more than a decade. In that time, her voice had become grainier and a tad deeper. But still, he could remember it. It brought with it memories of his past.
He remembered how Victoria had always stood by and said nothing while her husband, Barry’s father, Patrick, beat her children like they were unwanted animals. He remembered how she’d always pulled the children aside to excuse Patrick’s actions and to tell them to stop being so disobedient.
He also remembered how she’d silently stood by when Patrick disowned him. She hadn’t sought Barry out during the six years between his disownment and his aunt’s death. But when his aunt died, she reappeared along with his father.
She sat quietly in Patrick’s truck, waiting for him while he screamed at their son and called him all kinds of demons. She hadn’t uttered even a word as Patrick demanded that Barry hand over his aunt’s house and possessions. Later, she’d called Barry, begging him to just hand over his inheritance to Patrick so their family could be at peace.
Barry said no, and that was the last time she talked to him.
She may have been Patrick’s victim, but she was also his accomplice.
Barry pulled in a deep, trembling breath to quiet the emotions that those memories brought. When he could speak, he coldly asked, “Why are you calling me?”
Victoria paused for quite a while before saying, “Your father died.”
The shock that raced through Barry was indescribable. He could’ve sworn that even his heart stopped beating. He’d dreamt of this moment many, many times, of hearing these very words. In all his dreams, it led to a party. There were fireworks, champagne, laughter, applause, singing, and dancing.
Yet now that it had happened, it felt like the bottom had fallen out of him. He couldn’t even describe the emotions that immediately overwhelmed him. All he could say was, “Oh!”
“He died on Sunday. Those quacks at the hospital said it was his heart, but we all know it was the devil.” Victoria continued, “Your father was a good man. He was a man of God and lived the word to his dying breath. The devil can’t stand good men like your father, so he killed him.”
Barry had so much to say about that ridiculous assertion. If there was a devil, then he wouldn’t be dumb enough to kill Patrick Hale. Why would he kill his most loyal henchman? If anything had killed Patrick, it would be the weight of his sins.
But still, he was dead.
Despite the unruly, indescribable emotions racing through him, Barry found his voice. “I’m sorry for the loss.”
“That’s a nice thing to say, Barry. Thank you.”
“How are you holding up?”
