Crossing Lines: A gripping psychological thriller (Behind Closed Doors Book 3) (18 page)

“I'm just saying, this wasn't the life you wanted. I mean, in a way you sacrificed your life for Faith's wishes. If she hadn't asked you to take care of her children, who knows what might have happened between you and your wife?”

“Ex-wife,” I correct, and then pause to wonder when that had changed? Only a few days ago, I called Izzy “my wife.”

“That's my point exactly. You had everything.” She says it quietly. “Marriage, children, happily ever after, all within touching distance, and it was all ripped away by the secrets Faith revealed to you.”

“There was no one else for her to turn to.”

“Does that mean she should have turned to you? Put all of the responsibility on your shoulders? Turned your world upside down and make you realize that everything you knew about love, and family, and parenting, and… well, everything you’d learned… was from a woman who'd lied to you for your entire life?” I gasp and begin to argue in Faith’s defense, but she just goes on. “Not to mention everything you learned from this guy who was supposed to be an amazing husband and a wonderful father, but then Calvin turned out to be so not the guy you thought he was…”

I gasp again. I don’t want to listen to this anymore. She’s only going to stoke my temper and I can’t, simply
cannot
, lose it with Julia. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I did. So I hold up my hand, and turn away. “Don’t!”

“Darryl,” she quick-steps around the sand and into my path, “please! Hear me out!”

Even though I know she’ll see everything I’m trying to hide from the rest of the world, I force my gaze to meet with hers. For the first time in a very long time I feel raw, and exposed, and fearing that if she says the wrong thing she'll tip my temper over the edge. No one has made me feel this vulnerable—not since Calvin told me never to come home again, because I wasn’t welcome there.

“It doesn’t matter if you haven't taken to parenting like Faith did, and it doesn’t mean you're any more like Calvin because of it."

I freeze. I’m not even sure I’m breathing. She shouldn’t know this. She can’t possibly know my deepest secret and darkest fear; that I am
exactly
like him.

“You're too scared of what will happen if someone really pushes you to your limits, so you’re keeping everyone at a distance where they can’t push you, can't test you.”

“Julia, please.”

“You are. And I think you’re doing it because you’re afraid of being like Calvin.”

A shiver runs deep through my core. I can’t break away from her intense stare. She does know. My best friend of thirty plus years—my ex-wife—hadn't been able to see that. But Julia has seamlessly reached into that dark place deep inside, without even trying. She gets it. She gets me. I don’t know whether to be happy or petrified. She should not get me, not after only a week and a handful of conversations.

“Calvin might have been a lousy father, Darryl,” she continues, “and he was an awful husband and a horrific excuse for a human being. But Faith still believed in him enough to draw strength from what little support he did give her.”

“But she shouldn’t have had to go through that alone,” I cry out. “I should have been there for her. She was my sister and I should have protected her.”

“You were a child, Darryl.”

“I grew up, didn’t I?” I’m crying now. "I was twenty-eight by the time she told me the truth!”

“If I was in her shoes, I’d never have told Sean,” Julia argues, and my attention grabs on to that. "I get it, Darryl. She was desperate to run from Calvin, and when there wasn’t anyone else, she turned to you. But you’re confusing what she did then with what you're doing now, and they’re two completely separate things.”

“No, they aren’t.”

“Faith didn't have five children dropped into her lap. When your parents died, she had a husband who supported her, not some self-absorbed bitch too interested in her own life to see you weren’t yet dealing with your grief.”

“That’s not fair to Izzy.”

“I’m not interested in Izzy, D!” She brushes off my attempt to defend her. “What I’m saying is: there was only one practice when your parents died and Calvin took care of it. Faith stayed at home with the children. Can’t you see there’s a big difference between you and Faith? Or that you have no one supporting you now, because your wife deserted you when you needed her the most.”

“I wasn’t deserted.”

“I don’t care. If she loved you at all, she shouldn’t have left you in that position,” As she says this, it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I threw Izzy out, but I hold back again. “More importantly, Darryl, you're not Faith, and you're certainly not Calvin!”

For the longest time, I just look at her, wondering why I’m not angry. If anyone else, even Caleb, had said this to me, I’d have blown a blood vessel, along with my temper. But I'm not mad at Julia, or anyone else right now. Not even when I know she’s right. But I have to know how… “How do you know all of this?”

She frowns. “I don’t understand the question.”

“My life and its direction is down to the choices I have made, and the path I have taken. I’ve no right to feel resentful of Faith, nor have I the right to be angry at Isobel for leaving me. I’ve never told anyone I feel like this. Why do you know it?”

“Because…” She turns away from me, trying to hide the color rising in her cheeks as she admits, “I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

Wait… What?
I make every attempt possible to ignore the jolt those words are sending through me, but I feel like I’ve been plugged into a power socket. Every cell in my body lights up. I know she hasn't meant the words the way they sound to my ears, but… I smile anyway. I know, she’s in no shape or form attracted to me. But the way she blushes at this moment, I feel very smug right now, because that feeling is mutual.

“You know…” I lace my fingers with hers and sigh. “You’re just as easy to talk with.” I carelessly shrug, “I don’t think Sean, Ashleigh, or even Wayne give you the credit you deserve.”

She laughs and turns her gaze to the horizon. It seems like an age before she sighs and then speaks. “I don't think Lisa hates you, Darryl.” Her grip tightens around my hand as she looks at me. "I think she’s frightened. Her mom died, her dad died, and then her stepmom died too. Her life has taught her that the people who are supposed to care for her either die or they leave. She’s learned that from you as well, and is now doing the same thing you are. She’s pushing you away, so you can’t hurt her when you leave.”

As fast as a finger-snap, my joy evaporates and the grief swallows me like a tsunami. For a long time, I can’t find the words to speak. I just stare out across the sea, fighting the pain spreading across my chest, strong enough to blow my world apart.
If Lisa's still hurting, then I haven’t done my job at all.

I choke off the thick ball of emotion stuck in my throat, and deny the water gathering in my eyes.
If I’d let Cal keep everything he wanted, instead of taking back what was rightfully mine, maybe he would have let Faith live in peace. This is my fault. I’d brought this upon us. I didn’t listen to her when she asked me to leave him alone. So, I’m the reason she and John are both dead.

“You know you couldn’t have done anything different, Darryl!” I know Julia is smiling now; I can hear the admiration in her voice. But I haven't done anything to be admired for. “You're a fighter and a defender,” she continues, “like Ashleigh. But you have to realize that you could have moved heaven and earth to protect Faith in every way possible, and the outcome probably would have been the same. And I think deep down, you know why Lisa rebels against you.”

“Because she can.”

“Maybe leaving her with her step-brother is what you both need right now: a little space.”

If she was anyone else I'd be telling her she was wrong, that none of this was what Faith had wanted, but instead I just stare at the ocean. The gaping hole I’ve felt since I left New York without saying goodbye to Lisa has nothing to do with Faith's, or John's, last wishes, or the fact that I’ve let them down. I’m fooling myself to think so.

It’s about me, and what I want. Maybe Julia is right. Maybe losing sight of all possible reconciliation with Lisa is the wake-up call I need, to realize life is passing me by. I’m so busy trying to fulfill what Faith wanted and the dreams she had for me, that I've stopped living my own.

Okay, so what are they?
Given that my life has gone so far off course, what do I want now?

Of course, there are things I want for myself, like someone to grow old with. And if I’m really lucky, we might have children. And I want Calvin brought to justice, and Caitlyn and Zoe to come home, but I have little control over either of those. While Caleb seems fairly happy, I’d like for him to settle down, and Georgia too. But more than anything, I want Lisa to be happy. And like I do for Georgia and Caleb, I want her to reach for her wildest dreams and succeed at them. So maybe I should consider that school after all, the one that can make those dreams come true?

Julia tightens her grip on my hand. Even though she looks at me, I can't bear to look back. My mind spirals back toward that black hole, and those inner voices telling me she’s wrong. She’s wrong about everything, because I’m to blame and always have been, since I’m the catalyst that triggered Faith’s abuse in the first place. I’m the child Calvin never wanted.

My vision blurs. I choke back the tears, fight them, and then cough them away. I need to get control of the emotions storming inside before I look at anyone. But Julia’s soft fingers caress my cheek and send shivers through my skin as she turns my face to hers. With the other hand, she reaches up and trails the back of her hand over a rogue tear on my cheek.

As though she reads my mind, she whispers, “It. Is. Not. Your. Fault.” She holds my cheeks in her palms. “This is why I'd never tell Ashleigh, or Sean. They’d blame themselves. And you're not to blame. And Faith wasn't to blame.” Her gaze is as fierce as fire as she stares into my eyes. “Your only fault is that you believed the worst was over, and who could blame you? It was Calvin who’d made promises he couldn’t keep.”

Her eyes change slightly, as though she’s baring a piece of her soul, only for me to see and only because she’s speaking from experience. The therapist in me squeezes past my own self-absorption, and my reason for being here reasserts itself. I know that look. I recognize the expression. I’ve seen it countless times before. If she is ever going to tell me anything about her life with Wayne, it’s now.

“Julia?” I trace my palm over hers, cover her hand as she clings to my face. I keep her gaze fixed to mine. I’m not going to ask her to trust me, because it would be hypocritical of me to do so, and she shouldn't. I am going to ask her to give me what I've come all the way to L.A. for: the truth. “Why are you so sure that was Calvin's intention?”

She hesitates. “I… I don't know.” She whispers it, and it feels false to me.

I search her expression. It’s there. I can see the same faded spark reflected in Julia's eyes—the one Faith always had whenever she spoke about Calvin. Of course, she couldn't know it’s there. It’s invisible to those who've never seen it before. But it is there now, like she has a secret eating her from the inside. That dull light always made me wonder if Faith had told me everything, or if she still tried to protect me from the true horrors she'd lived through. I take a breath and begin. “Julia?”

“Please,” she shakes her head, “don't ask me to betray my husband, D.”

I close my eyes and choose between what Ashleigh wants, and what might be best for Julia. When I open them, I see her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Now isn’t the right time to talk, after all. Instead of pressuring her into talking to me, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her toward me. “You’ll never have to tell me anything you don't want to, Julia.”

Without resistance, she buries her head into my chest and begins to sob. “Darryl, I don’t want my baby to end up broken, like you.”

Chapter Twelve

I SHOULD FEEL INSULTED.
If she was anyone else, I would be. But as I sit here on the beach, holding Julia in one arm and stroking Luca with my other hand, I’m completely at ease with what she has said. I wouldn't want any kid to turn out like me, either.

Working with Julia is the hardest case I’ve ever been involved with. It’s pushed me to the very edge and made me question everything about who I am and where I came from. I'm no longer certain of anything I thought I was, only one week ago. The only thing I am certain of is that I won’t be able to make the breakthrough Ashleigh is looking for before I have to go home. Julia isn't ready to tell anyone anything. I suspect her breakdown has more to do with finally admitting to herself that something is wrong in her marriage, and maybe she’s only now realizing it has been wrong for a long time.

We stay for most of the night, talking about everything trivial and nothing deep or painful, until she drifts off to sleep. I scoop her into my arms and cross the sand. As Luca follows us I take the back entrance to the second floor. I know Sean is still here somewhere, but the house is silent. I walk the entire length of the corridor to the other side of the L-shaped house and into the door at the very end, into Julia's bedroom.

I’m struck by the amazing view she has from this room, but I don’t linger. I lay her on the bed, tuck a blanket around her, and turn away as Luca makes herself comfortable at the bottom of the bed.