The Arrogant Architect (12 page)

“I told you I don’t want any more gifts,” I scold King as I
spot a small, rectangular box in his trunk. He puts the picnic basket inside
and closes the lid, then says, “Would you get in the damn car?”

I stand at my door, waiting for him to open it, feeling more
positive about the day than I realized I could. King has been great, keeping me
distracted, plus, he’s extra goofy today, so how could I not smile laughing at
his dumb ass? “In you go, my little sexy ass.”

“Gosh, what a nickname,” I respond, and he closes the door
in my face, walking around the car to the driver’s side, or should I
say…strutting around it in a way that only King can.

“Did you really slam the door in my face?”

“Yeah, I did. Keep it up with your mouth today, and I’ll be
fucking it while I drive.”

I laugh at his outburst, loving how distracting he’s being.
Then, as I sit back, I find myself imagining doing it, and it kinda turns me
on. “Don’t forget to call your dad,” he reminds me.

“I will…after we leave the cliffs.”

“Okay, baby.”

He wraps his hand around mine and says, “Did I tell you that
I’m being recognized in a few weeks?”

“No, for what? Best comedian in Rhode Island?” I tease him
and raise my eyebrows.

I can see the smirk on his face. “You better watch
yourself,” he warns me.

“Ooohhh, I’m scared,” I jive back.

“You know what, I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Good, I didn’t wanna know.”

He smiles at me and holds my hand. God, he’s been my rock
today. Every time I’m down or start to spiral into a bit of depression, he
lifts me up, and I’m not sure how I got so fucking lucky with his crazy ass…but
I did.

Thinking back on the past, each anniversary of my mom’s
passing I’ve spent in bed, barely able to get up and use the restroom. I never
dreamed I’d leave the house, much less be going to visit a place that she and I
loved. Closing my eyes as we make the trip to Newport, there is calmness that
lives inside of me, something I never imagined I’d have on the anniversary of
her passing and I owe it all to King.

King squeezes my hand waking me up as the entrance of the
cliffs comes into view and asks me, “Did you sleep?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Good, you feeling all right?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I tell him, feeling my mom’s arms around
me, guiding me through the motions, and with King by my side, if I slip, he’ll
pick me right up.

“Can I park anywhere?”

“Uh huh.” Once he shuts the car off, we both look around at
this spectacular place. Opening my door on my own, I get out, solidly planting
my feet on the ground. I lock eyes with the trailhead I used to walk with my
mom quite often.

King gets our lunch out of the back and grabs my hand. “Lead
the way, baby.” Striving forward with one foot in front of the other, I find
peace in the comfort of his company and being back here. But as we approach the
trailhead, I can remember pushing my mom’s wheelchair over the exact bump that
is taunting me to go over and I stop. My breathing shortening as I fight to
stay in control.

“What’s wrong?” King asks me, panicked.  

“I need a minute,” I tell him, swallowing back the tears,
but they wrestle their way through and embark out of me, rolling down my
cheeks. He holds me close to his chest. The sound of his beating heart and the
crashing waves bring me back to reality and far away from the memories that are
trying to tear me down.

Gazing up at him, his face is mixed with so much compassion
and worry. His arm is wound around my neck, keeping me close to him. Looking
into his gorgeous face, his eyes own me, the way they always have. “I love you,
Ever,” he whispers.

A feeling unlike any I’ve ever known fills me, taking over
from my head to my toes. And I know I have my answer from yesterday as the
completeness I’ve been searching for my entire life resonates deep within my
soul, and for the first time, I can honestly say the words and mean them, “I
love you too, King.”

He kisses me with his big soft lips, his arm still holding
on to me, then together, we continue on. Enjoying the journey of this walk.
Neither of us speaks; what more is there to say? We’ve said it all.

“What about over there?” King asks me pointing to a private
grassy area where we can picnic.

“It’s perfect.”

Walking up to it, I look out at the waves, the vast ocean is
such a magnificent beast. “Here,” he says, sitting down on a blanket.

I sit next to him and sneak a look into the basket. He slaps
my hand and I yank it away. “You stay out of there.”

I frown and look out at the view. “Bossy.”

King unpacks the picnic basket and lays out an array of
food. Looking down at it, my stomach growls – I’m hungry. Then he passes me a
shooter and I gladly open it, taking a bountiful gulp into my mouth.

“Thank you,” I tell him.

“Of course. I brought a few. I figured you could use them to
get you through the day.”

“Why are you so good to me?” I ask, reaching into the basket
for another shooter.

“Stay out of there,” he orders and I rip my hand back,
letting him pass me another one. “Because I kinda like you.”

I smirk and ask him, “Where did you get that basket
anyways?”

“It’s my aunt’s; I borrowed it.”

Resting my chin atop my knees, I slowly sip the alcohol,
fighting with my mind to stay in control. King puts a piece of cheese into my
mouth. Gladly I accept it and then he sits behind me, his long legs wrap around
mine, and he rests his chin on my shoulder, feeding me cheese, while we look
out at the view. The wind breezes through us and I say to him, “See that little
speck way out there?”

“Uh huh.”

“My mom said if she could have one wish it would be to live
on that island with me and my dad, forever.” I get emotional thinking about her
wish and how, no matter how much she wanted it, it could never come true.

“We should go there,” he says, “Visit it and see what it’s
like.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

“You’re freezing, baby,” he says rubbing his hands up and
down my arms.

“I’m fine. The alcohol has me warm.”

He kisses me and a chill comes over my body from his lips.
“Want me to run to the car and grab your sweater?”

“Nah.”

He keeps warming me and finally says, “I’ll be right back.”
He stands and jogs away. I watch him, enjoying how sexy he is, and finish my
shooter. Reaching into the basket for another, I grab something heavy. Lifting
the lid, I stare in and see a gift. Slyly, I lift the lid and peek at what’s
inside, and when its contents register in my brain, bile rises to the back of
my throat.

Terrified to proceed, but not able to stop, like a car
accident you can’t help but stare at, I take the stack of envelopes out of the
box that are wound together with a thin piece of string. The stack is huge, and
across the front of the top one reads,
My darling Everly
in my mom’s
handwriting. Thumbing through the letters, one after the next, they are all
from her. Horrified, I flip them over and a sticky note on the back one reads
marriage
,
and fanning through them all I see the numbers of my birthdays affixed to the
back. I lose my breath – these are all she left for me. Then, King’s feet
appear and I look up at him, completely betrayed and devastated that he would
do such a thing…does he not know me at all?

“Why?” I barely choke out the word, fighting through the
devastation that I thought I’d never feel again.

“I can explain,” he says and kneels in front of me, touching
me. I hit his hand away so hard mine stings.

“Don’t touch me,” I shout and he swallows, nodding rapidly.
“Tell me why?” I scream, needing to know his reasoning.

“I thought it would help you.”

“You took away the only lifeline that I had to my mother.
This was all I had left of her. How is betraying her final wishes going to help
me?”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers, still kneeling in the same
spot and he takes the letters from me, I’m so confused and upset that I let
them go. “I can give them back.”

“The fuck you can. What’s done is done, King. I thought you
knew me better than that.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.” I snatch the letters away, needing to have
control over them. His hand trembling as I take them back. “This was all I had
left of her.” Tears roll down my face. “This was all I had left to look forward
to every year on my birthday and you stole that away from me.”

“We can give them back.”

“Would you stop saying that?” I scream and get off the
ground, clenching the letters to my chest.

“Please, Ever, you have to know I didn’t think this would
upset you, or I never would have done it.”

“That’s the problem with you, King. You don’t fucking think.
You act like you know what’s best for the rest of the world, but you don’t.
You’re not God. You’re just a fucked up, rich asshole.”

He steps back, looking me in the eye, hurt by my words, but
not backing down to them. “But I love you, Ever.”

“No, you don’t, you love the thought of controlling me. I knew
from the moment I met you this would end badly, but I never thought you could
rip my heart out and ruin it in a way that was irreparable.”

He’s crying looking at me, and I walk off, holding on to the
letters, not sure where I’m going or what I’m going to do next, but knowing I
need to get away from him. “Where are you going?” he shouts, running after me.

“I don’t know, but far away from you.” I walk quickly, each
step hurts tremendously leaving him. I never thought he could cause me this
pain. Then he suddenly stops me and yanks me towards him.

“Stop fucking running from me,” he screams hysterically in
my face.

“Fuck you, King. I fucking hate you.” I yell so loud my
throat burns. Digging my fingernails into the letters so hard they bend back.

“You’re upset; you don’t mean that.”

I push him backwards hard and storm off, not sure where I am
headed, but I need to get away from him. I need a moment to think, to figure
this out. Walking towards the park entrance, I call my dad, thankful that King
is not following me. “Daddy,” I cry into the phone.

“Everly?” There’s clear concern written within his tone.
“What’s the matter?”

“Will you come and pick me up?”

“Of course, where are you?”

“The cliff walk, hurry.”

“I’ll be right there,” he hangs up and I’m grateful that the
cliffs are close to his house.

Sitting down on the side of the road, I remove the string
from the letters and count them. Each is labeled on the back,
24, 25, 26,
27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37.
Then the last three say,
restaurant,
baby, wedding
.

Fourteen more years of letters from her, and he took it
away. I’ll never be able to go back to the times when I felt like she was
sending them, as stupid as that sounds. I could read them all now…then what do
I have? Nothing but the realization that my mother is really fucking gone.
Resting my head against my knees, I grip the letters.

A car pulls up, and I gaze up, the sun blinding me. I assume
it’s my dad. Getting up, I’m so broken, everything inside of me hurts. Then,
when I see it’s King, anger engulfs me.

“Let me take you home,” he offers, getting out of the car.

“No,” I shout.

“Please, Ever.”

“Do you know how many letters there are here?” He shakes his
head. “There are fourteen more birthdays that I could’ve still had something to
look forward to, and you stole that all away from me. You betrayed her final
wishes.”

“Ever, what if you die tomorrow?” he asks, such a strange
and morbid question.

“Then I’m fucking dead. What sort of a question is that,
King?”

“I thought you would want to know what she had to say now,
that’s all.”

“You out of anyone should understand me, King.”

“I do, baby.”

“I’m not your fucking baby.”

My dad pulls up, slamming on his brakes, and hops out of the
car. “What’s going on?”

“Tell him, King, tell him what you did.”

King looks at me and shakes his head, then whispers, “I was
only trying to help you, Ever.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help, goddammit.”

“Calm down, Everly,” my dad says, walking up to me.

“Here, Dad, fourteen fuckin’ years’ worth of mom’s letters
this asshole took upon himself to get.” I outstretch my hand and my dad looks
at them like they are the plague. “He probably has yours too.”

My dad stares at the envelopes and then asks, “Is that
true?”

King nods. “Do you have mine?”

He pops open his trunk and hands my dad the small package
that was in there earlier. “Why would you do this?” he asks him.

“I thought it would help you both.”

“Stay the hell away from me and my daughter,” my dad barks
and gets into his car. I follow, not able to look at King as we drive away. My
dad has his hand wound tightly around his letters as he speeds down the road.

Immediately King starts to blow my phone up, obsessively
texting me and calling, and I turn it off. Needing space, time, to process all
of this.

Sitting out front of my dad’s house, no longer able to
listen to his sobs, I’m searching for clarity. He decided to open his letters,
which I told him I wanted no part of, and it crushed him. How could it not? I
couldn’t touch mine, once I set them down inside his home and decided that I
couldn’t betray my mom like that.

I haven’t seen or talked to King. Thank God, he took my
dad’s advice and has left me alone, but the pain of being without him and
processing the weight of what he did is so huge.

But we were never destined for great things; I think that we
both knew deep down. It was a fast and furious love. At least for me, he’ll
always be my first.          

Looking up at the moon as it caps the night sky, I wonder if
it’s past midnight, because I want to put this day behind me. That’s the only
way to move forward – knocking off one good day after the next is what I need
to do. When my mom left me six years ago, her last words to me were to “be
happy.” Closing my eyes, I can hear her saying them now.  

“Please, just hear me out,” King says, catching me off guard
and my eyes fly open at the sight of him stumbling drunk towards me. Glancing
around, I wonder how he got here, then I spot his car parked down the street.
He flops down in the front yard, and I shake my head, pissed off. Immediately,
I walk up to him and reach into his pockets.

“Where are your keys?” I ask him, knowing that if my dad
sees him, he’ll lose it.

“I love you, Ever,” he slurs, ignoring me and grabbing my
face.

“Give me your keys,” I snap at him and he digs in his
pocket, pulling them out and handing them to me. “Come on.” I bend over
reaching for his hand. He stands so unsteady and I help his large frame walk
the best I can.

“Where are we going?” he slurs, as we walk away from my
dad’s house and towards his car.

“I’m taking you home.”

“Will you stay the night with me?” he mumbles.

“No.”

“Please, baby, I’m so, so, so sorry.” He stops walking, and
I drag him along. Never seeing him drunk like this, now makes sense why he
doesn’t drink. He doesn’t handle his liquor well. Opening the door, I push him
inside. He can barely open his eyes, and I’m pissed that he drove here like
this. I lift his feet in and close his door. The car is parked halfway on the
curb, and as I roar the engine to life and try to adjust the seat, he says,
“You know how much I love you?”

I ignore him and he says, “I can give you your letter every
year.” His voice is so slurred and I look over at him as he struggles to keep
his eyes open.

Leaning over, I buckle him up and he begins to kiss my neck,
his lips on me automatically awakening my body, and I put my hand over his
mouth, knowing that I can’t let him, not after what he did. He kisses it and I
tell him, “Would you stop it? Please?”

“Please forgive me.”

“No, King.”

I buckle myself up and turn around, hoping my dad is asleep
by now and doesn’t notice I’m gone. “I’ll never do anything like that again.”

“It’s too late.”

“No, Ever.”

“Yes,” I shout and he asks me again, “Stay the night with
me, please.”

“Fine,” I lie to him, wanting him to shut up so the noises
in my head will quiet. He grabs my hand and I let him hold it. Quickly he falls
asleep, snoring loudly, and I have no clue what I am going to do with him. He’s
not going to make this easy to stay apart.

Making the long trip back to his house, the roads are
desolate. I hope he didn’t drive all the way here from his house. Maybe he was
at a bar or something all day. Regardless, I’m grateful he made it safely to my
dad’s. As pissed as I am at him, I don’t ever want anything to happen to him.

Finally, I pull up to his house and he is still asleep as
the gate automatically opens. I drive through it and creep down the long
driveway until I am parked in front of his home. At his front door I enter the
code he told me the first time I came, and it clicks unlocked and I leave it
open, going back to the car to help him out. Being as quiet as I can, I
unbuckle him, but the noise wakes him and he grabs my face, looking deep into
me. “You’re staying the night?” he asks again and I tell him, “Yes.” Hating to
lie.

Guiding him out of the car, I help his tripping body into
the house, kicking the door closed behind us. He sways back and forth leaning
on me and somehow we make it upstairs. Then he flops down on the bed, and
watching him, I can’t help but smile, thinking of all the times we shared. But
knowing that we will no longer have those times kills me inside. I’m going to
miss being together. We shared so many good memories. So I give in and enjoy
this, being with him one last time. Removing his shoes and pants, his body
entices me again, tempting me, and I fight the urge, reminding myself what he
took from me. Lifting the covers for him, he crawls under them and I remove my
dirty socks, sliding in next to him. The moment that I am in his arms, he pulls
my body close to his, nuzzling his face deep into my neck. I swallow back the
tears as I focus on the stark wall, not on the warmth or comfort of his body.

“I love you, Ever,” he mumbles and kisses me, as a sob rolls
out of me, rattling me to the core, not saying it back to him. I want to, but I
can’t. I can’t forget about what he’s done, or what he’s taken away from me. I
wish I could…but it’s not that easy.

Listening to the sound of his breathing, it quickly settles
as he descends into a deep sleep. Cautiously, I slip away, my heart breaking
with every inch I move farther from him. Standing at the foot of the bed, I
whisper, “I love you, too.” And then walk downstairs, to hide his keys and the
rest for his other cars that are hanging in the kitchen. I think of a good
place, so if he wakes he won’t find them. I decide putting them with the coffee
is perfect, knowing he’ll find them when he wakes up. Gently I place them all
into the filters, and silently slip out of his house and down the driveway. I
reach for my phone and power it back on calling a cab.

Going home, I need to be alone. My heart is broken right
now. I want to help my dad and be there for him, but who’s going to be there
for me? Sending him a text, I say,
I went home. I couldn’t sleep. I love
you.
  

He doesn’t respond and I hope that’s because he is sleeping
himself. Running my hands over my face, I push away the image of my mother’s
handwriting on all of those letters.

“That’ll be $10.75,” the cab driver says.

“Can I run inside and grab my wallet?” 

He nods at me in the reflection of the mirror and I rush
inside my apartment, using the spare key under the mat to enter and then grab a
twenty from my wallet.

As he drives away, I go back inside and lock the chain on my
door, in case King tries to show up. Exhausted, I walk to my room, and the
sight of his bag hurts and the scent of him still on my sheets causes me to
cry. Weeping as I breathe him in, I drift off, praying that maybe…this is all a
dream…