I Speak...Love (A Different Road #3) (16 page)

Maddy’s beautiful, sleeping, naked body is face down on my bed next to me, covered loosely from the waist down by the sheet. Her gorgeous, long red hair is fanned out over her back, covering the tattoo on her left shoulder and upper back. Her eyelashes gently flutter on her cheekbones, as she peacefully sleeps. I prop myself up on my elbow next to her, then with my finger, I gently sweep her hair to the other side of her body, getting my first look at the entire tattoo. It’s a lot larger than I thought it was. I trace the pastel orchid petals on her shoulder with my finger, then move to the extremely detailed chameleon perched on a branch surrounded by lush green foliage. The colors are so rich and radiant, he almost looks like he could continue walking up her back. Maddy’s flesh pebbles under my touch, and she takes in a deep breath. My eyes slice to her face, and her now open eyes are fixed on mine. I look back at her tattoo, then trace the last orchid at her spine.

I don’t need to ask her the reason behind the tattoo. From the way she grew up, the representation speaks volumes. There were so many times she sat so quiet, deep in thought, it was almost as if I could read her thoughts that she wished she could be this chameleon and become completely invisible. She rolls over, then sits up taking the sheet with her. She wraps it around her chest and holds it tight in her hand. She raises her hand and gently strokes my cheek. I lean into her touch, knowing what I must do now. She gave me what I asked for without the slightest bit of hesitation. Now it’s my turn. I sit up needing to feel her lips on mine one last time. I lean in and slowly move my lips over hers. I don’t want the way I feel when I’m with her to ever end. As amazing as what we did was, and I’m an asshole for wanting it in the first place, I could never do it again unless she knows the truth about who I really am.

I’m a coward, a liar, a blackmailer, a murderer, as well as the fact that I destroy the lives of everyone I come into contact with.

I remove my lips from hers and run my thumb over her pouty lips one last time. I take her hand in mine and place it over my heart.

“Maddy, just like your camera is broken,” I start. Knowing full well it’s actually her that’s broken. “This . . . this is broken,” I whisper, firmly pressing her hand over my heart.

“Stephen,” she whispers as her eyes fill with tears.

“I need to tell you two things, two secrets that I’ve kept since I was fifteen years old. They’ve both been a heavy burden to carry, and I’m afraid that after you hear them, you’ll never look at me the same, but I need you to know both of them. I need to tell you the worse one first, the one that I can’t even bring myself to think about anymore because it physically makes me sick. I’ve never told anyone. I’ve never even said the words out loud. I need you to know what kind of person I am before I fall even deeper in lo . . . I need you to look at me, in my eyes as I tell you. Your eyes, they tell me everything you’re feeling without you ever saying a word. I need to see it. I need to see the second the light goes out and you want nothing more to do with me,” I finish.

Her eyes come to mine and like every single time I look into her eyes, they’re magnificent. Her thoughts travel at the speed of light, and they change color with every emotion she feels. They darken when she’s upset, or when she feels like she’s disappointed someone. Though rare, they brighten and sparkle when she’s happy. I’ve made her happy. I’ve seen it. Her head slowly nods, and her eyes never leave mine. I take a deep, shaky breath and prepare to lose the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

“Before I start, thank you for coming into my life and for not questioning last night, it was . . . perfect,” I say, then pause, knowing that what I’m about to say will destroy both of us. “I stopped telling people how I feel about them, both good and bad when I was fifteen. I said something horrible to my mother on the last day of her life, and I can’t ever take it back. I was angry at myself, and I took it out on her. I had just blackmailed my dad into letting me stay home by myself from our family vacation, then I called my mother a bitch instead of telling her how much I lo . . . I was young and stupid, and at the time, the party that I just had to go to was worth it. I didn’t care that I just devastated my mother. The second they left, I called my best friend Jay to come pick me up. He said he needed to wait until his parents left, and he’d be here in a few hours.

Jay never came to pick me up.

His parents left right after I hung up with him, but instead of him coming right over to get me, he quickly downed a six pack of beer, then he got behind the wheel of his car and got on the freeway to come get me. He lost control of his car and drove across the median into oncoming traffic. He never even stepped on the brakes as his car plowed into another car head on at full speed. The car he hit was the car my family was in.”

Like quick moving fog, Maddy’s eyes immediately darken to the darkest shade of green I’ve ever seen. A single tear rolls down her cheek as her brows furrow together in pain.

“Kate,” she whispers.

“Kate’s always blamed herself for the accident because she was the one who wanted to go to Legoland. She blames herself for our parent’s death and for River’s blindness, and all these years . . . I let her. I never told her it wasn’t her fault, but mine. I watched Kate struggle all her life, and I watched her from afar every time she tried to kill herself because my burden was too much for her to live with. Since the accident, Kate and River have had this connection that, in a sick and twisted way, I’m so damn jealous of. They lived through something together that I’ll never be able to understand because I wasn’t there in that car with my family, where I should have been.”

I stop and look deep into Maddy’s eyes to see how far gone she is. I hate myself for what I’ve done. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t hate me too. Kate is her best friend, and I’ve just told her I’m the reason Kate’s lived the way she has. Looking in Maddy’s eyes is like watching the birth of a cumulus cloud in fast forward. But suddenly, like most clouds do, they clear, and the sun comes out. Her eyes brighten and again fill with tears.

“Stephen, that car accident wasn’t your fault either,” she whispers.

The vice that has my heart in a death grip loosens and I can suddenly breathe. Then slowly it feels like someone is shoving a samurai sword in my left eye as a headache moves in. I close my eyes and try not to squint my left eye as a wave of nausea washes over me. These are just some of the symptoms of why I don’t ever let myself think about these things. No matter what anyone says, the truth of it is, it is my fault, and I get physically sick every time I think about it.

“It was and I’m a coward for not telling my family the truth.”

Maddy’s hand gently touches the side of my face, relaxing the strained expression on my brow. I open my eyes and look into hers.

“Honey, in one day, you lost both of your parents and your best friend. It changed River and Kate forever, but it also changed you. You were a kid, just a teenager. It wasn’t your fault. You may not want to hear this, but I’ll tell you what River told Kate. You didn’t put the alcohol to the lips of your best friend or force him to get behind the wheel of a car. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know he was drinking.”

“I should have known. We planned on getting totally wasted at the party,” I tell her.

I should have known.

I can never take back the disappointed look on my father’s face.

I can never take back what I said to my mother.

I can never take back Kate’s suicide attempts.

I can never take back River’s blindness.

Maddy moves toward me, dropping the sheet in the process, then she wraps her arms around my back. I tighten my arms around her warm, naked body pressing her against my chest. I take deep breaths, trying to control the flood of emotions running through me. Between Maddy in my arms and the fact that I’ve finally said the cold, disturbing truth out loud, I can’t control it. A tear runs down my cheek. Maddy squeezes me tighter, then she sits on my lap, wrapping her legs around my waist. I grab fistfuls of her hair in my hands and hang on to her as hard as I can. Her hands gently run through my hair as her lips sweetly brush over my temple.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she whispers in my ear.

If only that were true.

“There’s more,” I whisper in a pained breath.

“Tell me,” she says still holding me tight.

“In the beginning, my dad wouldn’t let me stay home by myself. A few weeks earlier, I had been in his office, and I came across some of his personal papers. I had a hard time processing them, but before I put them back, I stole one of the pieces of paper. Before I came to him to ask him to let me stay home, I was prepared to use it against him. I had never done anything like that before, and I still don’t know where the idea came from. After he said no, I took the piece of paper out of my pocket, and I slid it across his desk. Instantly, I knew it was a huge mistake, and I wanted to take it back. God, I wanted to take it back so bad. He took one look at it, then I watched as all of his trust for me drained from his face. He put the piece of paper back in his desk drawer without saying another word to me, then he got up and told my mother I was staying home.”

“I don’t understand. It was just a piece of paper. What was the paper?” Maddy asks, squeezing me tighter.

I take a deep breath . . .

“It was Kate’s adoption paperwork,” I whisper. “I came across photos of her as an infant that I had never seen before, then I found the death certificate for the baby my mother had given birth to. They told us Kate and my mom needed to stay in the hospital for a little while after she was born, and that we couldn’t visit them. When in reality my mother was staying in a hotel, paralyzed with grief and depression over the loss of their baby daughter, our sister. I don’t know how my dad did it, but in a matter of days, he arranged the adoption of Kate, then they both passed her off as the baby my mother had given birth to. No one else knows the truth and to this day, Kate doesn’t know she’s adopted. After the accident, I knew what I had to do. I had no choice but to keep my parents’ secret for them no matter what the consequences. Still to this day, locked in the exact same drawer are my sister’s adoption records.”

I hadn’t realized it, but the second I said it was Kate’s adoption papers, Maddy’s arms loosened around me. The more I said, the less Maddy was touching me. Now her arms aren’t even around me, and she’s backed completely away from me. Her mouth is open in shock, and her dark eyes are riddled with something I can’t place, but look similar to the look my dad had on his face the day I blackmailed him and lost all of his trust. With her eyes still glued to mine, she blindly reaches down to the mattress, grips the sheet in her hand, then she tightly covers herself up.

“Why would you tell me that?” she says in a barely there hoarse whisper, then for the first time since I asked her not to, she looks away from me.

“Maddy?” I question shocked.

Her eyes again fill and ripple with unshed tears.

“Kate’s my best friend . . .”

“Maddy,” I plead, as she gets off the bed.

Immediately, I know I’ve lost her and the best thing that’s ever happened to me is gone. I have no one to blame but myself.

“How am I supposed to look at her now that I know this?”

She searches for her clothes, then she slips her shorts on and pulls her arms through her shirt. She buttons a few buttons, then she grabs her panties and bra off the floor and runs out of the room. I quickly slip on my jeans and run after her. I shout her name as she bounces quickly down the steps without ever looking back.

“Maddy!” I shout from the top of the stairs.

My heart is pounding a mile a minute, and I’m desperately fighting the urge to throw up. Maddy reaches the front door, but comes to an abrupt stop. With her hand on the door handle, her head tips downward as her shoulders heave with every distraught breath she takes. Her other hand presses against the doorframe, then she raises it to her cheek and wipes away the tears. She turns the handle, then quickly runs out of the house, leaving the front door wide open. I slowly walk down the stairs and take a seat on the second to last step. Unable to hold it any longer, I bend forward and violently throw up on the floor between my feet. I stare at the vomit splashed on my bare feet and on the marble floor, knowing this is exactly how I knew things would end up. I get up, then walk into the kitchen to get paper towels so I can clean up my mess. If only it were that easy to clean up the mess I’ve made of my life.