Uncorked (28 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Rohman

BOOK: Uncorked
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“Wow, this is some heavy stuff.
How do you feel?”

“Chella, I think I’ve gone
through about every emotional experience there is on the face of the earth. I
never thought I could go through such a myriad of emotions on one single
topic.”

“I guess that means you don’t
know what you’re going to do.”

“I have no clue. My feelings
change from one hour to the next.”

“I’m here if you need me.”

With a bit of a chuckle, he
replied, “Thank you, Chell. I almost forgot what a supportive girlfriend I have
in my corner. I’m so sorry I didn’t confide in you sooner. If I had, all this
pain I’ve put you through could have been avoided.”

He captured her face in his hands
and kissed her on the lips.

Slipping her arms around him, she
returned his kisses, at first gently then becoming more and more urgent.

“I’ve missed you,” he remarked,
trailing kisses on her cheeks and throat.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she
replied, returning his kisses fervently. “Maybe you should take a few days away
from everyone to think about it. I’ll be okay.”

“Sounds like a great idea. I’ll
go on one condition.”

“What’s that?” she asked
curiously.

“Come with me. I really miss you.
I want to spend some time alone with you, too. Furthermore, you’re a huge part
of my life, even though I might not have acted like it recently. I can’t make
this decision without your input.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure about
anything.”

“Count me in then.”

 

After a ninety-minute
plane ride, Mitch and Chella drove
through the rolling hills of Napa Valley.

With this new and unexpected
drama that had been forced into their lives, the trip seemed to be exactly what
they needed. Hundred-acre vineyards on gently sloping hills escorted them all
the way. The clean-scented air and the cool breezes sweeping through the
vehicle gave Chella goose bumps.

When they arrived at the hotel,
the sun was setting behind the mountains, overlooking what appeared to be
perfect rows of grape vines. Reflections of bright yellow and orange flooded
the hills and bird songs surrounded them. Mitch leaned on the hood of the car
and engulfed Chella in his muscular arms. They watched the brilliance of Mother
Nature unfold before their eyes.

Mitch had booked them a lovely
hotel room with beautiful views of the Napa River. After a shower, they
attended a wine and cheese party at a nearby winery. Mitch sampled his favorite
red Opus One and Chella tasted a few fruity white wines.

“Thank you so much for this,
Mitch,” Chella whispered.

“Sweetie, I had to do it for us.
We haven’t been spending quality time together. I think we both needed a change
of scenery.”

 

The next day,
Mitch and Chella went on a
thrilling hot air balloon ride over Napa, rode down a river in a canoe, took a
walk down to the jetty by the river and spoke about everything under the full
moon and stars of the night.

The following morning, Chella
ordered them breakfast before Mitch woke up. She set everything out on the
patio that overlooked the river. The crisp smell of the morning and the scent
of sausages, pancakes and croissants enveloped the air. She sensed Mitch behind
her in the doorway, and as she turned to look, his strong arms surrounded her.
Before she could say a word, he kissed her passionately.

“I’m really glad we came up here
this weekend,” said Chella. “It was great to get away.”

“Thanks for coming with me. I can
tell you’ve been thinking. Penny for your thoughts?”

“You. I’ve been thinking about
you and your predicament.”

“Me, too. I’m so indecisive. Any
ideas?”

“I think you should go see him.
Hear him out.”

“Why? So he can make excuses for
what he did?”

“It doesn’t necessarily mean that
you have to ever see him again after that or give him your bone marrow, but
start with a visit and see where things go from there.”

“I don’t know. I’m afraid of what
I might do to that man if I’m in the same room with him. Being in his presence
brought out a part of me I didn’t like the last time I saw him. I never thought
I was capable of killing a human being before I met that man.”

“You’re letting him have too much
power over you. It looks like someone doesn’t take his own advice,” she
replied, smiling at him.

“Maybe you’re right. We’ll see.”

“Do your sisters know everything?
Do they know about Liz and the rape?”

“Yes, they do. They say he is a
wonderful father to them. I’m assuming at some point they got over any negative
feelings they had, because they told me they’d do anything to keep their dad
alive.”

“Mitch, I’m so sorry.”

“A part of me wants to help them,
a part of me wants to punish him. And I hate to admit it, but a part of me is
curious. I see a devil in my head right now, but I want to see what they see.
They went through such lengths to talk to me.”

“It’s a decision only you can
make.”

“How do you feel about the bone
marrow transplant?”

“Whatever you choose, I will
support you. I want to make sure that it’s a safe procedure, you’re not putting
your life in danger and there aren’t any adverse effects. I want you to be
happy and healthy and safe. I want my boyfriend back in one piece. That’s all I
care about. If giving him your bone marrow will make you happy, that’s great.
If not, I’ll support you on that, too. The best advice I can give you is to let
your conscience be your guide.”

“You know what, Chell? I’ll take
your advice. Maybe we can go see my father tomorrow after we get back home?”

“We?”

“Yes, we. I’d like you to come
with me.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“I do, and there’s one other
thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You, for the rest of today, in
that bed.”

She giggled, threw her dress over
her head and jumped onto the bed. They spent the rest of the day there, leaving
only twice to answer the door when room service arrived at lunch and dinner.

 

After landing in
San Diego early Sunday morning,
they rented a car and headed to see Mitch’s father at his mountain home an hour
away. Lake Cuyamaca and the stunning mountain views greeted them. Hand in hand,
they made their way to the home’s entrance up a slight incline. A woman
answered the door, introducing herself as Theresa, Jude Waters’ wife. She
directed them to the end of a hallway where his father’s room was located.

The closer they came to the door,
the tighter Mitch held Chella’s hand. His pulse radiated through her hand,
indicating his nerves. At the room’s entrance, Mitch stopped.

He looked into Chella’s eyes but
said nothing. His eyes were now almost purely green, beautiful, but glassy,
filled with hurt, fear and the unknown.

She slipped her arms around him
in a supportive and warm embrace. He was vulnerable and for a minute, she felt
the urge to protect him. She knew this meeting had the power to heal or slice
open old wounds. Deep down, he needed to do this.

“It will be okay. You can do
this. I’m right here with you,” she reassured him, looking deep into his eyes.

 

Mitch clenched Chella’s
hands tighter. He entered the
room.

Jude Waters sat in a wheelchair
on the outdoor deck, gazing at the view. It appeared that he did not hear
Mitch’s knock, but the loud squeaking of the door got his attention.

They all stared at each other in silence.

Mitch expected to see some
semblance of the tall, robust man he remembered from almost twenty years ago,
but the man before him was frail. His hands—the same hands that had violated
his mother—looked weak, feeble, covered with flat spots under the skin from
bleeding, probably due to the cancer. It was hard to picture those very hands
doing any damage at this point in his life. The man could barely hold a glass
of water to his lips because his weak hands shook so terribly. The power Jude
Waters once had over his mother—over anyone—was gone.

“I came to hear you out,” Mitch
said coldly.

Chella tried to let his hand go,
turning to head to the door, but Mitch pulled her closer.

“Thank you for giving me a
chance. I wanted to say how sorry I am. I deeply apologize. I know my actions
have caused you a great deal of pain over the years. From the day this happened
I have tried every way I know to right this wrong. I was drunk. But I was
always in love—”

Mitch tensed. “I have no interest
in the gory details.”

“Alcohol played a big role. I
know it was my choice to drink, and it was my choice to violate your mother’s
trust, but the last thing I ever wanted to do is hurt your mother.”

“Then why did you?” Mitch banged
his hand on the nearby dresser.

Chella startled.

“Mitch, I’ve taken responsibility
for my actions. I was young, drunk and very, very stupid. I hate myself for
what I did to your mother. I caused her immeasurable pain, and I lost my best
friend in the process.”

“Growing up, I always wondered
why I didn’t have a dad. Why my mom never shared her life with another man. It
was because of you. You ruined her chances for a normal, happy life. Do you
have any idea how it feels to grow up and find out that you are the result of a
rape? Do you know how it feels to have a rapist’s blood running through my
veins? Do you have any inclination of the turmoil you have caused in my life?”

Mitch held Chella’s hand so
tight, it was now a deep shade of red.

“I apologize. Please believe me
when I tell you how sorry I am,” the elderly man replied, continuously sobbing,
his hands violently trembling. “I know I caused you and your mother incredible
pain. I want to fix it. I want to find a way to somehow repair the damage I
caused. Whatever you want me to do to prove to you I’m sorry, I will.”

 “You think it’s that simple? You
have no comprehension of the type of hurt and pain you caused my mother and me.
You can’t begin to understand. How do you explain to a five-year-old why he
doesn’t have a daddy, or why there was no dad around to take him camping or
fishing? For me to experience anything close to that, I had to go with my best
friend’s dad. But always, somewhere lurking in the back of my mind, it wasn’t
real. There’s no measure for that kind of pain.”

Not once did Mitch let Chella’s
hand go.

“How would you feel if someone
did that to your wife or Simone or Olivia? Would you tell them to forgive and
forget?”

“I’d be angry. And no, I don’t
know that I could forgive and forget.”

“Then why are you asking that of
me?”

“Because, Mitch, you are the
better man.” The elderly man broke into sobs. “I’d do anything to prove to you
how remorseful I am. I need you to forgive me so I can forgive myself. I’m so
sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

“I wish the one trait I could
have gotten from my mother was the ability to forgive and forget the way she
has, but I can’t.”

“I’m desperate. Please tell me
what I have to do,” the elderly man cried.

Mitch felt torn and sad. For a
split second, he felt sorry for him. This man who once had so much control over
his mother was now powerless, begging for forgiveness. Now Mitch was the one in
control, but he was determined not to follow the footsteps of his father and
use that power in a destructive way. Was he ready to forgive him and let it go?
Was he ready to save his life by giving him his bone marrow? No. But he wanted
to be sure he didn’t exploit that power, either.

“I’ve heard you out,” Mitch said
softly. “I have to go. I need time to think.”

“Thank you for coming.”

Mitch turned on his heels, still
holding Chella’s hand, and left the room.

In the hallway, Mitch excused
himself to the restroom.

 

Theresa approached Chella
as she waited for Mitch and
handed her a brown envelope. “I think you should have this.”

“What is it?” Chella asked.

“Feel free to have a look at it.”

Chella slipped it into her clutch
with the intention of opening it later. She wasn’t sure if Mitch could handle
anything else at that moment.

That was so intense. Please let
him be okay.

Once outside, Chella put her
supportive arms around Mitch for what seemed like an eternity. She could feel
the agony that emanated from him. Little by little, the anxiety dissipated from
his body. They returned to his penthouse after a silent drive.

“Can I get you anything? Anything
at all?” Chella asked. She so badly wanted to help him.

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