Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

Sabella

The mug of tea I'm cradling between my palms where I'm sitting on the veranda doesn't warm me. Neither does the blanket covering my legs. I showered and changed into a cashmere sweater and sweatpants, but the heat burning on my skin doesn't come from my clothes. It comes from shame. Inside, I'm frozen.

Mattie exits from the lounge, wearing a black wool dress that shows off her round belly. How does she manage to look so classy and unruffled in the midst of everything that's happening?

She walks over and sits down next to me. "Hey."

I scoot to the side to make space for her and offer her half of the blanket.

"Thanks." She draws the blanket over her knees and heaves a sigh as she looks toward the sunset. "It's pretty, isn't it?"

Even though I haven't noticed the view, I nod. I'm not out here to admire the rose-gold reflection of the sun on the water as it sinks like an orange ball below the horizon. I'm hiding from what I did and from the despicable person those actions make me.

"The police closed the investigation," she says. "The pathologist released his body. At least now we can set a date for the funeral."

I look at her quickly. "They did?"

"They concluded that the strain of Dad's affair and keeping his other family hidden from us and the world was a very likely motive for suicide. I suppose it helps that the police are understaffed and that the high crime rate keeps them busy." Her expression is grim. "The media is already running headlines that living a double life finally took its toll."

Feeling sick, I stare at her in horror. "How did the affair leak out? From Dickson's office?"

She sighs again. "Laura Remington came clean. She told her story in an exclusive media interview."

"What? When did this happen?"

"She went straight to a local newspaper after the reading of the will. It's breaking news. I wanted to tell you before you saw it on social media or on television."

"Oh my God." I set my mug on the table. "Why would she do such a thing? I don't expect her to give a damn about us, but why ruin whatever dignity Dad had left when she claimed to have loved him so much? And why would she expose herself and her daughter to public scrutiny?"

"She told the journalist the same thing she told us, that she has nothing to be ashamed of. She said she respected Dad's wishes while he was alive, but now that he's dead, she wants recognition for Daisy who grew up under exceptionally difficult circumstances."

"Whose fault was that?" I cry out. "Didn't Laura consider the hardships of being a part-time single mother before she decided to have a child with a married man?"

Mattie wipes a hand over her brow. "Laura is evoking sympathy by telling the country how Daisy was teased in school for not having a father. She's using the bullying card. She wants the world to recognize Daisy as Ben Edwards's daughter and not just another bastard child."

My chest squeezes. No child is a bastard. No child should have to grow up with a part-time father.

Mattie sounds tired. "According to Ryan's PR agency, fifty percent of the viewers and readers are sympathizing with Laura and Daisy."

Hollowness settles in my stomach. "They're choosing sides?"

"How can they not? People are judgmental by nature. Very few are going to sit on the fence about the scoop."

"Shit. This is terrible. How's Mom?"

"Strong. Brave. Holding her head high and keeping up appearances. What choice does she have?"

Pulling the blanket up to our waists, I say, "I wish there was a way of making this easier for her."

"That's what I came to talk to you about. We're going to be bombarded by the media for the next few weeks, at least until the sensation wears off. Our family should have an aligned strategy on how to deal with the scandal. We decided that our response will be no response. It's the quickest way to put out the fire."

"No comment," I muse.

"Exactly. The funeral can be as early as Friday. The sooner we put this behind us, the sooner Mom can move on."

I steal a glance at my sister. Like Mom, her make-up and hair are perfect, but the strain shows in the tight set of her mouth and the dark circles under her eyes.

Putting an arm around her, I hug her against me. "You shouldn't have to deal with this in your condition. Let me take over. I'm on break until July anyway. What else am I going to do while hiding from the media?"

"Not hiding." She pulls her back straight. "An Edwards never hides. We just don't engage. We won't throw them a bone to fight over."

"Right."

She leans her head against mine. "Thank you for the offer anyway. I'm good at organizing, and Mom needs this. If she doesn't keep busy, she'll probably have a meltdown."

"What if she melts down after all the arrangements are done? Aren't we just prolonging the inevitable?"

"Then we'll be there for her. At least prolonging a breakdown will help her to maintain her dignity while the media dissects her every move."

A beat of silence passes before I ask carefully, "What do you think about them?"

The set of her features hardens. "Laura and Daisy? No matter how Laura justifies her affair with Dad, what Laura and Dad did was wrong. Dad married Mom, didn't he? He chose Mom before he met Laura. If he fell out of love with Mom and divorced her before getting together with Laura, I would've understood. But keeping a second family in secret? What they did to us is inexcusable. The worst is leaving us to deal with this alone."

My chest tightens painfully. "Dad didn't die on purpose."

"No, but everyone dies. He knew his relationship with Laura would inevitably be exposed. He even constructed his will in that manner. Letting us find out like that…" She swallows. "Letting us handle the aftermath of his infidelity? I'll never forgive him for that cruelty."

"What Dad did is wrong, but Daisy is our half-sister."

Her words are harsh. "I have no interest in getting to know her. Even if I did, I'd never do that to Mom. Can you imagine how that would make her feel?"

Rubbing her arm, I say, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry this is happening when you're only supposed to feel the joy of being pregnant with your first baby."

"Oh, Bella." She lifts her head and gives me a soft smile. "I know this is harder on you. Of all of us, you and Dad were the closest. You were always his favorite."

"That was wrong too. Parents shouldn't have favorites."

"Sometimes, they do. The two of you were accomplices, so similar in your likes and behavior." She pats my hand where it lies on top of the blanket. "Besides, I've always been Mom's favorite."

Biting my lip, I stare at the distance. The sun has sunk below the ocean, leaving streaks of pink across the sky. "I don't know which parts of what I had with Dad weren't fake. Sometimes, I wonder if anything was real. I didn't even truly know him. That's the hardest part." I swallow back tears. "That I don't know. That now, I never will."

"Don't think like that." She nudges me. "His love for you was always real. That's what you have to remember."

Taking a shaky breath, I consider that. The problem is that his lies make me doubt his affection. Is that how someone who loves you behave? Then again, who am I to judge? After what I did to my family by falling for Angelo, I don't have the right to criticize anyone's behavior.

Someone raps on the glass of the sliding door. Mattie and I turn our faces in that direction. Mrs. Taylor and Colin stand on the threshold.

Mrs. Taylor wears a sympathetic expression. "Doris said we'd find you here." She holds out a basket with wine, fruit, and biltong. "I brought some nibbles to see you through between meals. I also wanted to ask if you need help with anything, maybe with the catering for the funeral?"

Mattie moves the blanket aside and stands. "That's very kind of you, Mrs. Taylor." She takes the basket. "Mom will be happy to see you." Leading Mrs. Taylor into the house, she asks, "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Colin walks over, his hands shoved in his pockets. "I'm sorry. We should be offering to make you a cup of tea."

I try to smile, motioning at my untouched tea on the table. "I already have one."

"Care for some company?" he asks with a compassionate smile.

"Sure."

He sits down next to me. "I saw the news."

"Yeah. Quite the scandal."

"I hate that you're going through this."

"Thanks." What else can I say?

"I just want you to know that I'm here for you, Bella, and that I'll never judge you, no matter what happens."

"I know." Shifting closer, I borrow some of his warmth. "What would I do without you?"

He shivers. "It's cold out here."

I shrug. "I needed some space."

"From people? I can go if?—"

"From me."

He catches my chin and turns my face to him. "You're not blaming yourself for any of what happened?"

Pulling free, I jump up and escape to the garden.

Colin's steps crunch on the gravel path behind me. "Bella?"

The breeze blows my hair into my face. "Maybe I am." I drag my hands over my hair and grab the strands in a ponytail at the base of my neck. "I should've realized what Dad was up to. There were signs. Many signs. Like at Brad's name giving party. Dad was talking to someone on the phone, and he cut the call short when I approached. Come to think of it, he did that often. He was in such a rush to get back to George from Cape Town, he couldn't even enjoy the family gathering. He couldn't make the time to take me to the aquarium. When he got here, he left straight away. He dropped us off, and after seeing us home safely, he left to spend time with them, his other family. I should've realized then, but I didn't. I should've realized at Ryan's birthday and at all the other gatherings where my dad was distant and more on his phone than with us."

Colin grips my shoulder and turns me around. "It wasn't your duty to question your father or to mistrust his motives. It wasn't your duty to uncover the truth. The obligation to be honest was your father's alone."

If only he knew. "I'm not a good person, Colin."

He pulls me into a hug. "Nobody is perfect. Don't be so hard on yourself. The best thing for you right now is a good dose of self-love."

I wish I could tell him what happened in the cave. I wish I could confide in someone. I want to open my mouth and let this storm out of my chest, but not even the psychiatrist can know what truly happened.

Mattie was right when she said I'm just like Dad. Am I not keeping secrets from the world too, secrets that will destroy my family if they find out? How will Mom and Mattie and Ryan react if they know I slept with Angelo in a drunken state on my eighteenth birthday and worse, after his father killed mine? They'll see me for the pathetic traitor I am.

"Come on." Colin releases me. "Let's go inside where it's warmer."

He makes his way back to the house. I hover on the edge of the lawn, reluctant to abandon the freedom of the open space for the prison of the house. At least I can breathe here.

My gaze is drawn to the cave on the beach. The man who stands at the edge of the water makes a gasp catch in my throat. He's too tall, too large, too present. Too deeply under my skin.

He stands with a proud stance, his hands shoved in his pockets. He's nothing but a black outline in the dusk. However, when I rest my gaze on the shadow of his face, I can swear he's staring straight back at me. When he turns and strides toward the lagoon, I sense his smile. The worst? After everything he's done, as he walks away, he takes a piece of me with him.