Chapter 21

Twenty-One

MARISSA

It’s the last two weeks before finals, and Xavier has disappeared. Not ghosted me, but whenever I text or call him, he’s either “busy studying,” “tied up with fraternity stuff,” or “helping my father.” In good news, he always ends with “I love you.”

Having enough of not seeing him, I drive over to the Theta Rho Zeta manor, but the security guard at the gate won’t let me pass, saying Xavier isn’t home. He usually lets me in without question. I’d spent so much time there now, it feels like I’m a stranger in what was becoming my own home. When I try to text him to see where he is, I get:

Xavier

Sorry, working with Dad at the office.

Me

Will I get to see you later?

Xavier

I have to study for that econ final.

Me

I miss you.

Xavier

ILY

The rest of the week, I busy myself finishing up my photography project for the semester. I’m finally satisfied with my work, and so is Gretchen when I show it to her during our advisor meeting. Even my therapist is impressed, saying the work is helping me heal. And it is. The collection is featured in the halls outside our art studio for the first time and several professors make positive comments underneath the most prominent piece, my self-portrait.

“Outstanding look at what’s within.” [Gretchen left this comment.]

“Lightness fooling us with its brilliance; darkness undermining in shadows beneath. Excellent work.”

“This was no Choice. This was assuredness of a well-performed project.”

A buyer from the gallery approached Lorraine. One of my portraits sells for enough to allow me to buy some expensive lenses I have been eyeing. I’m ecstatic, but the guard at the TRZ station says Xavier isn’t there when I visit to tell him. When I call, his voicemail answers. I text him instead.

Me

Hey, there was a buyer for one of my portraits from the gallery.

Me

Are you coming to family dinner tonight?

Xavier

That’s amazing, kitten. Can’t. Helping Levi. Sry. ILY

Feeling sorry for myself, I head home to tell my parents the good news. My father’s car isn’t in the drive when I pull in.

“Mom!” I call out as I enter the front door.

From the kitchen, she answers, “In here!” Sitting at the island, she sips some tea while flipping through a magazine. “Hey! It’s not Wednesday. What’s going on?”

“Remember my pieces at the gallery? Lorraine told me that someone bought one of my portraits. The old one by the stream in the park.”

“Oh my god. Marissa!” Jumping off her stool, my mother embraces me. As she holds me back by the shoulders, her eyes fill with prideful tears. “I always knew you’d be a famous artist from that very first picture you took.”

Rolling my eyes, I scoff. “That was with some disposable camera in third grade.”

“I told you. I knew it. Even then.” She slides over to the kettle and grabs a mug. “Want some tea?”

“Thanks, Mom. Yeah, I’ll have some.” Perching on a bar stool, I try to ignore the nagging sadness inside that my boyfriend isn’t here to share the news.

“Well, I’m going to buy a cake right now so we can celebrate tonight. Is Xavier coming?”

Grimacing, I come up with some excuse for him. “No, he couldn’t make it. Finals.”

Handing me a warm mug, she skirts toward the mudroom to grab her purse. “He’s so dedicated. He’s going to make such a great CEO of that company.” Throwing her coat on, she stops on her way through the open back door. “Oh, by the way, Marissa. I received the Cardell’s holiday party invitation. We’re really stepping up in the world,” she jokes, eyebrows waving up and down. “Millie Cardell herself called me to invite us, too!”

Scrunching my brow, I say, “Oh, that was nice. How’d she get your number?”

She shrugs. “Guess Xavi gave it to her.”

“Xavi has your number?” Reluctantly, I use my mother’s pet name for him.

“Yeah. I figured if you two are this serious, I’d need to get in touch with you sometimes. Anyway, Millie seems so nice. We discussed you two. Both of us are excited to see what your future holds.” Her face lights up with expectation.

“We’ll see.” Lately, it doesn’t seem like we have any future together. Xavier hasn’t let me out of his sight since we first hooked up on Red Night. Now, he’s fading faster from my life than my dark-washed jeans.

I rummage through the fridge to find a chicken casserole my mom had prepared and put it into the oven for dinner. Taking my time and trying to avoid thinking about my doomed love life, I pull out flour and start making half-hour dinner rolls. Keeping my hands busy helps keep my mind calm, especially once I flip on some music.

When my father arrives, Mom’s still at the store. “Hey! You came for family dinner!” I exclaim as I hear him enter.

Walking into the kitchen, he presses a kiss to my temple while I roll the dough balls, placing them in a pan to bake. I point to a towel, and he hands it to me so I can wipe my hands.

“Of course! I heard you’re a big-named artist now.” My parents visited Artayo when my collection was displayed a few months ago. Giving me a side hug, he says, “I’m so proud of you. Where’s Xavier? He not coming tonight?”

My father and Xavier still haven’t talked since Thanksgiving. At least, not that I know of. “No, he’s busy tonight… I actually came to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, pumpkin. What’s up?”

Finally shedding his work bag, he sits at the island and watches me expectantly. Crossing my arms, I say, “Dad, I have to know. Please, be honest with me. What happened with Xavier? Thanksgiving, the night you met… Something is going on with you two.”

He looks at the ceiling, eyes squinting. “As I said, I don’t think he’s the right man for you.”

“Dad, please. There is something else going on! Xavier’s avoiding me. You’re avoiding looking at me.” Placing my hand on top of his, I lean over the counter to get his attention. “Dad, I love him. He hasn’t been around, and I miss him. Xavier’s going to be in my life now, and I want you to get along.”

Sighing, he says quietly, “Maybe it’s best that you haven’t been spending as much time together.”

Fury flushes my cheeks as I back up. “You’re really not going to tell me.” His light brown eyes stare at me a moment, not giving anything away. “Fine, I’ll figure it out myself.” Storming out of the kitchen, I hurry to the stairs while he tells me to wait. I’m not waiting anymore. Springing up the stairs two at a time, I throw open the door to my old bedroom, then slam it shut and lock it.

Xavier must have found something in my old diaries, something he and my father have in common. Their argument seemed to have to do with my father and me. Xavier asked Elle about my father’s name a few years ago. I have to find their connection.

My journals are labeled by school grade and sparsely filled with entries. I was terrible about keeping up with them through the years. The only scribbled lines were when I had overwhelming emotions I needed to deal with. I’m sure it was easy for Xavier to pick out significant events in my life.

Just as I settle in to re-read my diaries, my mother calls me from the kitchen, letting me know that the cake is ready. Descending the stairs, the family reunion picture catches my eye. Xavier had such an intense reaction after seeing it. Does this all have something to do with my uncle? My father’s brother? It’s a lead I need to look into.

Unfortunately, it’s a whole other week before I can research further. Exam studies and art projects were taking up a lot of time, not to mention Elle hosting semester-end parties in our apartment, bringing over a new boyfriend who no one likes and trying to make him seem like he’s the one. She never mentioned where she was heading off to, but I had been so busy with Xavier recently, we had grown apart. Sharice has been practicing her violin concerto for her semester-end performance in her room, filling our apartment with the sounds of missed notes and discordant tones. Fortunately, Kinsley’s studying elsewhere, which gives some peace, since she’s usually the one the most stressed about her grades. I seem to be our group peacemaker, quelling tensions within the apartment when I’m not actively studying, or getting everyone food or drinks or a shoulder rub.

Taking a break from the books, I shove aside all the materials on my desk. Flipping open my laptop, I delve into a deep search, investigating my uncle’s crimes, but the details and all names are sealed in court records due to the victims’ ages. None of the articles have photographs, except for my uncle’s crazy mugshot.

When I search Xavier’s name, I can only find that his sister, Olivia Cardell, tragically died in the local hospital after a serious “accident” at age eleven. Nothing hints at what kind of accident it was. Olivia was born the same year I was. She even looked like me, with dark hair and olive skin, though her eyes were blue like her brother’s.

Lucia Cardell, Xavier’s mother, had also died in an “accident,” but at home. The articles list Xavier as being fifteen at the time of her death. A black-and-white photo of a father and son grieving at her funeral sits next to the news story. Tears spring to my eyes. Xavier went through so much at such a young age. To lose his family must have been very traumatic for him.

It’s another week that Xavier keeps his distance from me. I miss having sex with him, but long for our nightly chats with cuddles and how much he makes me laugh daily with his snarky comments. In the back of my mind, dark scenarios take root that he’s with another woman or planning to end things with me but doesn’t know how to let me go.

What if it’s over and I just don’t see it?

The broad space he left between us only heightens my need to be close to him. Last week was sadness. Now, I feel desperate.

After my final exam on Thursday afternoon, I text him, but he has a fraternity meeting and is helping his family prepare for their weekend party.

Xavier

ILY

When the Cardell holiday party arrives, excitement floods my nerves unexpectedly for an event I was dreading before. I can’t wait to be able to spend the whole evening with my boyfriend. Two weeks is way too long for me to go without catching a glimpse of his handsome face. Though I’m too embarrassed to tell anyone how often I stare at our pictures on my phone or stalk his social media accounts, despite those remaining dormant.

Xavier sends me another gown. This one is made of gold sequins that hug my figure, and I pair it with my gifted heels and purse. A local jeweler crafted a classy pair of monogrammed cufflinks for Xavier that I’m going to give him at the party. The box just fits into my tiny evening bag. Seeing it as a reminder of him makes my heart pound more powerfully at just the thought of getting to be near him again.

Kinsley calls out that he has arrived, and I rush to meet him, feeling every bit of the two weeks apart. My breath catches at the sight of him in a custom black tuxedo. His eyes sparkle as he scans my frame. Crossing the distance between us in two swift glides, his firm arms embrace me as his lips sear themselves to mine. Holding me back at arm’s length, he feasts on me with his eyes as I do the same.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world. I’ve missed you,” he breathes into my mouth with his eyes closed. Pressing his cheek to mine, we hold each other another moment and everything feels right again.

“I missed you so much. I love you. I can’t get over how good you look,” I say.

Tapping his lips against my forehead, he grabs my hand and leads me to his Land Rover in the parking lot. After all the Stevenson’s parties, a tight knot forms in my belly, nervous about what embarrassing situation I might find myself in tonight. I imagine Mal pointing out other, more appropriate young women for his son to set his eye on. Millie may ignore me in favor of someone more important. At least my friends and family will be there if I need solace.

The Cardell holidayparty is an illustrious event in our quaint little town. Millie obsessively plans for it all year. As Xavier and I arrive at the Georgian mansion, we’re treated to a spectacular lights display, with fully lit blue spruces lining the path toward the house. Faux snow machines blow crystal flakes in glittering arcs across the drive on our approach.

We’re greeted by valet staff and directed around the side entrance of the house by a path of candy canes entwined with white lights. Guests mill slowly to the main event held in a large, clear, heated tent on the back lawn. The smell of pine makes me nostalgic for Christmas mornings past.

Near the tent, the pool has been transformed into a full skating rink with adults and children swirling around the ice. The attached gazebo area holds a glowing firepit with couples cozied nearby, sipping mugs of steamy liquids. A few children roll snowmen out of the fake snow.

Inside the tent, red-clothed tables circle a dance floor in the center. A red throne is located at the far end of the room, where Santa Claus sits, greeting a line of children. Oversized red, green, and gold ornaments of all shapes and sizes hang from the ceiling. Giant glowing candy canes line the walls. A huge pine tree glows with warm candlelight, surrounded by large wrapped gifts in colors matching the other decorations.

Everyone who is anyone is in attendance, including the mayor. Local celebrities, artists, and businessmen gather in small groups, networking and enjoying served cocktails. It’s a formal event with ball gowns, sequined dresses, and tuxedos flourishing throughout the house and grounds.

I find my parents near our assigned table at the head of the room, and Xavier leads us over to greet them with my hand tucked on his bent arm. The Cardells loiter nearby, busy talking to a host of people around them. My roommates mingle with some of the TRZ brothers and Xavier’s friends one table away. Malcolm and Millie generously invited my extended family, and my cousins wait in line to tell the big guy in the red suit what they want for Christmas.

“I can’t get over how magical this place is, Millie. Again, thank you so much for your invitation.” My mother speaks with the Cardells.

“Oh, no, thank you,” Millie responds, flashing her white teeth in a bright smile. “We both couldn’t wait to meet you. I hope you enjoy the food. I hired a new caterer this year, and I’m eager to see how everything tastes.”

As we approach, my father shakes Xavier’s hand firmly, then turns his torso away to sip his scotch. Millie grabs me for a side hug, tossing her little arm around my shoulders. Xavier kisses the back of my mother’s hand. Mal’s distracted speaking with some of his associates, so I don’t have a chance to say hello. But I wonder how our parents’ introduction had gone. Especially with how weird my dad acted when he knew of who Xavier’s father was.

“Well, you’re welcome to our place anytime. Xavier’s been coming over for family dinner on Wednesdays. We love having him,” my mom says to Millie.

“Oh, we adore your daughter. She’s been such a joy in our lives.” Millie lowers her arm and gently pinches mine as I chuckle.

Yes, his parents have been overwhelming, but I have learned to accept their excitement, just like Xavier had received my mother’s. Maybe our families aren’t too dissimilar. Fears of the ghosts from Stevenson’s parties past leave me for good. If these types of events are in my future, I’ll welcome them. And becoming a Cardell, too.

Mal taps a glass with his fork to get everyone’s attention. “Please, everyone, please take your seats. It’s time for the first course.” Everyone shuffles to their tables. My parents are assigned seats next to the Cardells. Once we sit, my mother leans over to whisper in my ear, “Told you. We have moved up the social ladder. Maybe they heard about my baking.”

I giggle, a snort coming through my nose. “I doubt that, Mom.” Xavier sits between his father and me, rubbing my cold hands between his to keep them warm. Millie is on the other side of Malcolm. My parents are on my right.

My father sips his glass of scotch and flags down a waitress for another. He never drinks more than two, but tonight he seems nervous, squinting his eyes more than usual.

“Dad, you okay?” I ask, but he just forces a smile and looks the other way.

Malcolm stands at the head of the room and rings a small bell. People glance up from their conversations as his booming voice resonates through the tent. “Before we begin, we have an announcement. Xavier⁠—”

Xavier’s Adam’s apple bounces as he sets his face like he’s off to confront a dragon. Squeezing my hand, he pulls me up and leads me to the dance floor as the room turns their heads to watch us move. My pulse skyrockets, thundering in my veins. Focusing on the floor, I try not to trip on my gown. I feel as if I’m being led to the gallows. What had just been a boisterous event suddenly transforms into a silent affair, the deafening quiet causing my heart to pound loudly in my ears. All the stares from the massive crowd penetrate my skin like daggers.

In the middle of the dance floor, Xavier spins and drops to one knee. An audible gasp erupts from everyone, including me, as my hands press against my mouth in shock. The room rotates slowly before my eyes until I think I may faint. My brain can’t understand what’s happening. Xavier digs out a ring from a velvet box in his pocket and pulls my hand from my face, placing it on my finger.

“These last few months with you have felt like a lifetime, but an eternity with you could never be enough for me. Marissa Matlock, I love you with every piece of my being. I’m obsessed with you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Anger and embarrassment hit me like a freight train. Has this what he’s been up to this whole time? Was he avoiding me to set this up as a surprise? Instead of giving him an answer, I consider running away. I can go somewhere no one knows me. Maybe take on a new identity. Does the FBI allow voluntary witnesses into their protection program? I already told Xavier it’s too soon to get engaged, yet here he is proposing in front of everyone I know. Hell, in front of the entire town!

Glancing around, my eyes meet the expectant faces of the audience. My mother and Millie, with tears glazing their eyes. My friends, all ready to root us on. Strangers anticipating only a positive ending to the romantic movie I’m unwittingly acting out. Rejection of his question will only cause me more humiliation than I already feel.

Lowering his voice to some delicate whisper only I can hear, he says, “This was my mother’s ring. Please. Will you marry me?” Xavier grabs my attention again by shaking my hand a little, the gigantic perfect diamond cold on the tip of my ring finger. His face appears terrified, an expression I’ve never seen him close to wearing.

My chest expands in a deep breath before I give him my answer.