Page 55 of Save You
“You can’t think like that, Xander,” he says and turns to face me, “you think Beth would regret her? You need to be what Beth wanted you to be. A father who loves Rosie enough for both of you. Does that make sense?”
I nod slowly as we both continue to stare sadly at our bitter drinks. A few long moments pass before I say anything else. Now seems as good a time as any to raise an insensitive subject. It can’t make the moment any more awkward than it already is.
“Mal?” I ask quietly, prompting him to look up with an expression that’s both friendly and worried, all at the same time. “Can you tell me about Rosalie, your mother? Beth told me she’s in a home now. How far… gone is she?”
I wince as soon as the words leave my mouth, along with his subsequent reaction to them. It’s not hard to see how much love he has for his mother; it’s all there in the look he’s giving me. It must be heartbreaking to watch her fading away, to see her forgetting everything and everyone that made her who she is.
“Dementia is a shitty disease, Xander,” he says sadly, “and if it was a choice between what happened to Beth, or suffering like my mother, I think you can guess which one I would choose.”
“I’m sorry, Mal,” I reply and swallow hard, almost wishing I hadn’t said anything. “Life has handed you a bastard of a deal recently.”
“That it has,” he huffs and finally takes a sip of his wine, only to grimace afterward. “She used to have moments of clarity, then moments of complete blankness. She would remember things from way back but then forget what my name was. She used to say these random things, which never made much sense until all this Mayfield shit transpired. Now they make complete sense!”
“Like what?”
“She used to say, ‘A Mayfield lady this,’ and ‘A Mayfield lady that’. She’d also go into fits of complete hysteria, huddling and hiding in a corner, seemingly fighting away ‘demons’ who she said were trying to get at her. Then there were other times when she would scream at the nurses, telling them not to touch her baby, not to brand her baby.”
“Jesus!”
This must have been so hard for Mal to witness; I can’t imagine seeing my mother going through that and forgetting who I am. And to do it without a sibling to support you must be even tougher.
“Whenever I questioned her about it, during one of her lucid periods, she’d smile and shake it off. To begin with, I think she knew what I was talking about, but now?” he sighs, “Now she thinks I’m Tom and that I, Mal, am still in nappies. Beth and Riley don’t even exist. It’s like she’s living in the past, during a time when she had felt safe.”
“Where is Tom?” I’m assuming he’s dead, but no one has actually said what happened to him. Having the journalistic blood that I have running though me, I have to ask.
“No idea!” he replies, completely expressionless. “One day, he went to help one of the neighbors and just never came back. After we exhausted all the avenues of hospitals, police stations, who swept the area for any bodies, which was real fun by the way, we had to consider the fact that he must have left her.”
“Is that what you think?”
“I did, for a long time. To say I was angry, is a massive understatement. But I was also heartbroken. He was my dad, and I loved him. Even when they sat me down and told me about my biological father, Tom was who I considered to be my real father. But with all the evidence, I did believe the worst for a while,” he says with a shrug and a sad smile. In fact, you could argue that he looks regretful for the fact. “However, what with everything that we’ve learned about recently, maybe he didn’t just disappear of his own free will. The guy loved my mother more than anything else in the world. They rarely fought, and if anyone even hinted at being disrespectful toward her, he was on them like a nasty rash, clawing at their skin. He idolized the woman. And to me? He was the greatest father in the world. I know he loved me; he told me every single day, without fail. It doesn’t make any sense for him to just get up and leave.”
“Fuck,” I whisper before shoving my hand over my potty mouth. “Sorry-”
“No, the word is fitting!” He smiles, then swigs back his wine. “Unfortunately, I can only assume he’s dead now. It’s been ten years since he left us. My mother went rapidly downhill not long after, and I had to move her back to Surrey with us. Truth be told, I don’t think she has long left.”
“Like I said, I’m really sorry, Mal,” I say softly as I hold my gaze with his, “I really mean that.”
Chapter 22
Beth
“Ahhh!” I gasp when I try to move from my slumped position on the bed. Tears are continuing to leak out of me as I crawl on my hands and knees around the mattress. Eventually, I manage to climb up inside of the covers. Once inside, I remain leaning on my side because the mere thought of putting any pressure on my fresh wounds, makes me feel nauseated.
Breathing in and out with deep but shaky intakes of air, I begin to panic when I hear the sound of the doors clicking open. What if Oliver has returned to delve more obedience lessons upon me? The fear of that happening makes my welts throb even stronger, so I grasp hold of the sheet on top of me and clutch onto my cover for dear life. I only breathe again when I realize there are two sets of footsteps - soft tip taps from a pair of heels, and ungraceful thumps from a pair of heavy boots.
“Two minutes,” I hear Pru whisper, as though she’s conspiring with someone. “Any longer and he’ll get suspicious from the cameras in the hallway. I’ll wait by the door, just in case.”
No one replies, but I hear the door close again, this time being ever so much softer than when Oliver stormed out of here not long ago. I can’t move to find out who she’s talking to, but when I see a long pair of legs covered in black cargo trousers, I can instantly tell who it is. The knowledge of which has me releasing whimpers I have been trying so hard to keep inside. Leo’s broad figure soon crouches down before me with a soft expression and a hint of tears in his big bear eyes. My eyes are wet and puffy, and I’m still holding onto the sheet against my mouth for fear of letting all the hurt in if I let go.
Our eyes continue to search each other’s for a moment or two, until eventually, he lifts his giant hand to stroke damp strands of hair away from my face. He blows caution to the wind and leans in to rest his forehead against mine, an action which is enough to undo me altogether. Realizing we don’t have a lot of time together, he glances down my body and shuts his eyes, his jaw clenching up tight as my limbs still tremble in the aftermath of Oliver’s punishment.
“Are you decent?” he whispers.
I shake my head, feeling even more ashamed because of it, humiliated by my nudity in front of him. He nods slowly in understanding, then gestures toward Pru with just his eyes. She shuffles over with her barely-there footsteps.
“Mind if we take a look, sweetheart?” I hear Pru ask awkwardly.
Closing my eyes, I nod while Leo continues to hold my hand more tightly, keeping his eyes firmly on mine as Pru lifts the sheet away from my legs and exposes the welts to both the cold and her gaze. Her gasp travels straight through me, and, once again, Leo tightens his grip on my hand.