Page 82 of Cruel King
The irony that Matthias likely felt something similar the day I left without even a word to him isn’t lost on me. If he felt anything like I do, I deserved all of his hate. But I did tell Theo to let him know I had to go to my aunt’s. Why didn’t he relay that message?
If only he had, maybe what happened could have been avoided.
Taking a deep breath in, I lay my head back down on the pillow as the truth fills my brain. No, even though Theo never gave his brother my message, it isn’t his fault that everything happened as it did. That’s my fault. Even Matthias isn’t totally to blame. I hurt him, and since that day, he’s held a grudge that made him lash out every time he was around me. All I had to do was tell Theo the truth. If I had only been honest with him and told him Matthias and I were together five years ago, all of this misery could have been avoided.
This is my fault, and I’m the one who has to make things right. I don’t have control over that, though. Only Theo does, and if he never answers my texts and calls, then his silence will be my punishment.
I call him for the third time today, and when I hear his voice in my ear saying, “You know what to do,” I wish I did know how to fix this. I hate the thought of him sad because of me.
At the beep, I wait for a moment and then say the same words I’ve said every time I’ve called. “Theo, I don’t know if you’re getting this message, but I hope you are. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. If you could just call me or answer any of my texts so I can know that you don’t hate me, I’d be the happiest person in the world. I’m so sorry, Theo.”
I end the call and set my phone on the pillow next to me as I turn onto my side and watch for any text or call. He has to answer me sometime. I know he’s hurt, but he’ll call or text. I know he will.
Another hour goes by, and my phone doesn’t make a sound. I know exactly how Matthias felt that day I left.
Unloved. Unwanted. Unimportant.
I don’t know what to think about him. I should be furious and hate him for ruining things between Theo and me. Every time I say that, though, the truth comes rushing to the front of my mind. Matthias didn’t lie in a single word he said about our time together. I may not like that he told Theo about us, but if he did that because of jealousy, how am I to blame him?
The truth is I haven’t only been crying about what happened with Theo. I’m sad about Matthias too. I never wanted to hurt him either. That time we spent together meant something important to me. I didn’t mean to break his heart by leaving.
A soft knock on my bedroom door tears me out of my sad thoughts. It’s my father, just like it’s been him a few times every day since everything happened and I came home and crawled into bed.
Every time, I’ve told him I don’t want to talk and to please leave me alone. And every time, he’s quietly walked away to leave me with my misery.
I know he wants to talk and try to make me smile. He wants to tell me things look bad but they’re going to get better. He told me that every day after my mother passed away, even as he was struggling to not hide under the covers and let grief consume him over losing her. I needed those words then, but now I’m not sure they’re true.
Things may never get better. If Theo won’t talk to me, I’ll have lost my best friend in the world. How can things be better if that happens?
“Ava, honey? Are you awake?” he says against my bedroom door.
“Yes, Dad. Come in.”
The door opens slowly, and when he steps into the room, he looks almost afraid, like he doesn’t know what to expect. He’s surely heard me crying day after day, so he probably isn’t sure what kind of condition I’ll be in when he sees me for the first time in a week.
“Honey, are you okay?” my father asks with a gentle smile meant to cheer me up.
That question makes tears well in my eyes again because I’m not okay. I’m not sure I’m ever going to be okay again.
“What’s up, Dad?” I ask, hoping to change the conversation so I don’t start bawling again.
Tilting his head toward the door, he says, “Matthias is downstairs. He wants to see you.”
Surprised, I sit up in bed at that news. I hadn’t expected that to come out of my father’s mouth.
“Do I have to?” I ask, afraid if I don’t see him that he’ll do something terrible to my father.
My question gets me a look of confusion. “Why would you have to talk to him?”
“Because I don’t want this to cause a problem for you.”
I don’t explain what I mean because I don’t want to scare him. He shouldn’t have to worry that at any moment Matthias will swoop in and try to take the house from him. Mr. King made sure that we can stay here as long as we want, but I’ve worried about upsetting Matthias and him retaliating. Even worse is the fear that he’ll fire my father. Mr. King left us money, but my father’s job means the world to him.
My father walks over to the side of my bed and sits down next to me. “Max took care of me and you and your brother, honey. This house is ours for as long as we want it, and we have enough money to tell anyone we want we don’t want to speak to them. That includes Matthias King.”
I breathe a sigh of relief at that news. Mr. King has made us safe from everything, and for that, I can’t thank him enough.
“But I will say this. He doesn’t look like himself.”