Chapter 19: Out with the old

Neveah:

My vision blurs, and my head pounds as I slowly come awake. I’m tucking myself back into my comforter when I hear something scraping on the floor. Brow furrowed, I rise from my perch and listen for the sound again.

As I listen, I sift my fingers through my hair and recall the events of the night before. I remember meeting Azazel, going to the roof, kissing him, and seeing Mikhail.

Mikhail! He brought me home last night. He must have carried me in and tucked me into bed. Embarrassment envelopes my body at the thought of him tucking me in. Closing my eyes, I groan in disgust. Shit, what did I do last night?

The scraping sound echoes across the room again, startling me from my morbid thought. My eyes widen when I notice the time. It’s ten in the morning. Pushing back the covers, I peer behind the bedroom door and see nothing. It’s only when I step out of my room and peer down the stairs that I spot my mom.

“Mom?” I say, surprised.

My mom looks up, startled. “Nevaeh. You’re up.”

I shrug my shoulders and frown when I notice that her suitcases are in her hands. “Mom, when did you come in?”

She looks around the floor and pushes the suitcases towards the stairs. “Oh, I just got in an hour ago.”

I look at her suitcase then back at her. “Where are you going now?”

She doesn’t respond at first, which puts my nerves on edge. I follow her down the stairs and gape when I see a stack of suitcases near the door.

My mother places the suitcase next to the others and turns to face me with an unreadable expression. “How about we go to the living room and talk.” She mutters firmly.

I reluctantly follow behind her and shake my head when she gestures for me to take a seat. Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I clench my jaw and mutter. “Just spit it out, mom.”

Sighing, my mom walks to the fireplace and looks into the ashy surface. “There are some things you need to know, Nevaeh. Things that have been due for a long time.”

She mutters grimly. “The first thing you need to know is that your father and I are getting a divorce. We’ve been unhappy for a long time…”

I snort in derision at her statement. But she ignores it and continues. “We talked briefly and decided that it would be a good idea if we go our separate ways. Since I travel a great deal, I’ve chosen to stay at a friend’s house. However, we don’t want to displace you, so we’ll be keeping the house until you leave for college.”

Even though I should be surprised by her dismissal, I’m not. At this point, there’s nothing my parents can do that would surprise me.

“Where’s dad staying?” I croak out. Emotion clogs my throat as I try to keep myself from crying. There’s no point because no one cares.

“There’s something else you need to know, Nevaeh. Randall… Randall is actually not your real father.”

My heart stops, and my breathing quickens at her words. “What?” My mother slumps down on the sofa, deflated. She looks sad, but I don’t care. It hurts too much to care.

“It happened during my senior year of college. Randall and I were having relationship issues. I wanted him, and he wanted to play football. That year he was traveling so much that I began to feel lonely. One night, I went with a couple of my friends to a local club. We were drunk and wild. I remember that there was this very good-looking man there. He was breathtaking with auburn hair and golden eyes. I was instantly smitten. I sat next to him and tried to chat him up. He looked lonely, and something inside of me called to his loneliness. I guess it’s because I was just as lonely. He told me that his wife had died, which somehow made me want him more. He tried to leave, but I persisted. One thing led to another, and we ended up having sex. He disappeared the next morning without a trace. I didn’t even know his name. When Randall came back from camp, I didn’t tell him what I did. Five weeks later, I learned that I was pregnant. Randall assumed you were his and I… I didn’t correct him. There was no point since I didn’t know your real father’s name. Life when on, and Randall and I got married.”

Tears glide down my face as I gaze into my mother’s eyes. “How…how did dad…Randall, find out?”

My mother wipes her hands across her thighs, her eyes looking off into the distance. “Remember a few years ago when we rushed you to the emergency room because your appendix ruptured?”

I nod my head in recollection. “Well, you needed a blood transfusion, and neither your father nor I were a match. That’s when he knew. I confessed everything to him in hopes that he loved us enough to forgive me, but after that, he grew resentful. Look, Nevaeh, I know this is hard on you, but you're old enough to realize that sometimes adults make mistakes.”

I look at my mother, horrified by her words. I realize at that moment that my mother is not who I thought she was.

“Mistakes? You mean a mistake like me, don’t you? My god, you are so selfish. Even as you explain yourself, you excuse your behavior. For so long, I thought that this family fell apart because of me. I thought that maybe I did something wrong. But it turns out that you and dad—or whoever he is; are just selfish people. Did you know he was screwing his secretary?” I ask, seeing if I can get a reaction out of her. But she doesn’t even blink, which tells me all I need to know.

“You knew, didn’t you? Unfortunately, I found out when I saw them nearly screwing in his office. I’m guessing he’s moving in with his girlfriend and that I’m supposed to live here until my semester beings. Is that right? That should be easy for you and Randall. You can sell the house and forget that I exist.”

My mother stands stoically and nods. “Fine, then let me help you erase your mistake.” Turning around, I walk to the front door and take her suitcases. Once all her suitcases are tucked into her car, I turn back and face her. She gives me a look as if to say something but changes her mind and walks to the car. Not caring to speak or look at her again, I make my way back to the house and slam the door shut. It isn’t until I hear her engine that I slide down to the floor and cry.

I don’t know how long I sit there until my sobs subside, and my tears run dry. Resolved, I pick myself up from the floor and go to my room. As I stand in front of the mirror and look at my ragged face, I make a promise to never cry for those people again. They decided to cast me aside for their own selfish reasons, so I will make my own way. Taking a deep breath, I slip off my dress and jump into the shower sighing with relief as the water washes away my pain. I scrub my face clean and wash my hair as the feeling of renewal washes over me. Once I’m done, I slip on some comfortable cutoff shorts and a tank top and tie my hair back into a ponytail.

The first thing I do that morning is, take down all the pictures on the wall. I remove every family picture of happy moments. I don’t want to see them now that they’re tainted with lies. I do this throughout the whole house and place them in a box once I’m done. Maybe someday I can gaze upon them without pain, but today is not the day. I place the boxes in the garage, removing any lingering signs of my parents. As soon as I’m finished, I lie back on my bed and close my eyes. At that moment, I feel a strong sense of peace. I feel as if I’ve cleansed the house of my parent’s ghosts and turned it into a blank slate. For the next few months, I will live in this house with the knowledge that once I am out, I will never look back.

Satisfied with the changes, I grab my Cleopatra and Marc Anthony book and head out to my swing. I’m lying stretched out into a relaxed pose and reading my book when a shadow falls over me. Startled, I blink my eyes and look. Standing before me is Mikhail Cross. He looks so gorgeous with the light of the sun haloing his features. His dark hair gleams like velvet, and his golden skin glows like honey. Sliding up from my perch, I close the book and face him.

“Hey,” I whisper calmly, even though my heart feels like it’s about to burst from my chest.

Mikhail looks at the swing then back at me with a curious smile. “Hey, I came to see how you were feeling this morning.” A blush crawls up my cheeks. Of course, he’s checking up on me after I made such a fool of myself. Why am I such a goof?

Tucking my feet under me, I shift around uncomfortably. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for bringing me home. I guess I got pretty wasted. Azazel probably thinks I’m a lush.” I smile wanly. I don’t want him to see how embarrassed I am.

Mikhail smiles back and points to the empty spot in the swing next to me. “May I?”

I nod my head as he takes a seat. His powerful body uncoiling into a relaxed pose while his feet slowly rock the swing. His dark hair is messily tousled, and his lips are swollen. Unaware of my infatuated appraisal, Mikhail places his tanned arm over the back of the swing and rocks it slowly.

Groaning inwardly, I take an imperceptible breath at the beautiful scene he presents.

“Trust me, it wasn’t that bad. I’ve seen Rowan drunk, and it isn’t pretty. Besides, it was your birthday; you earned it.”

He reaches for the book in my lap, reading through the cover, then looks back at me. “I guess we need to finish this, huh?”

I nod my head and take the book from his hand. “Yeah, I finished most of the questions, but without you, there’s no scene.” Mikhail rises from the chair and extends his hand out to me. “Then we better get this done.”

“Oh, okay. How about we go to my house? I need something to drink?”

Mikhail nods and wordlessly follows me into the kitchen. Placing the book over the island counter, I turn back to him. “Would you like something to drink? I have lemonade, Gatorade, orange juice, and water.” He points to the bottle of water I’m holding. “I’ll take the water.” I hand him the bottle and reach for my own.

“Thanks,” He says. I reach for my literature notes and organize them across the counter. “Okay, so, Mrs. C wants us to act out the moment Cleopatra and Marc Anthony meet. The scene starts with them negotiating a treaty between the Egyptians and the Romans. Cleopatra wants him to acknowledge her and Caesar’s son, but Marc Anthony will only do it if she sleeps with him.”

Mikhail gives me a heated look and nods his head before he accepts the script I hand him. Taking his bottle of water, he reads through the scene carefully. I can’t help but stare as he slips his lush lips over the rim of the bottle. I’m nearly hypnotized by his presence. What is this power he has over me?

When he’s done, he looks back at me and snickers. “It looks like you slap me in this scene. Be gentle.” I rest my bottle on the nearest table with a smile. “Okay.”

We experience a few false starts at first because we’re still trying to get comfortable with each other. To say that the scene is intense is an understatement. I read my lines carefully. My body is flush against his as I tell him that I would whore myself for the good of my people. Then, our eyes meet, and we kiss. The kiss is even better than the last one. His arms wrap around my waist as I slide my fingers through his hair. Deepening the kiss, I rub my chest against his chest with a groan. Mikhail growls in response and pulls me closer. I think it’s the growl that brings me back to reality. Placing my hands against his chest, I move my lips from his and push him away. Mikhail stumbles back, dazed. The only sound you can hear is the sound of our ragged breathing.

“You need to go, Mikhail. I can’t do this again. I’m just not up for games of hot and cold. So please go.” I plead huskily.

Mikhail licks his lips with a shake of his head. Frustrated, I walk to the front door, but Mikhail stops me and pulls me to his chest. “Look, Nevaeh…I’m sorry. I know that I’ve been kind of a dick to you. But I… I care about you. When we kissed before… I got scared. It was incredible and perfect, and it scared me because my life is so complicated, and it would be selfish of me to bring you into it.”

I’m surprised by his confession. Of all things, I never expected Mikhail to admit how he felt about me. I don’t know what to do. I’m beyond surprised, but I’m also wary of his newfound attitude.

“Look, Mikhail, you’re not the only one with a complicated life. I cannot even begin to tell you how much my life sucks right now. All I ask is that you stop playing with my feelings. If you don’t want to be with me, then stay away from me. Don’t come around, kiss me and make me feel something, then turn around and tell me that it means nothing.”

Mikhail nods his head and places his hands around my waist with a gentle smile. “I know, Nevaeh. I don’t want to hurt you. But after seeing you with Azazel last night, I realized that I can’t pretend that I don’t want to be with you. I just…I just…I want you to give me a chance.”

I open my mouth several times, but no words come out. Releasing a breath, I place my hands on his and take a ragged breath. “Mikhail…” As I look into his beautiful eyes, I come to a decision. I can’t continue to be scared that everyone around me will hurt me. It’s not fair to me. I need to take a chance. At first, the kiss is hesitant. Mikhail nips my bottom lip playfully and sighs into my lips with a groan. As the kiss deepens, we let go of our fears and enjoy each other. My heart feels lighter with every passing second.

Our foreheads touch as we gaze into each other’s eyes.

Mikhail releases me, taking my hand and walking towards the door. “Where are we going?” He points to his house, ushering me towards the front door. A smile adorns my lips as I follow my boyfriend out the door. Mikhail’s my boyfriend! I can’t believe how happy those three words make me.