Chapter 70 Chapter 70
STANLEY'S POV
I looked up at the wall clock, it was a few minutes past 7 but it didn't feel like it. I was savouring the bitter taste of my too-dark cup of coffee, staring blankly at the skyline from the window in my living room, when my private line sprang to life.
"Talk," I answered, my voice rough.
"You've got eyes on you," my investigator said. "And not the usual kind. It looks like Someone's high profile is asking questions about your movements, your recent phone calls, money changes,and even travel. They're trying to be subtle. But I know a clean cover when I see one and I have eyes everywhere so believe me when I say you're being investigated" he finally finished, taking a deep breath.
I set the mug down. "Do you have a name? A face?"
"Not yet. But the person who's doing this has access to the top databases. I'm working on it but I can't do all the working. You need to be careful on your end."
I rubbed my jaw, eyes tight. "Keep me in the loop. And scan your back trail. Delete it ao rhey don't link anything to you."
"I always do."
“Good.” I said, and he hung up.
Who on earth was following me? Just when I thought my life was already messy enough then this happens?
Liana wouldn't do this. If she needed answers to any of her questions, she'd approach me head on. This smelt of something different and apart from Liana, there's only one person whose bad books I am on. There only one person who was too much of a coward to talk to me directly, I couldn't be too sure it's him but my bet is on Dominic.
I took a deep breath and grabbed my keys. I needed some air.
I took a turn around the cemetery and looked for somewhere to park. It was as quiet as memory. The headstones lined up like a row of forgotten stories, and I walked them slowly, by the old curve of a willow tree, to the one that bore my mother's name: Clarice Smith. Her name was etched in stone the way she'd etched herself in my heart. Lovely, powerful, always tired, but always loyal. I knelt beside the grave, brushing off a pair of leaves that had fallen to the bottom.
"Hey, Mom."
The words caught in my throat. It'd been months since I'd come here. No excuses. Just aching. I sat there, propping my elbows on my knees.
"I'm sorry I didn't bring flowers, I didn't plan to come here.” I said as I wiped a tear drop that was rolling down my cheek. “I think I am falling in love."
Saying it out loud felt so strange, but also comforting. "She's incredible. She scares me sometimes. In a good way. Makes me wish to improve, she makes me so happy. But…” I breathed heavily, the smile smile disappearing from my face. “I did what Dad did. I lied, I used her. I played a game and lost focus and now she's hurt."
The wind stirred gently through the leaves. I inched forward. "And Dominic…" His name set my throat aflame. "He's the same. Arrogant. Cold in silence. You remember that Christmas at the Carters? I was just fourteen. You asked him to move over for me to sit next to him, maybe talk,play, be brothers for once. And he turned, with that entire smile, and said to all…" I swallowed, the memory as sharp as the day.
"Half brothers don't get full seats."
"Everyone laughed at the table, only you didn't. You wept in the bathroom afterwards. You tried to hide it from me, but I heard you. And it made me so sad. I never told you because that would have defeated your reason for hiding to cry.”
I clung to the edge of the grave. "I won't let him win any longer. I don't want to become like him, though. I want Liana to forgive me. Yeah… Liana, his ex wife. I know you're surprised I fell for my half brother's woman. It's a lot deeper than that but I will tell you about it another time. I don't even want her to love me right now, I just need her to see me for who I am right now, and not for who I was in the past."
I stood up slowly, cleaning my pants. "Help me do right this time, Mom. Where you are? Just… help me make this right." I said trying so hard not to let the tears drop. She wouldn’t want me to cry, she will want me to be strong. So I will be strong.
As I walked away from the grave, the wind picked up and snapped the leaves more roughly than it had before. As if she heard me. As if she was sending me a silent signal.
I just prayed I wasn't too late.