Page 114 of Claimed By my Father's Enemies
What I actually feel is strange, hollow and slightly unreal, like someone took away the thing I'd been pushing against and I haven't caught my balance yet.
I push off the door and walk toward the exit.
The sun hits me when I step outside and I stop.
As soon as I step outside I see Carter and William leaning on Carter’s Range Rover. When they see me exit, they straighten up and look at me anxiously.
I bet it is the same look I had on my face when I was waiting for the doctor’s news.
I didn't tell them I'd be here.
William reaches me first. "Well," he says. "How did it go?"
I try the poker face. I genuinely try. But I'm too far from equilibrium right now I can't hold it, "I completely aced it. Did you doubt that I was beating this? Pfff—"
William grabs me.
Both arms, immediate, no hesitation, and the air leaves my body at once. I grip the back of his jacket and hold on. Neither of us says anything because neither of us can.
When he steps back Carter steps in and does the same thing. Harder. I let him too, longer than I mean to.
And here we are three men hugging each other and discreetly whipping tears in the middle of the sidewalk on a hot LA afternoon.
"Nothing to see folks," I say, when Carter steps back. "Keep moving."
William scrubs the back of his hand across his face. "We need to celebrate."
My mind goes directly to Sienna. She should be here. She should be standing next to me right now and the reason she isn't is because of something I did.
Usually after these doctor appointments, the release of kept tension was so great that I needed to lose myself in the night, in drink, in some hot sex with a woman.
What I want right now is a quiet room. Candlelight. Soft jazz playing in the background. Sienna there. That's it. That's the whole thing.
I try to shake it off.
"How did you guys know I would be here?" I ask.
Carter's smile fades. He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out his phone, unlocks it, and holds it out to me.
I look at the screen and don't understand what I'm looking at for a second. Then I do.
I take it out of his hand to make sure.
A text. This morning. To Carter and William. Sender: Sienna.
Adrian needs you today.
Then the address of the doctor. Then the exact time of the appointment.
I stare at it. The words don't change form. They stay exactly as small as they are. She knew I wouldn't tell them. She knew they'd want to be here and she knew I would need them here.
I can’t believe she remembered the date that I mentioned so long ago. But then again, this is Sienna, always looking after the others. Even when she is disappointed with them.
I look up from the message to Carter and then to William and say “She cares. She still cares.”
Neither of them says anything. William's jaw is set. Carter has gone still. They're not jumping on it. Neither am I. We're all holding the same thing carefully, from the same distance, because we all understand what it is and what it isn't.
It isn't forgiveness.
