Page 101 of Bargaining

I scanned another notebook, and another. With each flip of the page, my stomach fluttered with guilt. There were some gaps, but the diaries spanned the years from when Tiffany and I were young to when we were teenagers. I’d need to text Tiff. I couldn’t sit here and read this without her. But I couldn’t tear myself away either. Instead, I curled up in the corner of Dad’s office and read his thoughts on the weather, on teaching, on his pupils, on me and Tiff (and how naughty we’d been as toddlers). Some entries were so funny, I couldn’t stop laughing. These diaries were so precious. He was here with me in these words.

I closed my eyes and I could almost feel how it had been before, when this house had thrummed with life. When the curtains wereopen and the carpets hadn’t faded. When everything smelled of the hot beer that Dad had brewed in the bathtub, and Cole was by my side, building a tire swing with me in the woods, introducing me to some obscure indie band, eating popcorn on the couch. Life had felt like nothing but opportunity. It was all gone. There was just echoing silence, and a crumbling house full of memories.

An unbearable ache inside made my chest hurt. I had too much feeling—sorrow, regret, disappointment, remorse. Too much of all of it, like burning inside. I had to get it out, any way possible. I stumbled through the house, past the stair lift, through the musty hall, and to the garage outside, where I found my old art supplies. I’d thrown so much of it away, but not all of it. There were still some blank canvases. Art hadn’t just given me meaning, it had been the way to get my feelings out. To understand myself. Some part of me must have known how precious it all was. Some part of me must have known that one day I’d come back to rebuild my tower. With trembling hands, I salvaged whatever I could, and I began to paint.

Chapter 47

Cole

The rain battered me. It soaked through the wooden bench beneath me, and pitted circles in the greasy puddles at my feet. A stiff wind made me shiver.Hello, British Summer Time. How I’ve missed you.I’d intended to go straight to the office this morning, but somehow I hadn’t made it. Instead, I was sitting in a park opposite the office, trying to figure out why I was sitting in a fucking park opposite the office when I had work to do.

“Are you sure you don’t want the umbrella, sir?” my valet asked politely.

I glanced up at him. The rain was steady now. A relentless gray assault that had soaked through my coat, through my shirt, to the skin. I made no effort to move. I deserved this kind of punishment, but my valet didn’t. The poor man was as soaked as me. I’d told him to leave several times. From his stoic expression, you’d think sitting in the rain like this was completely normal.

“It’s fine, thank you, Dave. I told you. Take the car. I don’t need you anymore.”

He glanced around the park, his eyes drifting from the overflowing bin to the run-down playground where a group of rowdy teenagers larked around under a graffiti-covered shelter.

“I don’t want to leave you here on your own, sir.”

“What do you mean?”

He cleared his throat and adjusted his wet cap. “You don’t look ... You don’t seem yourself.”

Right. I wasn’t my fucking self. I hadn’t slept in a week. My gut wouldn’t stop churning. Every time I closed my eyes to sleep, my brain wouldn’t give me a minute’s peace. I tore off the crusts of my sandwich and threw them to the pigeons. Not like I was going to eat it, anyway. My appetite had disappeared. The birds flocked in a loud, squabbling chaos that grated on me.

“Why don’t you let me take you back home, sir? You can dry off.”

“I’m supposed to be in the office.”

He held his face perfectly expressionless, despite the large raindrops running down his nose. “Shall I accompany you to the office now?”

I hunched in my drenched peacoat. A great shiver ran through me. No. I couldn’t face it. It was all so pointless. I couldn’t sit through another meeting when none of it mattered. All that mattered was Charlotte.

“No. Please, just go. No point us both getting wet.”

“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Thorner.” A tentative voice drifted to my ears.

Thorner. I’d have to go back to it. Not yet. Not until the divorce was finalized. I looked up to see a vaguely familiar blonde woman in a smart suit.

“What is it?”

She swallowed. “We were just wondering if you’re coming inside. You have a solid calendar of meetings today.”

“Cancel them.”

She exchanged an uneasy look with Dave. “All of them?”

“Yes.”

She bit her lip. “Also, it’s Alice’s last day. We’ve organized a fuddle in the conference room.”

I couldn’t keep the irritation rolling under my skin from my voice. “I don’t know what that word means.”

“A buffet. Everybody brings something to eat.” She cleared her throat. “I thought I should make you aware in case you see people enjoying themselves and get mad about it. I promise it will only be during lunch break.”

I cut her a sharp glance. She clasped her hands tightly in front of herself. She looked frightened. The way people looked around my father. Charlotte’s words rang in my head.Have you considered being less of an arsehole?