The low came just as I had expected. It hurt. Of course, I deserved all the pain possible then, not Andy. Not the one who loved me, not the one who tried to buy me the world. My heartless self was surprisingly still going strong. My life felt dull, and my so-called-heart turned grey, I never cried once.
My brothers were suddenly becoming quite busy. The weather change caused allergies and illnesses everywhere for Austin. Chris had his solo psychology business booming before he knew it. His client numbers went higher than before, and Austin and Bailey had been making bank as their paranoid clients swarmed in like flies.
I could tell Chris was trying his best to resist being overwhelmed, and he soon had to call me for help with organizing his client files. It was a good distraction from my painful life, and it gave me one-on-one time with my brother, having me feel like a normal teenager who thought about college.
I remembered how Andy sat me on his lap and began looking for colleges for me. It didn't last long. My heart turned hollow at the memory.
Austin's daughter's birthday was coming up, so everyone was busy with something.
It was around two or three weeks after I ended things with Andy, and after ignoring his calls and having the same discussions when he came by my house to plead, he listened, of course, reluctantly. I was quite good at convincing these days.
I was alone in my house, since that had also become normal after the few weeks. The guys had to stop coming by, only Chris did to pick up files I had for him. I wasn't paying much attention, I was mostly just lounging around my house in boredom. It was a Saturday, so of course there wasn't much to do.
The television was on. It was never on, but I had this feeling. And I was right, too, because thirty minutes into some show, there was breaking news on Extra. I felt as my heart sped up, and before I knew it I was watching Andy Carl and an absolute gorgeous woman hold hands and wave like royalty. He looked so business-like, so professional. She did, too. In her designer business outfit and beautiful smile, they looked perfect for each other. It zoomed in up close on the girl's ring. It was huge.
I waited until the name came along, and didn't flinch when I heard them say Andy Carl- Millionaire Businessman- was getting married to Jacquelyn Bridges- Daughter Of Rich And Famous CEO, Robert Bridges- And their businesses were going to merge, going to create beautiful children to extend the legacy. I hated how professional Andy looked, and had to remind myself that he would learn to love her. I wished he smiled brightly, happily, but he kept his business-stone-faced look.
It hurt like hell.
Eventually I had to turn all electronics off, since Andy was everywhere. The internet, the television, magazines, it's all happened so quickly.
It was Sunday morning, I was in my living room, playing Frank Sinatra and dancing around while eating chocolate covered pomegranates. I was letting out my woman frustrations, upset at myself but proud at the same time for letting go of someone I loved, someone who loved me.
It was for the best.
But while I was in the middle of listening to Fly Me To The Moon, my front door was shoved open and it made a loud slam! that caused me to flinch and my heart pound. To make my pulse worse, it was Mr. Grant.
I couldn't speak, and only stood there in shock as he approached me fast and lividly. I was so fucking scared then, because the look in his eyes was almost murderous.
"You lying bitch." He shouted as the door slammed shut, making me flinch again.
I stared up at his fiery brown eyes and for a split second I thought he would strangle me. I still said nothing, watching as his red face glared roughly at me. "If you didn't like me, you should've said so," He yelled in my face, leaning into me while I tried to distance myself.
I was too busy trying not to shake in the fear I felt, I was too busy trying not to be afraid. Then his words went through my head, and I was so confused. "What-"
"What the fuck is this?" He shouted, much louder than before, shoving a magazine in my face.
I stared, trying to calm my breathing. Not making a move toward him, I answered him calmly. "A magazine?" I said, seeming to make things worse.
Mr. Grant's nostrils flared in the second of silence we stared at each other, the words of Frank calming me the slightest, and as I looked back into that man's eyes, I was reminded of how much he meant to me. "Shut up." He snapped. "You didn't have to fucking make up that bullshit about leaving me for Andy Carl. If you felt nothing for me, you should've fucking said so."
I looked back at the idiot.
Oh Charlie, if only you knew...
"What the hell are you talking about?" I breathed out as he glared daggers and glass at me.
"He's getting married, but you obviously knew that." He spat, hands now trapping me between him and the counter I was leaning on.
"Okay?"
His voice rose, "And I know you told him to."
His booming shout echoed throughout my empty house, reminding me of how lonely things were without him. I remembered nights we'd stay up, cuddling, talking, having sex, laughing. I missed him.
But then I realized what he said, and my heart quickened in worry. Even if we hadn't spoken in weeks- or months, he still knew me. "How do you know he didn't leave me?" I asked in confusion, and he gave me such a hateful look I felt I lost him forever. That was supposed to be a good thing, too.
"Because he adored you."
Those words coming from his mouth hurt so much. They were just so wrong.
I could only stare at him quietly.
"So this was just for fun, huh. Well you should've fucking told me." I flinched at the raising in his voice and suddenly he pushed off, giving me space and allowing me to breath out in deep relief.
He began pacing the living room, Frank Sinatra singing a song I remembered falling asleep to. What I hated the most was remembering how I wasn't alone. Charlie fell asleep with me that night, stroking my hair and humming along to I've Got You Under My Skin.
He must've remembered, too, because he shut the speakers off and fell onto the couch, sitting with his posture broken and face in his hands.
"It wasn't just for fun..." I began, secretly adding on, it was fun for you. Because he didn't want anything serious. He didn't believe in love.
"Go to hell, Diana." He groaned out, as if saying my name was painful. It hurt hearing it, too.
"It was for Andy." I said in honesty.
"Liar." He said, more quiet this time.
"What, do you seriously expect me to let him throw away a life like the one made for him? That woman was literally created for him, for his company. I'd be a fool to take that from him, a life like that. Billions and billions of dollars, perfect children, a perfect relationship. I couldn't let him throw that away for some girl who was still in high school." I said, wishing he heard the painful truth in my words.
He didn't move.
"I wasn't using you, Charlie." I said sadly, sitting on the couch adjacent to him.
"So you did to him what you did to me?"
I guess I did.
I couldn't speak.
He shook his head, dropping his hands from his face and laughing quietly, bitterly. "You're such a bitch, Diana."
I know.
"It's for-"
"I swear to fucking god if you say it's for the best..." He stood up and glared down at me. "Emotionless fucking whore." He muttered as he turned to leave, slamming the door as he left.
I was about to start crying, but I remembered how pathetic that was. I couldn't cry, I was an emotionless whore. Crying would only prove him wrong.
I was beginning to believe him.
My life was suddenly an unsaid bet with myself, and I was trying to see how long I could go without crying and still keeping my sanity. I wasn't even sure if I was still sane, and part of me wished I could go to Chris about these things, but I knew I couldn't. Confidential or not, he was my older brother- my closest brother in age- and if he knew, I feared Charlie wouldn't be allowed to breathe much longer.
It was also then I realized I was stuck with this secret. I couldn't tell them, but I would be able to tell my father once he got back.
God I missed him so much.
He was my best friend, and that reminder had me missing my other best friend. Almost like my childhood best friend, the one whose life I saved.
The day was coming up and I was at a Toys R Us searching for a toy for my niece. I had no idea what children liked, and I ended up giving up. I was sitting at the kitchen table, legs crossed and a pencil in my hand. I was supposed to be finishing up extra calculus homework Mr. Joseph gave to me for practice. The only thing I really thought of then was those big blue eyes, those long dark eyelashes, and those sweet little baby hands. I wondered how I looked when I was a baby, and when I did, I perked up.
The pencil I had been holding was forgotten, and I hopped up from the table and went up the stairs to the attic. I hadn't been in the attic since.. I had never been up there before.
When I did, I let out a loud laugh. It was like a museum up there. So many boxes, and layered in dust. I had to cover my mouth with my shirt to avoid coughing and sneezing up my lungs.
I ran a finger across the face of each box, seeing beautifully written handwriting in pink marker. It was faded, and it seemed to sink into the cardboard as if it was created with those irrelevant words. I just knew by seeing it, it was my mother's handwriting.
Each box saying things like, Christmas stuff! and Ana/moms stuff!
My favorite part was going past the things with me and my brother's names on them. Baileys! And Austins! and Chris's! I smiled at each name that was followed by an exclamation mark. When I saw the first box with my name, it was like all time stopped. It was like, for a second, I had a normal family. I had a living, breathing beautiful mother, and a father with a nine-to-five job. That pretty handwriting with a heart above the i had written Baby Dianas! and I couldn't help the smile that came to me. The longing laugh that turned into a cough up in the dusted attic.
Ignoring the restraining-air, I opened the box, closing my eyes and holding my breath as particles of the dust rose from the box and floated in the air. I waved my hand, trying to move it from my path of breathing and gave up, soon diving into the box that had my name written onto it.
I expected it to be full of baby things. But it was filled with scrapbooks, old and tattered ones that looked to be falling apart. It was filling my curiosity, the reasons why I never remembered what she looked like. Not answering the reason why I never asked to see a picture. I took the largest one out and saw it wasn't mine, it was hers. Ana Valiant's pictures from birth to giving birth. My eyes stung through the dusty atmosphere, and I couldn't let tears cause them to catch on fire. I flipped through it. Her and her family, her as a teen, and then there was a jump of age. It went from her twelve year old birthday to her as a gorgeous woman. The Polaroid pictures had splotches on them, the writing smeared and unreadable. God she was so beautiful.
There were pictures of her with her own family. Pictures of my father with his family. With his parents. My mother's parent's looked stern. They didn't smile, but that beautiful little girl who was now buried underground, she smiled with grace. Even brighter than the children around her, her siblings.. Her mother with pearls and gloved hands, her father with a firm suit. My dad stood between two parents as well, two older brothers on the side. His father with a relaxed look, his mother looking almost as stern as my mother's parents. On the right of his father's face, along his jaw was a birthmark, like a beautiful cloud. I wondered how it was to have a cloud on my jaw.
Older pictures of my mother had me mesmerized. She had light brown curly hair and a dazzling smile. Her eyes were big and blue, a makeup free face in the close-up photos and her lashes were long and dark. She was so beautiful.
I couldn't stop thinking about it.
After going through scrapbooks and stacking them as pictures, I opened more boxes with my name on it. Each were different things, dolls, stuffed animals, baby clothes. I had so many hair ribbons, and soon I found my own baby pictures. It was funny, because for a second I felt like I was looking back at my beautiful niece.
The box that had me thinking of her the most was the one labeled To Baby Diana. And then as I opened it, I saw cracked wood pieces and a triangle roof of shiny glass. It was a beautiful torn-apart and neglected doll house. It was handmade, and I knew for a fact it had never used by me.
Carefully, delicately, I took out each broken piece of the wooden doll house using feather-like fingers. When it was all out if the box, there was one more thing that caught my eyes. The base of the entire broken house, underneath was that same pretty handwriting, only smaller and more controlled, in black ink.
To our baby girl. Your father and I put this back together with pride. It was once mine, and now it's yours! Hope you love it, and one day put it back together for your baby daughter. Can't wait to see you hold my grandchild, love you! - mommy & daddy
Oh.
I reread it over and over again, knowing my mother had once played with it. Wondering how it looked, and why I had never been able to play with it.
With a quick-beating heart, and clogged lungs, I gathered all of it and escaped down the stairs to start the gift to my niece.
...
"I'm so excited!" I giggled on the phone with my brother, painting a lily for my niece, Lily Valiant to hang in her room. It was her third birthday and I was so excited to give her the gift.
I had just came from the store to buy the things I needed to put together the broken dollhouse. It actually took forever but it was also really fun. My favorite part was after finishing it, painting the thick wooden side walls of the house a beige-brick-red color and adding the look of rose thorns and bushes that looked to climb up and into the glass windows. It was beautiful, a glass roof, and when it opened, there was a bedroom, a guestroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, a dining room, and an attic. It was like an actual house. It was huge, too.
I was able to clean the accessories that made it a full house. It had a small glass bathtub, a glass faucet and the beds were glass. The couches, the tables, strong glass that only really needed polishing. I painted the inside of the house, too, making the rooms have wooden floors and pretty colored walls. I was so excited. And after I finished, which took almost an entire week, I was one of the most proud people on earth.
I was on the phone talking to my brother while painting a lily for Lily. Austin was busy on the other line. "Excited? Why?"
"Because I just am. Hey, can I borrow your truck tomorrow?"
It was the day before the birthday party and I realized I needed something to bring the house in, and my jeep wouldn't do. He asked why. "Just come by tomorrow before the party and switch vehicles with me; I just need it for the party."
"Tell me why first."
"No, give me your truck please or I won't come."
He turned angry on me but agreed darkly. "Fine. Brat."
After he hung up I sighed at the memory of getting a text from Charlie, when we were still growing close. He jokingly called me a brat and that was when I just attracted to him. Then I wondered to myself if I had loved him all along. Maybe that's what the fear was, the frustration, the dislike.
When the next day came along I wore a pretty bright colored-floral dress for spring with shiny orange heels. It was the brightest thing I had worn all year, and it wasn't even that bright. I just felt light and springy, and better since winter was over. Even if I couldn't breathe well because of the attic dust that still was caught in my lungs.
It felt wonderful outside and after Austin left from dropping his truck off, I put the dollhouse nice and safe in the back, padding it with bubble wrap and covering it with a blanket. The painting was wrapped and I also had a small family picture in my sliders pocket under my dress to show my brothers. I was so excited.
...
I showed up pretty late, of course. Austin had called me a few times but I ignored him and parked out front, noticing that... he was there. And I knew Claire was there too.
It made me wonder what she'd say.
Or if he had ever told her.
I ignored all that and knocked on the door before taking the dollhouse. Bailey opened the door and grinned widely. "She's here!" He shouted to the packed-house.
"She better be, she drove my truck." I heard Austin grumble.
"Hold the door for me; please." I said, holding back the hacking cough from that dusty attic, feeling so excited and running over to the truck and holding it in my arms, trying to see where I was going.
I spared a look at Bailey as I walked in and he looked at me with shock on his face.
I walked through the entrance, feeling his and her presence immediately. I threw the hurt to the back of my mind the best I could, and focused on the day. It was for Lily only, and I was excited to give her the dollhouse and tried to ignore the feeling of his cold eyes on me. And hers...
"Excuse me!" I said, and everybody made way for me as I walked by, hearing people's gasps and admiration comments. I was so proud.
"Wow she's very happy." I heard James say, and I was. Even if I had a terrible cough.
That beautiful little girl grabbed her feet and had the most beautiful and wide eyes when seeing the house that I set down in the table in front of her. Soon that opened and confused mouth turned into a large grin and I was so happy in that moment, feeling the best I had in months. It was March, my nieces birthday, and everyone was so impressed.
"Happy birthday, sweet girl." I said, kissing her cheek.
My brother's lovely wife came by and embraced me so tightly. "Diana, this is amazing!" She looked to Lily. "Say 'thank you' to Aunt Diana."
Lily clapped her chubby hands and the audience laughed in adoration. "Thank you a lot, Aunt Ana," She said, saying my mother's name. "Ana."
My heart swelled as Austin shook his head. "No, baby, that's grandma's name."
I didn't care what she called me. She was so happy.
I coughed.
As I was suddenly attacked with questions and greetings, I spotted Bailey and Chris whispering to each other with stern and serious faces, and then Bailey went to Austin and said something. Austin seemed to nod in agreement and looked up, calling my name and nodding me over to speak privately.
I excused myself and went to him, feeling as if I was randomly being called into the principles office. They stood in the hallway leading towards the stairs and I looked curiously at them, waiting. It was strange, their sudden serious faces. Austin crossed his arms and looked behind me with a hint of paranoia. "Where did you get that dollhouse?"
I looked from Bailey to Chris to Austin and narrowed my eyes. "I put it together." I coughed.