Chapter Three
Worth
The sky was so blue it was hard to look at for long without my eyes playing tricks on me. Even so, it had been so long since I’d had the freedom just to sit and look at the sky that I’d stayed out on the balcony of my sister’s guest house for hours every day since I’d gotten here earlier in the week. I would watch the clouds drifting across the sea of blue, looking for shapes in the wispy forms and laughing like a kid again.
At times, I would let my eyes drift down across the young grape vines, just starting to show promise in the field. I could almost feel the life in the soil, hear the vines growing and reaching towards the sun, soaking up the water the one time it had rained yesterday. At other times, I would look toward the horizon at sunset, and I could imagine the Pacific rolling toward the Oregon coast. I wanted to go to the coast soon to walk in the waves, maybe add a rock to the collection of rocks I had when I was young.
But then I remembered. I didn’t have that collection anymore. It was back in my old room, in my childhood home. He was there now, probably destroying everything in the home in a tantrum because of what I’d done. It was a sacrifice I’d had to make, but the pinch of sadness at losing not just my rock collection, but everything that had been my childhood, stung deep in the places where my heart lay shriveled in my chest. If I let myself dive into the feelings I had about everything that had happened, I might not surface before I drowned in the despair and self-loathing for what I’d let happen.
On that last thought, I curled up even tighter in the blanket I’d claimed from the bedroom on my first day here. It was soft and fluffy with a bright red background and vivid florals all over. It was vibrant and happy to look at. I wrapped myself in it wherever I was in the cottage, inside and out, like a kid with their blankie. There was a psychological reason there that could probably be someone’s thesis, but I told myself it was just because it was colder here. I wasn’t convincing anyone, including myself, with that explanation.
Lost in my thoughts, a sound from inside the house made me jump involuntarily. Bringing my hand outside of the blanket, I checked the time on my phone, and I knew who it was.
“Worth, are you still out here? You’ve been in this lounger all day again. Have you even eaten since I brought you breakfast?”
My sister, Megan, was going to be mad, but I could never lie to her sweet angelic face. We looked very similar even though we had different mothers. She had my same green eyes and blond hair. The child of an affair, she had come to live with us when her own mother had passed away unexpectedly. My father and mother had loved her like their own. When it came time for the will to be read, she had been given half of all the assets, but she’d turned the majority over to me. She hadn’t wanted a part of the family business or anything that went with it. All she had wanted was this land and enough to set up her own winery. The rest she had wanted to do on her own.
“No, I haven’t had anything, but I did make sure I drank water all day. I’m just under the weather, Meg, I’ll be okay. I need to rest, and I’ll be fine.”
Megan narrowed her eyes at me, and then her lips thinned. Damn.
“You’re not lying, but you’re not telling the truth either, Worth. What did that asshole do to you? You’ve gotten sallow. You have dark circles under your eyes. You aren’t healthy like you used to be. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’ve finally left him. I missed you so much, but I want to know what that asshole did to you so we can make him pay for it.”
Her eyes softened as she sat beside my curled form on the lounge chair. She lay down by me, snuggling up and wrapping me in her arms as best she could. Her soft voice floated over me, as she tried to reach me yet again.
“I know he abused you, Worth. I don’t know how, and I’m not going to ask. No, don’t tense up. Please, Worth, I love you. Jeremiah loves you, too. We’re not here to make you tell us what happened, but you’ve been a ghost for two years while that asshole took over your life and your assets. I know you told me you’d taken it all back, but, bubby, you should file changes if he hurt you.”
Tears filled my eyes and slowly slid down my cheeks when my little sister called me bubby. As a toddler, she had never been able to say Worthington, so she’d settled on her own name for me and stuck with it. It had been too long since I’d heard it.
“Sis, I don’t want to have anything more to do with him. I’ve filed divorce papers and told Mr. Travis to make it clear I’ll keep my mouth shut if he signs off without contesting. If he doesn’t, I’m going public with what happened, but I don’t want to talk about it unless I have to. Okay?”
Megan gave me a little squeeze, then stood up. “Okay, bubby. I won’t bring it up again. Just know I’m here if you want to talk.”
I nodded, and she nodded back. “Okay, it’s time for you to get ready for dinner. Jeremiah’s best friend is getting here any minute, and we’re having dinner together.”
I immediately shook my head. “No, Meg, I’m not up for a dinner party. I’ll make a sandwich here or something. Don’t give me that look. I promise I’ll eat. I just don’t want to people just yet. Please?”
She looked hesitant, but finally relaxed her shoulders a little, and I knew I’d won.
“Okay, fine, but you’re going to have to meet him tonight because he’s staying in the other bedroom here. Just be polite. He can be a little intimidating at first. He’s very intense, but he’s very nice once you get to know him.”
I had no intention of getting to know anyone, but I didn’t tell her that. I just smiled, wiping my eyes, and said, “Of course, I’ll be nice and polite. I may have been out of the world for two years, but I still remember my manners. Dad would be mortified in heaven if I forgot them, you know.”
Megan came over to me as I stood up stiffly from the lounge chair. She hugged me again, then kissed me on the cheek. As she made her way back into the house, she said over her shoulder, “Dad would be proud of you no matter what.”
I had my doubts that he would have been proud of what I’d allowed to happen the last two years. He would have been ashamed, I was sure. I know I was. In my mind, I knew it hadn’t been all my fault. I had been manipulated, brainwashed. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was to blame for all of it. I was so tired of feeling this way, but I didn’t know how to get over it. Maybe I needed some intense therapy. I snorted when I imagined being put into a straitjacket, getting hard because of the restraints, then asking them to beat me so I could come.
I was so fucked up.
I did as promised and went into the kitchen to make myself some food. Microwave mac and cheese with tuna wound up being my dinner, followed by a glass of wine. One glass a night wouldn’t hurt, plus it was from my sister’s vineyard. It would have been rude not to sample her hard work.
I took the bottle and glass back onto the porch after dinner. When I heard the door open and Jeremiah’s friend come into the cottage, I balled up as small as possible on my favorite lounger and practically crawled into the cushions. After he left, presumably for dinner with the happy couple, I finished my one glass. But tonight, after the first glass, I had another. Then I had one more. Before I knew it, I’d drunk the entire bottle. I wasn’t used to this, and the mac and cheese wasn’t helping to absorb any of the alcohol.
I must have dozed a while because according to my phone, it was almost midnight when I decided to head to bed. Getting up from the chair would have been easy, had I not gotten caught up in the blanket. I hit the deck on my knees, knocking over the bottle and the empty glass which both rolled across the deck and hit the railing with a crash. For no apparent reason, all of this was suddenly the funniest thing I’d ever seen in my life, so I let go. It had been so long since I could just laugh, so I laughed my ass off while still trying to stand up and get out of the blanket.
After a while, I gave up trying to stand and just sat there laughing, tears running down my face. It felt like a soul-deep release just to laugh without fear of punishment for it. Movement in the door to the house caught my attention, and I swung my head over to see who it was. Then I wished I hadn’t. I'd never be the same.
There was a god in the cottage. That thought had me snickering again, but I kept my eyes on this man’s face, convinced if I looked away, he would disappear. He was tall, comparing him to the doorway, I figured he was probably six-foot-three or four. I had turned on the outdoor lights tonight, so his face was illuminated. I was feeling fanciful, whole bottle of wine silly, so my first thought was that he was a fallen avenging angel, with long chestnut colored hair and eyes the color of molten silver. He looked unearthly, like he couldn't really be a part of the real world. To others, he might have looked scary or dangerous.
