Mom stands slack-jawed while Dad cautiously shakes his hand and responds with firm politeness. “It’s good to see you again. Heard you’re signing my daughter on as your client.”
Again?
Ashton doesn’t even attempt a smile. “That’s the plan.”
I stay silent because there are too many things happening inside my head. I’m angry with my parents for their deceit,shocked that they somehow know Ashton, reeling over the existence of Noah, and now, I’m wondering if this whole thing with the book is even legit. Does Ashton truly think I’m a good writer, or does he just want my help finding Noah? And if he does think I’m a good writer, then is this a one-time thing? Am I only writing this story well because it’s an actual memory? At least part of it? Would I be able to completely make something up and write it well?
One thing at a time, Esme.And first things first…
I stand, fisting my hands on my hips. “You lied to me. Both of you.”
My parents’ eyes snap to me, their faces draining of color. Dad clears his throat and moves to stand beside Mom. He whispers something to her, and she nods mindlessly. Dad speaks first. “Esme, honey. We never wanted you to find out this way.” My stomach drops. Up until this moment, I think I was hoping it was all some elaborate “gotcha!” type of hoax. But it’s not. Everything Ashton said—it’s true.
I don’t miss how Dad’s gaze flattens and shifts to Ashton. That somehow angers me more. Ashton is the only one brave enough to be honest with me around here.
I cross my arms and cock my hip out like a petulant child. “You mean you never wanted me to find out. Period. No ‘like this’.”
“Baby,” Mom begins, but I cut off her pitying cry.
“No, Mom. You don’t get to ‘baby’ me. You lied to me. Both of you.” I cut my narrowed eyes to Dad before bringing them back to Mom. “And Ethan and Sam. You all said I was in a jet ski accident! All of you colluded behind my back and blatantly chose to lie to me. The very people I’m supposed to trust. The people I couldn’t even lie to about fake-dating Ashton because guilt was eating me up! I relied on you to tell me the truth about the three years’ worth of memories I’m missing. How could you?!” I throw my hands up in exasperation.
“Esme, let us explain,” Mom says, stepping toward me with an outstretched hand. I step back as if she’s a snake poised to strike. Mom swallows, drops her hand, then continues. “We were trying to protect you. You were in such a fragile, unstable state. Imagine hearing that truth when you woke up. Imagine hearing you had met a random stranger that you wanted to continue seeing when you got back home. That’s not who you are. It would have placed an unnecessary burden on you.”
“No, Mom! I’m not fragile. I wasn’t then, and I’m not now. I can handle the truth. You hid something so important to me that my psyche is bringing back the memories in a fictional format. Whatever happened on that island, I’m going to figure it out. I’m going to learn the truth. And whatever I did or didn’t do, whether what this Noah guy and I had was real or not, it’s my choice to make. Mine!”
I’m heaving, my throat raw from raising my voice. I can’t think straight; I’m furious. A hand rests on my elbow as if holding me upright, but I jerk away from Ashton’s touch and collapse onto the couch. “Go. Please go. All of you.”
Silence ensues for several moments until I hear shuffling feet and feel the rhythmic rock of the camper. Dad whispers something I can’t hear.
“I’m sorry, Esme,” Mom calls out through broken tears. I don’t meet her eyes. I don’t remove my face from my hands until the camper door closes. Anger burns through my veins, lighting me up from within.
“Well, I guess I’ll—”
I growl in frustration. “When do we leave for Bora Bora?”
Ashton blinks once, then twice, as if I’ve caught him off guard. Then I remember I told everyone to leave. I sigh and stand. “I’m sorry, Ashton. I didn’t mean for you to leave. Just them. I need space to figure this all out. I need to get away.” A derisive laugh escapes me, a tad unhinged and laced with disbelief. “I’m sorryyou had to witness that. I swear I’ve never combusted like that in my life.”
And secretly, it felt good.
It felt good to not cave. To stand my ground for once.
To speak my true feelings instead of trying to coddle someone who hurt me like I did when Lane broke my heart. That night he broke it off with me, and then I thanked him for teaching me the truth about romance… It still haunts me, and I loathe myself for trying to spare his feelings while I shattered into pieces.
Ashton is quiet for a beat, his face contemplative as his dark, bushy brows knit together. Finally, he says, “Your parents told us before you all left the hospital that we shouldn’t try to reach out. Melina said she would have you reach out if you remembered, and only if you wanted to. She said the doctor recommended not adding any more trauma on top of what you’d gone through.” Now it’s his turn to laugh with a cutting edge. “Noah, once he was healed, tried to contact them several times. The last time he tried, Gregory told him that he would file a restraining order if Noah didn’t stop trying to get in touch with you. It was a nail in the coffin to solidify my brother’s deep dive into depression. He respected your parents’ wishes, but no one seemed to think twice about the trauma and heartache he’d experienced.”
I’m dumbfounded. Speechless. But I’m a writer, so I find words even if they’re only first-draft worthy. “I am so sorry. They’ve always been the hovering type, wanting to make sure Ethan and I made what they perceived as the right and sensible choices in life. But this open deception? That’s new. And it’s not okay, Ashton. How they’ve handled everything… It’s not okay.”
“It’s not,” Ashton agrees, moving to sit beside me on the couch once more, our arms brushing one another. He mirrors my sullen state. “But it is what it is. Nothing left to do but continue to clear the air and learn the truth.”
“Which means we need to find Noah,” I state. Ashton is silent, but he nods.
“Are you sure he’s in Bora Bora?” I ask, rubbing my temples.
“Not at all,” Ashton says through a deep breath. “But I think it’s a solid guess. Noah likes to travel—liked to travel. Since Bora Bora, he hasn’t been the same. I feel like I don’t know my other half anymore.”
What Ashton means to say is that his twin hasn’t been the same sinceme.
“Ashton.” I take his hand and look him dead in the eyes, mustering all the confidence and sincerity I can in a situation like this. “We will find him. I will do whatever it takes. I want to know the truth as much as you want to find your brother. And I can’t stand the thought that there is someone out there who might have loved me and is now be suffering because of me.” I am determined to correct this mess my family made. Indignation motivates me. Acrimony guides my path.
