Sparrow(52)

We didn’t care about the money. It was about betrayal.

After I quit my job at Rouge Bis, he sent me my paycheck to my dad’s house. I bet he knew I no longer lived there, that I moved in with Lucy, since now I could afford the rent. I appreciated him not giving away he was still watching me.

Or was he?

It was bad to want him to follow me around. It was even worse to hope to bump into his employees or associates just so I could feel that he was still in my life. But in all honesty, that’s exactly what I wanted. I wanted him, but was all too aware of the divide between us. Of its depth. Of the gravity of the lies our relationship had been built on.

He buried my dead mom in a forest and didn’t even tell me.

Knew where she was all those years and never said a word.

He forced me into marriage so he could inherit his father’s fortune.

He. Was. A. Monster.

And yet, I’d give anything to have this monster’s claws back on my body, his cold eyes roaming my face. I missed the talks, the banter and everything this monster made me feel. Troy was the devil, but he breathed life into me.

“Earth to Birdie.” Daisy snapped her fingers, her hot-red nails dancing close to my face, reminding me of the ruby ring I took off not too long ago. Its weight on my finger was unbearable without Troy in my life.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll take it.” I waved my hand, and both Lucy and Daisy jumped up in the air, hi-fiving each other.

“Group hug!” Daisy announced, and before I knew it, I was buried in my friends’ arms. I inhaled their scents, feminine and hopeful, closing my eyes, praying their happiness would seep into me. Sure, I was excited about chasing my dream. This was the original goal before he barged into my life. But now, even with this opportunity, these friends, that money—enough not only to build the career I wanted, but also to donate some to that homeless shelter down the road—life had an unpleasant aftertaste. Like nothing was going to be delicious again. Nothing would be blueberry pancakes and hot chocolate in the rain.

Nothing.

“I’m running into the office to tell them this one’s off the market.” Daisy bolted to the white trailer where the salespersons were watching us through the slits of their blinds.

They’d never come out to offer any help. I think they were under the impression that we were crazy. The truck was obviously hideous to anyone who wasn’t starting out a sugary crap business. I bet it had collected dust for centuries before we walked in and decided we were going to take it.

Lucy turned back to me when Daisy disappeared through the office door. “How’s your leg? Is your foot okay?”

I looked down to my cast. Every time I glanced at it, took a step or kept it dry when I was taking a shower, I thought about Brock. I supposed I should be more shaken by his death—the man died right in front of me. But the truth was he got what he deserved. The only things I couldn’t wrap my head around yet were the reason why my mom had left us, and Troy’s hideous secrets.

“Yeah, it’s a lot better.”

Lucy made a face like she knew exactly what wasn’t a lot better. That thing beating for no one inside my chest.

“It’s okay to miss him. It’s that Stockholm syndrome. It’ll go away.”

It won’t. I know it won’t.

“Sure.” I managed to flash her a smile.

Lucy offered me her hand, and I took it, as she helped me limp to the office to sign all the paperwork.

We were going to have our own business.

We were going to fulfill a childhood dream.

We were going to make freaking pancakes.

Then why did it all feel so pointless and sad?

“What if it’s not Stockholm syndrome, Lucy? What if it’s the real deal?”

“Then, my darling,” she said, speaking patiently, “destiny will find a way to get you two back together. Real love doesn’t disappear. It can turn into hate, and hate can turn into love, but those feelings won’t ever turn into indifference.”

She was right. Real love was cancer. All it took was one blink, and it would spread inside you like wildfire and consume you.

But that was okay, because I had a feeling that unlike cancer, real love didn’t die. Ever.





SPARROW




Six months later



“THREE…FOUR…FIVE blueberry pancakes,” Lucy shoved the paper plates in my direction, and I bent forward, handing them to the two women who stood at the front of the long line to our food truck. Jenna and Barbara. They were legal secretaries, and they came here twice a week. Would visit more, if it weren’t for their waistlines, they said. They always bought a few extras for other people in their office. Or at least that was their version of things.

“Thank you, Birdie. You know something is good if you think it’s worth the calories even after you eat it.” Barbara laughed through a snort. “Now I just have to muster the courage to get on the scale. I’ve been avoiding it like plague ever since I found out about your truck.”

“Oh, don’t even go there.” Jenna giggled, swatting Barbara’s behind. “These girls need to come with a warning. I’ll end up with type two diabetes if things continue this way.”

Barbara and Jenna scurried along, leaving me to serve the next people in line. A woman and a man. They looked in love and I tried hard not to hate them for it.

“Go help Lucy.” Daisy shoved me to the side all of a sudden.

I wrinkled my brow. We worked in a particular way, and never changed positions. I made our special batter before we opened up and took the orders, Lucy made the actual pancakes, and Daisy helped both of us where help was needed. But I didn’t need her help.

“I got this,” I said, but it only made Daisy pull me by the sleeve toward Lucy and the small kitchen.

“You can’t stand here.”

I pushed her away with my butt, “Why can’t I…” But there was no need to finish the sentence. I already knew. My heart dove so low, I could feel my pulse thump in my toes. If winter were a feeling, this would be it. Everything froze, and I felt ridiculously unprepared. Shivers ran down my back and arms, raising the hair on my arms.

Something foreign washed over me, not unpleasant, but not exactly good either. It’s like he grabbed me by my throat and pressed hard, depriving me of oxygen, yet made me feel so incredibly alive. I didn’t breathe, blink or move. Just stood there and watched him, mouth slightly open. Eyes slightly wide. Heart completely broken. My monster.

“Are you still serving?” A woman in line scowled, and Daisy immediately took her order.

I continued standing there, unable to budge even though I wanted to, bad. I wanted to walk over, say something.

I wanted to talk to him.

I didn’t want to talk to him.

He didn’t even notice the truck yet.

Over the past few months, I had taken every precaution to avoid the local papers and Internet sites. I did everything, other than migrating out of the country. My darkest nightmare was to stumble across a picture of Troy with one of his Catalinas on his arm. I knew it would crush my soul into dust. Physically, I was fine. My temple was healed, and so was my foot. The cast was off, and I had even started running again. But inside, emptiness ate away at every corner of my being. No amount of blueberry pancakes was going to fill that void. Trust me, I’d tried.

Lucy paced over to me, pointing the spatula at my face. “Go. Talk to him. Stop being such a wuss.”

But I couldn’t. He stood next to a man twice his age. They both wore sharp suits and were engrossed in deep conversation, probably work, and I didn’t want to interrupt. Yes, I was still his wife. I never had filed those divorce papers, didn’t give a damn about the money I so-called deserved. Troy hadn’t made a move to end our marriage either. But it seemed like we were together centuries ago. In a way, I almost feared he was a completely different person.

The man and Troy shook hands, and then the man spun on his heel, slowly fading into the crowd. Troy walked in the opposite direction, toward our truck. My breath caught in my throat. I looked around. There was no way he was going to notice me. The line was two blocks long and there was a good distance between us.

But Troy strode directly and purposely to the end of the line, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket and messing around with it, a smile on his strong face.

“Jesus,” I muttered.

“He knows.” Daisy grinned, still serving the people I obviously couldn’t communicate with anymore.

I was standing in her way. The window was too narrow for the both of us, but she knew how much I wanted to see him again. Needed to see him again.

Troy didn’t lift his head from his phone even once. He just kept on punching the screen incredibly fast, both thumbs on the touch screen.

Maybe he didn’t know? But of course he knew. He would never have a blueberry pancake from a food truck willingly. It wasn’t his style. No. He knew.

Closer…

Nearer…

The more Troy moved up the line, the more I felt like I was losing my grip on reality. Everything fogged around his silhouette, my eyes focused solely on him.

Maybe you’re not ready to face him yet, a nagging inner voice teased. Maybe you should just turn around and help Lucy, like Daisy asked you to.

“Breathe,” Lucy whispered, not lifting her eyes from the griddle as she flipped pancakes.