Page 101 of The Island Villa

“If you’re asking me if I’ve got used to the idea that my father wasn’t ever going to win a dad-of-the-year award, I’m not sure. I think it’s going to take some getting used to. But even though that’s true, I still wish I’d been more sympathetic about how she might be feeling. I wish I’d thought about her instead of making it all about me. I wish I’d told her that I understood. That I loved her. That I was sorry she’d been through all that. How could she have just collapsed? She’s never been sick in her life.” Cassie’s voice cracked and Adeline reached across and squeezed her sister’s hand briefly.

“Let’s not panic until we have something to panic about. I feel bad too, for never once wondering if there was more to her story.”

Regret, Adeline thought. One of the most common themes in the letters she was sent. They all started with the same words. I wish...

Things a person had said or hadn’t said. Things they’d done or hadn’t done. It was sad how many people held on to emotions and feelings and only released them when it was too late.

Was it too late for her? Because she was suffering from her own version of I wish. Regret tasted sharp in her mouth, like lemons.

It had never occurred to her that there might have been a hidden reason behind all her mother’s actions. She’d looked at it superficially through the eyes of a child, and maybe that was excusable, but what about later when she was older? She’d allowed herself to stay as that injured child and never stepped out of that place and questioned it.

Now, with information laid out in front of her, it was clear.

The signs of abuse had been there, but to see something you had to be looking, and she hadn’t been looking.

“Even if you’d asked,” Cassie said, “she probably wouldn’t have told you. She didn’t want to talk about it. If it hadn’t been for my stupid book and the fact that I was about to force the subject into the public domain, she never would have had to.”

“Your book wasn’t stupid. Your book was brilliant. You’re a very talented writer.”

Cassie sniffed. “Thank you. That’s all history now. I don’t even care anymore. The only thing I care about is that our mother is okay. As long as she is fine, I’m never going to complain about anything ever again. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Adeline reached across and gave her sister’s leg a squeeze and Cassie glanced at her.

“There’s something I need to tell you. I wrote to you. To Dr. Swift.”

Adeline smiled. “I know.”

“You knew? How?”

“I didn’t know right away, but something about that letter stayed with me.” Adeline felt a tug of emotion. “I assumed you’d forgotten about me. You had a whole life that didn’t have me in it. I assumed you didn’t miss me.”

Cassie swallowed. “That proves you’re not as smart as you seem.”

They arrived at the hospital, parked the car and rushed inside. Adeline was conscious of the echo of her heels on the floor and the soft tickle of her dress against her bare legs as it flipped and swirled with the movement. She doubted anyone had ever been more inappropriately dressed for a hospital visit but she didn’t care, because there was her father, his hair standing on end where he’d raked his fingers through it repeatedly, his eyes tired, arms waving as he spoke slowly and loudly, trying to give information to a woman in a uniform.

Relief flashed across his face when he saw Adeline and Cassie. “They’re examining her now. They wouldn’t let me stay with her. They need her medical history but my Greek isn’t up to it.”

Cassie took over, speaking fluent Greek, giving the staff the information they needed and then there was more waiting, and more self-recrimination.

“I shouldn’t have let her tell you,” her father said. “I should have done it myself, to protect her from it.”

Adeline put her hand on his arm. “Dad...”

“I know you don’t understand. You see all the reasons I shouldn’t be with her, but you don’t see the reasons that I love her. You think the pair of us are making a mistake, and there have been mistakes, that’s true—me letting her go in the first place, your mother marrying Rob and then that useless waster who only wanted her money, but the two of us? We’re not a mistake. We’ve just found each other again, Addy.” He slumped onto one of the chairs in the waiting area, childlike and helpless. “What if I lose her?”

Adeline sat down in the adjacent chair and put her arm around him. Her insides felt raw. Her throat stung with unshed tears. “Let’s wait and hear what the doctor has to say.” She tried to sound calm and rational even though she wasn’t feeling calm or rational.

Her father stared at his hands. “Our wedding is only days away.”

“I know, Dad.”

The weight of his worry almost crushed her. Her father’s pain was a living thing, agonizing to witness, and she knew then that even if she would never understand it, the love he felt for her mother was real. She had no right to question that.

She understood now that every relationship was a private world, a whole story where an outsider would only ever be given a glimpse.

He buried his head in his hands and she felt a wave of sympathy and also guilt. For better, for worse, he clearly adored her mother.

A large clock on the wall showed that fifteen minutes had passed. It felt like fifteen hours.

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