Page 62 of Bittersweet Legacy

“Yes, a day, just the two of us, in Port Harbour. A day where you will not be Caleb Astor and I will not be Esmeralda Forbes. A day where we will be just Esme and Cal - two people who are not rich, just normal teens who are engaged because they love each other and not because they are forced to be. A day where you pretend not to hate me.”

“Couldyoupretend not to hateme?” he asked with a challenging smile.

At least he was not shutting me down. It was already better than I expected. “I don’t hate you, Caleb.” I admitted truthfully. I didn’t hate Caleb or Archie. No, I was angry, hurt and somehow resigned, but most of all I was sad for them. Sad for the childhood they had, what a loveless life turned them into. I kept wondering what it took to turn that luminous boy into the cold, dark heart standing in front of me.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What do you have to win?”

“A sweet memory, something that will stay with me and I’ll be able to call upon when the days are rough.” The best lies were always tinged with truth and none of my words were lies. I didn’t want my experience of this world to be all bad. Once I escaped, I wanted to have some good memories. I had Taylor, I had Theo – maybe I could have one good day with Caleb.

“It’d be an artificial memory, a fake one – how would this be worth anything?”

How could I explain to him it was as much a present to him as it was to me? I wanted him to see that there was some good in this life, some fun, a certain carelessness I was pretty sure he’d never experienced before.

“This is stupid” he continued, still eyeing me with suspicion.

I shrugged. “For you, maybe. You asked me what I wanted, this is it. You’re always saying you’re a master manipulator and that people only see what you want them to see. Make me believe in Cal, make me believe you care, make me believe I matter… make me believe you love me.”

Uncertainty showed on his face before he looked away toward the house, to the remaining guests leaving his home, I knew my father would come for me in a minute. The charade had been a success and I couldn't help but wonder what my father was going to give me as a reward.

“Choose something else,” Caleb demanded, finally looking back at me, his face full of determination. “Jewellery, cars, clothes…”

I sighed, yeah, I should have known that all he could give was money – he was too far gone to even pretend. I shook my head. “No, I’m not into stuff.” I forced a smile. “Thanks anyway for considering it.” I pointed toward the house. “Almost everybody is gone now, I better go meet my father. Bye, Caleb.”

I walked away, my back straight, and I could feel his eyes on me the whole way inside.

Chapter 14

WalkingBrentwood’s halls on Monday after my engagement, I felt like I was in a fishbowl with this giant diamond on my finger.

I hated the weight of the speculative looks on me, the glances full of venom the girls were throwing me were oppressing.

I usually let them slide, but I was an emotional mess after everything and I just wanted to forget it all. But how could I do that when I was under the spotlight?

Also it had been easy to deny it was real whilst nobody knew about it, whilst I didn’t have his ugly ring on my finger reminding me every second of every day that if I didn’t disappear I would be stuck as a decorative socialite wife like my mother before me and I could feel the despair that transpired in the journal settle in me.

Everything was real now, it was in the newspapers, it was on my finger, it was in people’s eyes – I belonged to Caleb Astor.

“Just smile,” Taylor appeared beside me. “They are just jealous bitches,” she added, giving one group of girls a matching glare

“Because of Caleb?”

“Damn, no. The cake was amazing!”

I laughed, leaning against her as some of my anxiety faded. “Thank you for being here.”

“I was meant to ask on Saturday night but you disappeared, can you actually walk?”

“Walk?” I frowned

“With that rock on your finger.” She rolled her eyes. “Leave it to an Astor to pick the most obnoxious ‘look-at-me’ piece of jewellery.”

“Yeah…” I grimaced, looking down at my finger not admitting it was my pick. “It’s not so bad.”

She laughed. “No, it’s ugly. Don’t need to pretend you like it because it’s a Carbonite. I know we do lots of ugly stuff.”

“Yeah… it’s not the best,” I admitted.

She sighed as the teacher called us back to order. “You’ll see, by lunchtime it’ll be old news.”

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