Page 75 of Bittersweet Legacy

I turned on the shower, retrieved the flip phone from the soap bar box under my sink and sat on the toilet, holding the phone in my clammy hands, keeping my eyes glued on the clock when the clock switched to 9:00 I held my breath, willing the phone to ring.

Nine o’clock passed, and the phone remained painfully silent in my hand. As the minutes slipped slowly by, my heart sank more and more, my eyes filling up with tears as the last figment of hope to get any kind of help was fading. I was wondering where in the system did it break down. Did his cousin think I was unstable and get rid of the note without calling Ben? Had Ben decided I was not worth the hassle and didn’t want to get wrapped up in this after Caleb’s blatant threat to him? I wouldn’t blame him if that was the case. Did he fail to find Luke? So many questions I would never have the answer to as my heart sank deeper.

At 9:11 all hope had died; tears were now stinging my eyes. I took a deep breath, allowing myself a few minutes of despair before I needed to rethink a whole new strategy. I was not going down without a fight, I was -

My thoughts were interrupted when the phone started to vibrate in my hand, I looked down, dumbfounded for a second, waiting for my brain to catch up. Was it actually happening?

I fumbled as I flipped open the phone.

“Hello?” I breathed, my heart beating so wildly it was drumming all the way to my throat and ears.

“Esme? Baby is that you?”

I closed my eyes, leaning against the toilet. Hearing Luke’s voice was like balm on my soul. No matter what happened, no matter the lies, he was my family and, dare I say, the only person who loved me.

“Dad,” my voice broke under the emotion. “Dad, I miss you.”

He sighed. “Oh, Esme baby,” his own voice was quivering - a clear sign that his emotions were mirroring mine. “It’s so good to hear your voice, so good. Say it again, baby.”

“Dad…” I whispered.

He sighed. “I’m sorry I’m late. Ben only tracked me down today and the rehab centre doesn't accept visitors. Bless the boy, he threw a tantrum to get me that message.”

“He did?” Ben was always so calm, almost placid – it was difficult to imagine him throwing a fit for anything.

“The boy’s quite smitten,” he confirmed and this had the effect of a jab right in my stomach. Ben – lovely, hot as hell, reliable Ben – was smitten with me. Something he took way too long to act upon. He never gave me the real first kiss I’d been supposed to share with him, no, it was an experience I now shared with my fiancé… I still couldn’t associate Caleb with this and probably never would. And yet Caleb stirred a part of me Ben had never reached, he attracted me in ways that surprised even myself.

“I’m glad he came through,” I replied, deciding it was better to ignore this comment for now.

“Yes, and then communication devices are forbidden in here, so I had to find a rule-breaker willing enough to trust me and give me a phone.”

“It doesn’t matter if you’re late - you’re here.”

“Yes, I'll always be here for you, Esme – even if it’s my fault you’re stuck in there as a prisoner, forcibly engaged.”

“How?” I looked at myself in the mirror as I spoke to him, my eyes red from crying, I was so much paler than I used to be and the dark hue under my eyes was now shades darker than it used to be. This life was already taking a toll on me.

“I’ve been trying to keep tabs on you, baby, and I saw the engagement notice in the newspaper a couple of weeks ago. I’m sorry.”

I shrugged before realizing he couldn’t see me. “It’s OK.”

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t do this.”

“Yes, I did,” he replied, the guilt flagrant in his voice.

“What do you mean?”

“You wanted to go to Barnard College, I knew that – I saw the application for the school in your room, the scholarship forms.” He sighed. “You always deserved so much more than the life I gave you. Mediocre home, mediocre present, mediocre food, mediocre… life. I wanted you to have this one – you, no, we,weneeded this win.”

“Okay…” I trailed off, not sure where he was going with this.

“Your mom left me a note if I ever really needed something, something urgent and critical I could contact J. Astor in Stonewood.” He let out a humorless laugh. “He seemed quite enthusiastic to hear from me, he promised to finance the whole bill, accommodation and allowance included.”

“What happened then?” I couldn’t be mad at him; he did all this for me. If anything, it made me feel guilty for making him feel shit about our lives. I never intended for him to find out about Barnard. It was just a silly dream that appeared when I watched a documentary. I wouldn’t have said anything unless I got enough scholarship funding to go here.

“I got a call from William a couple of days later and I knew there was no point in running, that man has more power than you and I could ever comprehend, and we had lost the only advantage we ever had when he found out you were alive.”

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