Things Remembered (Accidentally On Purpose Companion Novel #3) (33 page)

BOOK: Things Remembered (Accidentally On Purpose Companion Novel #3)
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“Let me worry about the firm,” I said. “Maybe we can expand and open a second firm, or maybe I can move on and do something else. As for Emmya, it’s
your
business, Donya. You can move it wherever the hell you want to. Besides, you’re already doing a lot of running back and forth to New York. You said yourself a few times that even though Chicago has its own fashion scene, it will never be able to contend with New York. Maybe that’s where you should be.”

I felt a new excitement coming from her, and a hopefulness I hadn’t sensed in her in a long time, but she was also cautious.

“But what about Rosa? She loves Kaitlyn. They’d be broken hearted if we split them up.”

“We wouldn’t be splitting them up. It’s not like they’d never see each other, they’re cousins. We can send Rosa to Chicago during the summers, or Katie can come stay with us. They’ll be okay. Kids are resilient.”

“And Emmy? She works for me.”

“And she can continue to work for you,” I said reassuringly. “In this day and age, she doesn’t even have to be on the same continent to work for you.”

“So…” A pregnant moment passed. “We can actually do this? We can come back home?”

“Of course we can, baby.” I gave her hand a squeeze and flashed her a smile.

Her smile was so dazzling that it blinded me even with my sunglasses perched on my face. My heart expanded as I felt her happiness and elation. I was jubilant to be in a position to have given her something that she wanted.

Right then, I wished that we weren’t in traffic on the turnpike, because I wanted to kiss her and taste the joy on her lips.

“If we move away, where will Owen live?” A sleepy voice asked from the backseat.

I peered in the rearview mirror, but couldn’t see Rosa where she sat behind me.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” Donya said, looking into the back at our daughter.

“What happens to Owen if we move away?” Rosa questioned.

Donya and I looked at each other, both of us horrified and ashamed to have forgotten that important, monumental detail. It wasn’t that we had forgotten about Owen himself, but we were so accustomed to having Owen with us, that we didn’t stop to remember that our custody of him was shared with Casey and her husband, Tyrone. We couldn’t just take him with us and neither of us would want to take him away from his mom. However, without having to say it, we both also knew that we couldn’t possibly leave him behind, either. Donya loved Owen as if he were her son by blood. It would be the same as leaving Rosa or one of the other children behind.

She swallowed hard, and all the optimism that was just on her beautiful face fell away, but she forced a smile for Rosa.

“We were just thinking about it, Ro,” Donya said dismissively. “Just something to talk about while we’re on the road.”

“Okay, good, because I don’t want to leave Wowo behind.”

“We won’t,” I promised.

Rosa didn’t say anything more, but neither did my wife. She turned the radio up, and still holding my hand, turned her gaze to her window. Occasionally, she’d hum along to a song as she tried to pretend that she was fine, but she wasn’t. Her disappointment covered us like a blanket all the way to Philadelphia.

 

 

Later in our hotel suite, as we prepared to head out, I closed our bedroom door and blocked out the sound of the television and the chatter of the kids in the living room.

Donya stood in front of the mirror brushing her long, dark hair. Her light eyes were distant, and I knew why.

“It’s not the bitter end of it all,” I said to her, wrapping my arms around her waist. I looked at our reflections in the mirror, her beautiful dark skin against my fair skin.

She sighed and offered me a small smile. “I know it isn’t, but it’s not going to happen anytime soon, so I may as well get it out of my head.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” she said, admonishingly. “It’s no one’s fault. I was excited about the idea of moving back, but thinking about leaving Owen…Emmet, it makes me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t even fathom doing it. Nothing in the world that I want is so important that I’d put it before our children.”

“Maybe when he is older, we can revisit the idea,” I suggested.

“It will be the same thing. We’d be taking a child away from his mom or leaving a child behind. Neither of those is appealing.” She squared her shoulders and inhaled deeply, fortifying herself and making a solid decision. “We’ll stay in Chicago. I’ll make it work, business-wise. I have so far. Besides, home is wherever you and the kids are. If I never set foot in this state again, I will be okay as long as I have you guys.”

I turned her around and pulled her against me.

“I just want you to be happy,” I said, looking into her beautiful eyes.

“I
am
happy, Emmet.” Her smile was genuine and full of love, and almost erased her disappointment from earlier.

She put her delicate hands on my face and kissed me before I could say anything more.

Kissing Donya always made my heart ache with the amount of love I had for her. I was always humbled that our love could be so big, so cosmic; limitless, without end, like the universe.

We broke apart when our hands began to wander, because as much as we’d like to stay cooped up in the room and make love all afternoon, we had somewhere we had to be.

“What if we bought a shore house near Leo’s and Tabitha’s?” I proposed as she went back to brushing her hair.

She paused again and looked at me. “You know, I’ve thought about that, too. It’s starting to get tight in that house. Maybe we can buy our own.”

“Right. Then we can come out here every summer if you want. We can definitely bring Owen with us most of the time.”

“And since it will be our own house, we can come out here whenever we want.”

We grinned at each other.

“Can we start looking online tonight?” Donya asked. I could sense her excitement again. It wasn’t as much as it had been earlier, but it is was there.

“Yes. I mean…you know if we don’t wear each other out.” I winked at her. She laughed, but only briefly before it faded and her brow creased with worry.

“If we’re not going to move back, I’ll still have frequent trips to New York. I’ll practically have to live here in the weeks leading up to Fashion Week.”

“I know,” I said as easily as I could. She was worried about how our time apart would affect us.

A long time ago, before either of us had any children, when we were young and hopeful and stupid, we each had our own pursuits in life. I wanted to attend law school and become an attorney at one of the most prestigious schools in the country. Donya wanted to be a supermodel and travel the world. While I was still struggling through school, she had already begun to accomplish her goals. By the time she was eighteen years old, she
was
traveling the world modeling, acting, and meeting the very wealthy and the very famous.

We’d both made a lot of missteps and bad decisions over the years, but one of my biggest errors was trying to make her choose between her career and me, instead of making it easier for her to have both. So many years had come and gone, but she still remembered that, and it made her hold back.

Donya’s skill, designs, and the quality of her work were comparable with some of the biggest names in the business. Her brand, Emmya, could hold its own in any arena. It could be a lusus naturae, a giant amongst giants if she did not hold back. She held back, however, because of me—or to be more precise—because of a version of me from a time long gone.

Above my own needs and desires, above almost everything else in the world, I wanted to make my bride happy. I wanted her to have everything and anything that she desired and deserved. I wanted her to know that she could have our family, she could have me, and she could have her career without consequences.

A long time ago, I had told her that I would follow her anywhere and that I would support her, but then I’d failed her. I didn’t know how to convince her that I would never fail her again. I didn’t know how to make her not hold back.

I took her brush away and tossed it onto the bed before pulling her close. “So, you’ll have to go away sometimes. What is a little distance between us? It’s nothing. If you were on the other side of the world, it would be nothing. We are tied together, bound by a love bigger than the whole universe. I’ve told you that before, and I meant it. Wherever you will go, I will follow, and if my body can’t be with yours, my heart always will.”

I dragged a thumb across her soft cheek, wiping away the tears that began to fall.

“You are amazing,” I whispered. “You are an amazing mother, an amazing wife, and you are amazing with your career. Don’t hold back anymore. You are meant to do amazing things, Donya Elizabeth Grayne, and I am so damn honored and humbled to be the man who has your amazing heart.”

I kissed her and stole her breath and tasted her tears. My arms held her against my body, and I suddenly felt like we had on too many clothes. I knew that we didn’t have much time, and the kids were just on the other side of the door, but I wanted her and I needed her. I needed to become one with her on a physical level.

Before I could consider it any further, I carried her away from the mirror. I playfully tossed her onto the massive bed. She bounced once with a startled giggle as I reached for one of her boots and began to pull it off her slender leg.

“Go lock the door,” she said with urgency, waving me away.

I did, and as I walked back to her, I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled down the zipper. Donya had gotten both boots off and was shimmying out of a pair of leather pants. I took myself in hand as I impatiently waited for the pants and the black thong beneath it to be gone. I ducked down and kissed her again before pushing her back on the bed. I moved over her until my erection was nestled between her sweet thighs. A moment later, I slid inside her and lost my breath.

She moaned softly as her legs wrapped around me and her arms folded around my neck. As I moved inside her, we both groaned and whispered curses against each other’s lips. She was warm and slippery and snug, and she fit me perfectly, as she did in all things.

I wanted to stay inside her for long hours. I wanted to taste her moans, feel the vibration of her groans in her chest, and hear her say my name as if it were the only word her mouth could form. But we didn’t have the time. It was not our day. The day was for someone else that we loved, and we could not be selfish.

It was over too soon. I trembled lightly on top of her, and she shuddered with pleasure with her nails still in my back. I kissed her once more before moving off her. I got to my feet and held out my hand to help her sit up. I knew we both wanted to revel in the afterglow, but we had to leave.

A short time later, after we were in the car and on our way, Donya took my hand and I felt her eyes on me as I navigated through traffic.

“I love you,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

Her disappointment had vanished. Her uncertainty was a thing of the past. I could feel her gratitude. I could feel her uncontainable happiness.

I felt her unfathomable love.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Mayson

 

“I’m so nervous,” I whispered to Grant while a congresswoman wrapped up her speech on the podium.

“Try to relax,” he whispered back, drawing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. “You got this, baby.”

“What if I fall off the stage? And my skirt goes up? And everyone sees my Spanx?”

He tried not to laugh, but he did. He silently shook beside me, not at all sorry for laughing at my possible humiliation.

I’d had eight months to prepare myself for it, but I still did not feel ready to give a speech to over a hundred people—not including the few members of the press that were in attendance. The guest list included police officers, medical professionals, psychologists and social workers, law professionals, several of our current clients, and many others. Kyle and Lily were just behind me, and my mother, Aaron, and Taylor were in the audience.

Almost immediately after telling Grant and Kyle my idea to help rape victims, we got to work on creating the Chrysalis Center. Grant began searching for a viable location and chatting with some people he knew that would want to help. Kyle threw in millions of his own money to help fund my venture, but he also began to reach out to his affluent acquaintances. Together, he and Grant also handled the business end of things, because I knew nothing about running companies or organizations.

Meanwhile, I tackled the enormous task of first building a solid team to get started with and then collecting the trained professionals. Though I found plenty of people in law enforcement that wanted to help, Officer Caine nor any of his fellow police officers wanted to make friends. I had a big, double-decker, megaton bus with their name on it in my speech. They were going to get a good look at my bus’s undercarriage.

My cousins also contributed to Chrysalis. They all gave money without any prodding from me, but Emmy and Tabitha spent long hours on the phone and sending emails as they helped me gather resources and establish contacts. Donya was instrumental in getting the C Center the attention it needed from the public. They were all so eager to help, despite the fact that they all had very busy lives already.

I tried not to frown as I felt their absence at the ribbon cutting ceremony. I understood why they couldn’t be there; I especially understood because I, too, had a family to care for and a full-time job as well. In fact, we were all so busy with our lives that we had to cancel our family beach trip. They all promised to watch the live internet stream of the ceremony, though, and that helped ease the ache a little bit.

“And now let’s give a warm welcome to the founder of the Chrysalis Center, Mayson Grayne.”

“That’s you,” Grant whispered in my ear over the sound of applause. “You got this, Baby Girl.”

To my surprise, he stood up when I stood up, and quickly kissed me on the mouth. That small, simple kiss gave me the fortification I needed to make my legs move and to get me to the small, square dais. After climbing three steps, I shook hands with the congresswoman and thanked her in a low murmured voice for her support.

When I got to the podium, I didn’t immediately look out into my audience. I made sure my notes were in place first and took a deep breath before raising my head. I almost cried out with astonishment when I saw several familiar faces in the crowd. Sitting with my parents and sister in one long line were Emmy and Luke, Donya and Emmet, and Tabitha and Leo.

They came! They came to see me at one of the most important events of my life! I knew they must have made some sacrifices to be there for me, especially since they didn’t have any of their children with them. It made me wonder what poor soul got roped into babysitting all those minions and I almost laughed aloud.

“Hello,” I said to the audience, but let my eyes linger a little longer on my family, letting them know that I knew they were there. “My name is Mayson Grayne and I am a recovering heroin addict.”

I let that soak in with a dramatic pause before continuing.

“I
loathe
substance abuse meetings and having to stand up and say any variation of that line,” I explained. “I used to believe that the premise of the meetings was ludicrous. How could one broken person fix another broken person? How could it possibly help me to know that someone else’s life was just as screwed up as mine? Well, to be honest, I still hate those damn meetings.”

With my mischievous smile in place, a few people felt free to chuckle at my declaration.

“Bear with me, because it’s going to seem that I am wandering off track. I promise you that I’m not.”

I paused again and looked down at my useless notes. They were useless because they were formal and polite, but there was nothing formal and polite about the purpose of the center. I needed to be me. I needed to be Mayson, real and maybe a little harsh.

“Twelve years ago while I was in North Carolina visiting with a friend, I got high with the wrong group of people,” I said, looking back out at the small sea of faces. “Several of them raped me. When I came out of my drug-induced stupor, I immediately went to the hospital. I endured the hours and tediousness and humiliation of a rape kit. I answered the mortifying, detailed questions that the police asked me. The staff and the police were all very kind to me that day, though, and I appreciate that, but that kindness did not last. You see, I was so…messed up that day, that I don’t remember much about the violation. I don’t remember faces, but I remember being held down. I remember struggling. I remember their laughter and some of the cruel things that they said. I remember waking up covered in the bodily fluids of those men. Furthermore, the rape kit held proof of injuries that were consistent with rape. I had been choked, bruised, and bitten. There were
seven
different samples of DNA found on and inside my body.”

All traces of humor were gone. I heard a lot of sniffing, and a few people sobbing quietly. One of those people was my mom.

“Late last year, I encountered a man that I suspected was one of my rapists, right here in Philadelphia. I could have just made a phone call, but I flew down to North Carolina to take what little information I had to the police precinct that had handled my case. The detective I spoke to told me that my rape kit had been destroyed. I had suspected as much before I arrived. There had been reports in the media about kits getting lost or destroyed. I was prepared to hear that news. What I wasn’t prepared to hear were his reasons
why
. It wasn’t a mistake. My kit wasn’t lost. It wasn’t just because there were no hits on any of the databases. This…man…” I said carefully, gripping the sides of the podium. “This…
detective
…a representative of the authorities, the very people who are supposed to serve and protect…after implying that I purposely injected ketamine with my heroin—which you may know as a date rape drug—told me that he didn’t understand how I was able to actually know what had happened to me since I was so confused. He said that my accused rapists could argue that I ‘like to get kinky’ when I’m high. When I told him about the clear evidence in the rape kit, he said that my kit was destroyed because my injuries could have been consistent with sex games. In other words, despite the pictures of my injuries, my torn clothes, and the DNA in my kit, this man and the people that trashed my rape kit didn’t believe me because I had been on drugs. They disregarded me as if I didn’t matter.”

I inhaled a few shaky breaths as my eyes flitted about before my gaze finally landed on Taylor. She would be seventeen in a few short months. Several of the girls that had come into Chrysalis were around her age, one was only fourteen years old. I saw Taylor’s face every time I looked at those other girls, and it always made my stomach twist to think that it could happen to my baby sister, or to my Natalie when she is older, or any of the young girls I loved. Someone could violate them, and their claims could be thrown away.

“I wish I could say that this was a rare occurrence, but the unfortunate reality is that this scenario is all too familiar in many cities around the nation. The problem isn’t just the lack of believing in the victims, there are many problems with the system for sexual assault victims. There is a serious lack of communication between all parties involved, which could lead to a severe delay in rape kits getting tested. There’s the fear and stigma associated with sexual assault which may prevent victims from reaching out for help or even pursuing a criminal case so that the kits
can
be tested. There is also the aftermath to deal with. How do you learn to put one foot in front of the other and walk with your head held high again? Without looking over your shoulder or distrusting every stranger you meet? Here at Chrysalis, we will assist victims with all this and more.”

I cleared my throat and folded my hands in front of me.

“In case you are unaware, a chrysalis is the protective barrier in which a caterpillar transforms into a butterfly. We want our clients to come here and to feel safe. We will do everything we can to get justice, but…sometimes there is no justice. Sometimes there is no closure. Those are sad truths. But…” I lifted my chin a little higher. “Take it from me. You
can
move on. You
can
grow and transform. You
can
learn to be happy again. You can be
empowered
. You
can
heal.”

I took another deep breath and forced a small smile.

“Now. Back to those dreaded meetings. On my journey to establish and open the Chrysalis Center, I met a lot of other women. Many times, we sat together and shared our experiences, and you know what? We
were
able to help one another. We
were
able to learn from one another. We all agreed that we are stronger for it. So, we will be incorporating meetings into the healing process here, except we won’t be introducing ourselves as victims.”

I stood up straighter and spoke in a powerful voice that needed no microphone to carry across to my audience and beyond.

“I am Mayson Grayne. I am a survivor.”

 

 

After the ceremony, many of the guests reconvened at Lily’s, the restaurant Lily owned. She had not only donated the space for the celebration, but she had also donated the large banquet of food. The party was an unexpected surprise for me. Apparently, Grant, Lily, and Kyle had put the plan in motion as soon as they knew the date of the ceremony.

I expected a lot of tension between Kyle and Emmy, and all my other family members that wanted to dismember him. However, by tacit agreement, everyone decided to put their differences aside. Luke later told me that he didn’t want to take anything away from my accomplishments by bringing his own grievances with him through the door. I believed him because there was no tension and no weirdness between Kyle and Emmy.

Once I realized that there would be no brawls, I began to relax. I wasn’t sure how temporary the peace treaty was, but I wanted to take advantage of it while I could.

“Can I have everyone’s attention?” I called out. Most people stopped talking and turned to watch me at the front of the room, but a few needed a little more encouragement. “Hey! Shut up for a minute!”

When I was sure that I had everyone’s attention, I nodded with satisfaction.

“I want to thank everyone for coming out today. It really means a lot to me. I don’t even have the words to tell you how good I feel having all of you here. I know many of you had to make some adjustments to get here. You have kids missing school and you’re missing work and leaving your businesses behind. You all know where I’ve come from and what kind of person I was and the obstacles I’ve had to overcome to reach this point in my life. I am very grateful that when I came through the other side that you all were still there, waiting for me to pull it together. I feel honored that I now get to help others. So thank you for being sneaky bastards and planning all this behind my back. I am really…” I nodded as I tried to find the words and not cry. “Really grateful,” I finished, swallowing hard.

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