Time's Forbidden Flower (30 page)

Christopher’s eyes close me off, and I feel a barrier suddenly brick in his emotions. “Lilyanna, please stop. I don’t know why you think this is fair to either of us.”

I bring myself to sit, trying not to sound defensive as my heart fights his rejection. However, my pain has burdened me for so long that I can’t help but feel like a part of me is attacking him. “Christopher, what do I have to do to get you to talk?”

Christopher’s eyes tell me my concern was likely justified. He bolts out of bed and faces me, completely on the defensive. “If you want to talk, why don’t you call Donovan? You always have so much to share.”
 

The door shuts behind him with a cringe worthy slam that reverberates pain in my heart, leaving me to another night of weeping. Even though I’ve never been certain how he would take the news of Donovan and I, never, ever did I think Christopher would be such an extremist. How can this man who holds so much compassion be willing to shred a heart over something he can’t understand?

One month. Exactly one month ago today disaster struck. Some way, some how, no one is the wiser as to my situation. How I have kept it to myself is bewildering. Each day I rise, paint on a smile, go to work, come home, tuck my children in bed, then wash the smile away with tears.

Today that changes.

Christopher sits in the basement while the children and Eric play outside. Nervous energy jitters through me as I head down the stairs. This is it. I’m going to confess everything and hope I can do it in a way that keeps my marriage in tact. If I fail, I’ll pick up the pieces and do what is best for my children, even if it means being exiled.

Christopher stands, looking through some music. When his eyes rise to mine, he gasps a breath.

“Christopher, we are going to talk.”

He tosses down the stack in his hands onto his desk, forcing himself to stand tall and composed. “I suppose it has to happen eventually.”

I stand strong, committed to the task. “About what was said that day—”

“Lilyanna, the truth is out. Until you find a way to convince us both that a problem does not exist, all we can do is put the children first and ignore the rest the best that we can, which we both know is bloody impossible. Now just play along and let everyone think all is right, though we both know it never will be.”

“So you won’t let me talk and I’m supposed to spend my life ignoring the truth?” I can’t do this anymore. I
won’t
do this anymore.

“If that’s what it takes, then yes.”

“Well maybe you can live your life in denial, but I no longer can.” Storming up the stairs, I head out to the garage with my purse, keys, and a resolution to fix my life.

The benefit of Anna’s rehab stint was short lived. A few days after she was released, Donovan left the house on his own accord and dropped Sunshine off with Eric in another attempt to shelter her from reality. Donovan and I are rendezvousing at his motel to create a plan of action. He wanted time to give Anna an honest shot at rehab, and I’ve been trying to save my marriage. Thus, Donovan has no idea how Christopher has treated me, only that all has collapsed and I am done.

My veins become tingling rivers of happiness as I knock on the motel room door. Closing my eyes in anticipation, Christopher’s image appears. Damn it! He said I could live any way I see fit. Since he won’t even succumb to conversation, he certainly isn’t allowed haunting privileges.

Donovan’s voice carries through the door as he opens it. “And every time you hear it’s getting worse you freak out,” he yells into the phone. His smile radiates with a joy I haven’t seen in years as he draws me through the threshold and into his arms. His unreserved touch brings my heart and soul into complete harmony with his. God, how I’ve missed him.

Anna fights the battle so boisterously I can discern every word. “Because there is no way you are going to stay with me. Why would a man like you want to be around a mutilated woman he doesn’t even love?”

Call me cold, but if she would learn how to use a stapler properly, mutilation wouldn’t be an issue.

“That’s not true,” Donovan says into the phone. “You know I love you.”

“Not like you love Lily,” Anna yells. “You told me right after we met that she was the only woman you would ever love.”

Wait, Anna knows about us?

Donovan kisses my forehead, then steps away, yelling into the phone. “And you told me that I was the only man you ever trusted, which is how we got together in the first place. Do you love me Anna? Have you ever loved me? Be careful how you answer because I am going to make myself clear. Freak out one more time, or cancel that appointment next week, and I’m gone for good.”

I beckon Donovan to accompany me on the bed, eager to rest my head on his chest. Judging by past experience he should have a week, two tops until she flips again.

Unwilling to wait a moment longer, my lips get lost in his neck as my hand slides into his pants. Holy God, he’s not wearing any underwear. My action brings his grin almost up to his eyes, and everything south of my waistline tingles.

“Fine! Here’s your answer,” Anna screams through the phone. “You claim you care what happens to me? Fine, I’ll get a mastectomy and suffer through chemo, but I won’t do it here.”

My breath freezes at the word that terrifies all women.

“Where else would you do it?” Donovan asks Anna as his eyes beseech forgiveness for withholding her secret. “One of the reasons we came here was so you could visit the treatment center at UCLA.”

I slip next to him so the phone now resides between us, making her words even clearer. “Anywhere but Southern California,” Anna shrieks. “If I’m going to fight I need to know you are in this with me. We either leave and forget Lily exists, or you let me go off to die. I will not be mutilated in front of her.”

Dear Lord, please let me have heard that wrong. I can’t steal the husband of a dying woman no matter how much of a banshee she is.

Ending the call, Donovan’s face as he addresses me reflects how he feels Anna’s suffering. “That’s what I wanted to talk about before we decided anything.”

“Please tell me I didn’t hear the M word. I can’t even bring myself to say it.”

“Yeah, and chemo. She should have done it over a year ago, but she wanted to try alternative medicine. It seemed to be working, but then things turned for the worse. Now she’s without a choice.”

“And she takes the resulting aggressions out on you?”

“Every drop of it,” he says without reservation.

“And her diet?” I ask.

“A combination of macrobiotics and poor body image. Macrobiotics might have worked if she didn’t have conflicting priorities. Lily, I’ve done everything I could to ensure she has access to every possible option. I’m in debt up to my ears. Through it all Anna has become more and more of a monster. Though I’ve never been truly happy with her, at least I was content for a while. Now even that is gone. More importantly, I need to protect my daughter. Anna goes through great lengths to keep me around, but she fails to do the one thing to make me feel I can stay, which is to focus her aggressions constructively. She’s a lot like Mom. Every time I think I’ve found a way out, she springs another trap. How much more abuse can I take before I flip again?”

Touching my hand to his heart, I enquire about my selfish fear. “Do you think she’s really serious about moving?”

“I know she is, and if you and I leave with Sunshine I’m betting Anna will be gone from this earth before we are out of the state.”

“So it’s either we run off and she does what she does or you leave with her?”

“As of now, yes, which means we really need to stop and think about our actions, and we don’t have much time to get creative.”

It was only a matter of time.

Lying alone in a motel room, talking about our woes, the inevitable happened. I did what may have been the most foolish thing ever—told Donovan about Christopher’s antics.
 

“What!” he screamed, nearly tossing me out of his arms as he jumped from the bed. His teeth were clenched so tightly I thought they would shatter. “Get home, right now, and have Eric take the kids to the playground. I’ll be waiting down the street. The second they leave, I am going to lay that scrawny little bastard out.”

I barely get them out the door before Sir Lancelot charges inside. “Where is that Mancunian snake?” Donovan’s protruding eyes and flattened lips of steel confirm why I didn’t inform him of Christopher's behavior earlier.

“In his studio,” I respond. Donovan charges about two feet before regret creeps back, and I stop him. “I really don’t know if we should do this.”

He sneers as if offended on the deepest level. “What happened to the girl who was subservient to no one? He has one chance to pull it together, else I’m reclaiming you and the five of us are out of here.” Donovan’s thundering footsteps as he descends the stairs remind me of the pounding of hells bells in double time—each step weighted with doom. I should have already called for an ambulance.

“I’ve had it with you,” Donovan growls. “Lily filled me in on your behavior over the last few weeks. You have ten seconds to apologize and explain before I turn you into dog food.”

To my shock, Christopher stands up to Donovan, snickering as if a turtle could threaten him more. “I wondered when you would finally show. Now maybe we can get to the bottom of things. I won’t be threatened by your kind.”

What the hell has gotten into Christopher?

Donovan slowly progresses towards him, bearing his teeth as he speaks. I no longer thought Donovan capable of deep anger. “What exactly is
my kind?
”

Christopher attempts to look unaffected—yet his eyes jitter. “Now I know why your mother turned on you.”

Dear Lord, does he want to die?

Donovan’s face tells Christopher's British teeth may soon be in need of American dental work. “If you don’t straighten out immediately, Lily will have no choice but to leave you. You know there is no way she will go without her kids.”

Christopher holds his ground, as if desiring pulverization. “No court would ever grant her rights given the circumstances.”
 

“What circumstances?” Donovan asks with a sneer.

“You’re trying to convince Lilyanna to leave me so you can take advantage of her. I never believed your mother’s suspicions until I heard your joke about me and tackle gear, love drugs, and pulling a runner.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, shocked and confused.

“I may have gotten in deep, but I never used a rig,” Christopher says in self-defense.

I’m astounded. “Who said you did?” My brain scrambles to grasp what he is talking about.

“Donovan sure thought the idea was funny. I see no humor it in.”

“When?” I ask, turning to Donovan, who is equally perplexed.

“Out by the car the day the test results arrived. You accused me of still being on Ecstasy, only you used the code of love drugs, and said you were going to pull a runner.”

All becomes clear, as I understand his backwards translations of English slang versus Basic English. “Christopher, again you don’t understand us.”

Anger still flares in Donovan’s eyes. “Christopher, after what you did to Lily, you had better start talking. If not, Lily and the kids are leaving with me.”

“Why? So I can look the fool and you can steal her away for your own use, just like your mother claimed.”

“Do not push my buttons,” Donovan warns.

“Christopher! You know those were ridiculous accusations.”

“I know nothing of the sort. Of course you claim he is innocent. There is such a thing as Stockholm Syndrome.”

With calm words and arms that are tightly wrapped around his chest, Donovan lets him have it. “You fail to see who the real abuser is, and I won’t let it continue.”

I scream at Christopher. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“Either that or maybe you are just a whore.”

Donovan slams Christopher against the wall, punctuating each point with little shoves that intensify the threat. “Lily does not deserve this treatment. She is an amazing woman who would do anything for her children, even suffer mental abuse for their well being. Go ahead, let the person who would sacrifice everything because she loves and believes in you slip away, and then see how you feel when your head hits the pillow every night for the rest of your life. You know deep in your heart there’s not another woman in the world for you. If you fail to fix this now, rest assured you never get another chance with her.” Donovan releases his victim. “Well, Christopher?”

Christopher stares at the ground, neither speaking up for me to stay, nor pushing me to go.

“He’s right, Christopher,” I warn. “Now or never.”
 

His silence causes me to crash. I don’t need a valiant fight, only to know that the real Christopher still wants us, but apparently he doesn’t.

“All right, Lil. Time to get out of here,” Donovan says, escorting me to the stairs. Anger is still pronounced in his face, yet a slip of a smile shows through. Christopher appears shrunken as I take the lead with the intention of tracking down Eric so I can get my kids.