The Man In The Mirror

At that moment, all I wanted was to see her face. Know who I was talking to. That was also the moment I knew I had to end the conversation. I was getting too close. “Well, goodnight then.”

“Brett?” she called, there was a hint of desperation in her voice.

“Yes.”

“Do you think … would it be possible for you to make some time to spend with Zackary?”

The idea was like a knife in my heart. She had no idea how much I wanted that. In the tense silence she rushed to explain herself. “It’s just that he drew you today. We made a kite and he drew you and his mother. I told him that perhaps the three of you could fly it together someday soon.”

“Zackary is terrified of me,” I said, my voice sounded harsh with pain.

She did not hesitate. “It didn’t seem that way,” she said. “In fact, he said … he said that he—” she stopped.

“What did he say?” I asked, and even I could hear how desperately eager I sounded.

“That you smiled a lot. He drew you with a big smile, but he said he had not seen you in a long while.”

“Half my face has been gouged out. Did he somehow include that in his drawing?” I asked bitterly.

I heard her draw a sharp breath. “No,” she replied. “He drew you with a mask, and painted the smile on top of the mask. You are his father and he loves you.”

I think I cried once in my adult life. One night when I didn’t want to fight anymore. When the pain was so great and the end seemed so pointless. That one night in a dark pit of despair I thought about ending it all, but it was my love for Zackary that kept me going. Through it all it was him. Hearing her say those words, made a single tear run down my face. I lifted my hand and touched it. Always it was him that could make me cry. “If you can, tell him I love him,” I said and cut the connection.

Chapter 18

Charlotte

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcOxhH8N3Bo

Time passed and I stared at the silent intercom. God knows how long I stood there leaning against the wall.

My chest seemed eerily clogged as I went over the details of the call. At first it was to ensure I had not in any way stepped out of line, but as I ran over his responses again and again, my cognizance of the words began to fade and I recognized only the intense and relentless desire to be close to him. To hold him. Touch him. Comfort him.

I looked out towards his window. It was lighted, but the curtains were drawn shut. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the man in the photo with half his face gouged out, but I couldn’t.

What had given him the impression Zackary was afraid of him?

Especially when Zackary did not behave as if he was. He wouldn’t have drawn him, and definitely not with them holding hands. I frowned when I remembered that Zackary did mention his father had made him cry. Were his scars really that awful? Not knowing felt like it would suffocate me. I nearly jumped out of my skin when the knock came on the door.

Shit.

I ran to open the door for Barnaby. He was dressed in the way he always was. Not a hair out of place.

“Just a minute, please,” I said and ran back in.

He did not come in, but waited politely outside while I found my spare USB stick and quickly copied the photos onto it.

“There you go,” I said, placing it on the little silver plate he held out. It was like a scene from a different century and it made me smile.

“Goodnight, Miss. Conrad,” he said with a nod. Then he was gone, his footsteps steady and silent, until he was swallowed by the shadows in the corridor.

I closed the door and got ready for bed. Crawling into bed I sought sleep, but it wouldn’t come.

“Insomnia …

He said it plagued him. All I usually needed was ten minutes of idleness and my eyelids would become as heavy as wet blankets. But tonight, restless, swirling thoughts kept me wide awake. I punched the pillow and lay on my stomach. Nope. I turned back and stared at the ceiling. I wondered if he was in bed. I turned on my side and waited for sleep in that position. That didn’t work either. I got out of bed and padded over to the window.

His light was still burning.

I sighed and went back to bed. Switching on the bedside lamp I tried to read, but I was too distracted to concentrate. I made my way back to the window. Now I was angry with myself. This was completely stupid and I was behaving like a complete idiot. If my mother knew what I was doing she would be disgusted. God, my father would be turning in his grave if he could see me now.

“He’s a married man. Stop lusting after him,” I said aloud.

He’s married only in name, a voice in my head corrected.

“Well, he’s still married.”

He’s unhappy. Horribly unhappy. She doesn’t deserve him.

I slumped on the bed. The craving to go to him was so strong it shocked me. I had never been one to be addicted to anything. I could take or leave chocolate. I tried smoking once and hated it. I went to a club and was given an ecstasy tablet and while I really enjoyed the feeling of being high I never again wanted to have it after I found out that it kills brain cells. But this man was like a drug I had no resistance against. I didn’t know why he had such a strong pull over me. It was like he was a giant magnet pulling me to him. I buried my face in my hands.

What the hell have I got myself into?

Chapter 19

Brett

Barnaby was preceded by a quiet knock. He held out his silver plate with the USB stick on it as if it was the most precious thing in the world. He did not know it, but it was. I took it and thanked him. He wished me goodnight and was gone. The first thing I did was bring the stick to my nose. She had held this in her hands. There was no smell. I put it into my laptop and the photos jumped to life on my screen. My hands were shaking as I reached out to touch his face. He was laughing. His clothes were wet and full of dirt and he was laughing!

My son was laughing.

I hadn’t seen him laughing in a long time. I enlarged the photo and moved nearer.

“Oh, Zackary, Zackary. My life, my heart. How I love you,” I whispered.

I went through the photos. Sometimes I smiled, sometimes I laughed out loud, and then I came across the last one and I froze. Someone else had taken this one. A blonde woman was holding Zackary up in the air, as high as she could. I could see her muscles straining. He was laughing and so was she.

They were both drenched. I could see the shape of her full breasts through her wet clothes. Her nipples were erect from the cold, but that was not what grabbed and refused to let go of my attention.

I stared at her face in amazement.

Charlotte was beautiful. Her blue eyes shone with warmth and intelligence. She was the kind of girl I would have loved to have met before the accident, before I talked myself into marrying Jillian.

Chapter 20

Charlotte

The next morning, I walked down from the kitchen with Zackary to find the courtyard brimming with people. Upon inspection I realized that the playground had already been purchased and was being installed.

I was amazed at the speed in which he had acted, even as I tried to ignore the prick in my chest that he hadn't called to inform me of it.

Zackary slipped his hand into mine and tugged to get my attention. “What are they doing?”

“They're building a playground for you," I answered.

His eyes widened. “Like in the park.”

I smiled. "Exactly. I think you will love it, and you'll have such a blast playing in there.”

&nb

sp; “Wow. Is all this just for me?”

I nodded. “You're the luckiest boy in the world, do you know that?" I lowered myself down to his height.

"You have your own personal playground, and a father who loves you so very much. He bought it all, you know? So the next time you see him, you tell him how much you appreciate them, alright?"

He nodded in response and I ruffled his hair. He froze suddenly and jerked away. Taken aback by his response I stared at him as he carefully slicked his hair back.

"But what about Mummy?" he asked.

That was a great question. No doubt Mummy would be very unhappy with this new development that she had no say in. I smiled at Zackary. “I don’t see why Mummy won’t love it too, can you?” I grinned. “What’s not to love? It’s swings and slides and sandboxes.”

I settled Zackary for breakfast and hurried up to my room. As I approached the intercom, I felt a frisson of anxiety, but I convinced myself that there was no need to be nervous. Perhaps he was no longer even at home. I heard Mrs. Blackmore say that the helicopter had come and taken him to London yesterday.

I pressed the main button, and spoke. “Hello? Brett?"

There was no response.

“Brett," I called again, and already a sensation of longing was settling in the pit of my stomach. I so wanted to hear his voice again. I was just about to disconnect it when his voice came through. My heart jumped to my throat and I could feel my blood rushing in my ear. And this was just the sound of his voice. I had it real bad for this man.

"Charlotte?"

I cleared my throat. "Uh, I just wanted you to know Zackary loves his playground. Thank you for doing that. You make my work so much easier."

“Not at all," he said. "The men will be gone by lunchtime so be sure to create some time for Zackary to use them after his lessons this afternoon."