The Man In The Mirror

“Spare me. You didn’t give a damn about your father.”

“Take that back, Brett King. I loved my father until you ripped me away from him.”

“He wanted you to marry me, or have you forgotten?”

“He would turn in his grave if he knew what you got up to in London.”

“I do it because I am unhappy,” she cried.

“Look, I really don’t care anymore. I don’t want to be married to you anymore.”

“Please, Brett.”

“Why do you want to be married to someone who doesn’t want you?”

“Are you really that dense? With your last fucking name I am somebody. Do you think all those fine Lords and Ladies would give a shit about me if I was a divorcee? You expect me to give all that up for no reason?”

"Do you truly feel no shame when you mention any of this?" I should be used to her selfishness by now, but it appeared she still had the ability to surprise me.

"What shame?” she spat. "These are facts. I grew up with you and my father promising me the world and now you want to pull it out from under my feet. Not on your life."

I smiled cynically. “So, I'm more or less your trophy?”

"I don't give a damn what you call it, but no other woman will ever take my place. It is mine. You have refused to fix us, so you have to live with whatever is left."

I straightened. As far as I was concerned the performance had come to an end. I picked up my office phone. "Barnaby, can you get the helicopter ready for me, please?”

"Yes, Mr. King," came the response.

"Brett, we’re not done.”

"I am," I snarled. "Get out of my office, and make sure to sign those papers before I tear everything apart.”

Tears of self-pity filled her eyes. “I'll take Zackary away from you. I swear it."

My response was simple. "Try."

Chapter 38

Charlotte

The knock on my door made me jump. When it creaked open to reveal Zackary's scared small face I shot out my hand to call him to me. He ran to me, a fire truck in his hand, and I pulled him up to sit on my lap.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

He shook his head, tears in his eyes. I embraced him, perfectly understanding why. The whole place was in a commotion because Jillian was throwing a drunken tantrum. She had returned suddenly a little while before dinner and tore through the house smashing things and cursing like a sailor.

Since then it had been nothing but screams of fury, and the smashing of things either to the ground or against walls, alarming movements, and thuds that no one could decipher.

Mr. Boothsworth had gone up to attend to her, but he remained outside her door, as she would not let anyone in.

From her cursing and swearing I could almost suspect what was happening. but I couldn't believe it, or rather I was too scared to. I had not forgotten Brett asking me if it was his divorce that would pave the way for us.

Zackary cupped his hand over my ear. "Is Mummy mad with me?" he whispered.

"Of course not. You haven’t done anything wrong, have you?”

He shook his head solemnly.

“There you go. She's just a little upset right now, but everything will be fine when Daddy comes home. Do you want to come outside with me to play for a little bit?"

He nodded, needing to be away from the racket just as much as I did. We headed hand in hand over to his new playground and whiled away an hour on the swings. He was building a mighty sandcastle in his play box when we heard the helicopter arrive in the distance. I decided to keep Zackary outside, so he didn’t accidentally hear anything he shouldn’t.

When the sound of police sirens came up the driveway not too long after, I made sure to keep Zackary with me until all had subsided.

“Have the police come to take Mummy away?” Zackary asked, his eyes enormous with fear.

“No, of course not. I think they’ve just come to help Mummy feel less upset.”

He nodded gravely and carried on building his sandcastle. After the police had left I walked into the kitchen after sending Zackary up to wash his hands.

Mrs. Blackmore talked to me in hushed tones. "We don't know who called the police, but they took Mrs. King away for destruction of property. Apparently, she started her damaging rampage at the restaurant where she was lunching and carried on at the local bar."

“Wow,” I said quietly.

She looked stumped as she stared into nothingness. "I don't understand what could make her get so mad like that. She’s always been bad tempered, but never like this."

"You should have heard the way Mr. King spoke to her. He was furious," Carrie said. "So much so he even dealt with the cops himself. He promised them he would make good any damage she had caused. They wanted to breathalyze her, but he wouldn’t allow them to. He had Mr. Boothsworth smuggle her quickly into the helicopter and off she went. I think they knew they had been outwitted, but they were a bit in awe of Mr. King.”

I listened quietly, not knowing how I felt about it all. Things were spinning out of control and so quickly, I didn't know when something was going to fly out of nowhere and take me down. When I said no to Brett I was sure that my principles were more important than my own pleasure, but as the hours passed I became more and more confused and truly at a loss about what I should do.

Zackary came down, and immediately Mrs. Blackmore began to fuss over him. For the last two days, I had been allowing him to eat dinner in the kitchen instead of the big dining room that felt cold and impersonal. He sat down and quietly ate his dinner paying little attention to the cartoon that I turned on for him.

When it was time to retire for the day I headed to my room and sat on my bed, staring up at the intercom. Waiting but for what I wasn't sure. I had turned him down. What did I expect? He would come chasing after me! After a while I got up and headed over to the window, hoping to see his silhouette at his window just as I had multiple nights in the past.

But he never appeared, and his lights never came on.

My heart waited for a call to come from him until I eventually fell into a restless slumber. All I had were the memories of his touch, a bitter sweet company.

Chapter 39

Charlotte

A few more days passed, and there was no word from either Zackary’s father or mother. I adhered to Zackary’s schedule and we, the staff, were left to fend for ourselves. More than ever the house seemed eerily cold and forlorn.

More often than not I would catch myself staring at the intercom, or out of the window over at his darkened part of the wing and wonder when he would return. Often, I would think I had made a terrible mistake by turning him down. How could I have been so stupid to put someone else’s happiness before my own? Then Zackary would smile at me in a certain way and I knew I had done the right thing.

No love is worth destroying a child for.

A week passed before Barnaby came into the kitchen with an important announcement. "Mr. King will be back tonight, Mrs. Blackmore. It will be way past midnight so perhaps make him something light to eat."

"I'll have to stay awake late again.” Mrs. Blackmore groaned lightly, and turned to the basket of garlic that she was peeling.

I thought long and hard about it before I opened my mouth to speak. "I think I'll be up later today so if you prepare it, I'll warm it up, and take it to him."

“Are you sure, love?" she asked. "I can easily hand it over to Carrie to take since she's in charge of his wing, anyway."

I gave her a simple smile. "It’s okay, I can do it for her."

"Alright," she said, her smile bright. “I’ll have to explain to you how to warm it properly, though."

“Okay, show me later.”

"You've also been quite withdrawn these past few days. Is everything alright?"

I nodded. "All is well. I've just had some things to think through.”

“Well I'm here if you need me," she said with a sincere smile.

I smiled bac

k in gratitude.

What seemed like many hours later, I was on my way to Mr. King's suite. I was sure I was courting fire, but still I couldn't stop myself.

I heard his voice before I knocked on the door. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but the deep and quiet rumble of his voice was more than enough to listen to. He spoke clearly and without hurry, as if the whole world was required to match his pace.

I knocked, and to my surprise he came to the door and pulled it open. When he saw me, he stopped, and a strange expression crossed his eyes.

"Sure," he said to the speaker on the phone, as his eyes bored into mine.

"I brought you some food," I murmured.