Page 171 of Lovestruck at Sundown
Nodding, I pressed my lips together.
He dragged the stool closer to where he stood and sat before me. “Please allow me to share a small piece of advice.”
“Of course,” I replied, curious about what he was about to say, and sat on my stool to convey my interest. I’d pressed pause on my therapy sessions because I found that they were overwhelming me. My therapist asked too many questions that only left me even more confused about where I stood with my own thoughts, so I had decided to take abreak from it. Maybe it was time to change therapists. But the truth was I needed all the help I could get. Therapy saved me when my mother died and once again when Caleb did. But it felt like there were some things I needed to figure out on my own.
“Don’t wear yourself out trying to understand why people do the things they do,” Louis began. “It rarely, or ever, has anything to do with you. Achieving a healthy relationship with our parents sometimes comes in the shape of letting go of the past, surrendering to the present, and building something new from the ground up. But when the door is closed, and you genuinely believe it cannot be opened again, it comes in the shape of absolute forgiveness and allowing yourself to move on in peace. As long as you’re emotionally anchored or invested in any way, it will remain an itch you won’t be able to scratch.”
Louis’s words landed like a guided missile. It was easier to look away from the situation than face it head-on and do the required work to heal the wounds surrounding my relationship with my father.
“Makes perfect sense,” I responded. “I guess I’m at a point where the door feels too heavy to pull it open, even if I know it’s unlocked.”
“There are ways to find that strength,” Louis said with such conviction it gave me hope. “I took responsibility for my life and nourished my needs and the areas that felt lacking instead of insisting on blaming my parents for their mistakes.” He paused for a moment as if to let his words sink in. “I understood how hard it is to give others what you weren’t provided. But when you realize that we’re all doing the best we can with the information we have, the wounds heal, and the cycle is broken.”
“Seems like your son was blessed with a wonderful father,” I said, swallowing down the growing swell of emotion in my throat. Simone looked away and brushed a stray tear that rolleddown her rosy cheek.
“Le meilleur du meilleur,” Simone spoke, standing behind Louis and running her arms around him.The best of the best.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he said, gripping his wife’s arms with tenderness. “I only did the best I could with the information I had.”
October 27, 2012
“Liam!” I shoutedfrom my room as I finished packing my purse to leave for the Beaumont Gallery opening. Nina had horrible period cramps and couldn’t make it, so Liam was coming with me instead. We planned to pick up some takeout afterward and have dinner at their place. Initially, I’d invited Lily because I hadn’t seen her in a while, but Joel needed to stay a few more days in LA for a role he was auditioning for, and she wanted to stay with him. “I don’t want to be late!”
“Fuck off!” Liam shouted.
“Excuseme?” I shouted back, marching toward the living room, fuming. I stood in front of the TV and crossed my arms at my chest.
“Shit, Red. You thought I was talking to you?” He grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. “I would never! I meant the referee.” He shot up from the sofa and brushed a hand over his dress pants. “He was being an arse the whole match!”
“Whatever, let’s go,” I said, turning on my heel and walking toward the front door. Liam followed me, and when I opened the door, he pushed it back closed with his palm. “Liam, seriously—”
“What’s going on?” he asked, cutting meoff as I silently stared at the door. “We’re not leaving until you tell me why you’re acting this way.”
“It’s nothing.” I turned to look at him with exasperation. “I hate being late, and traffic is going to be crazy at this hour.”
“Come on, Red.” Liam cocked his head to the side. “We both know that’s not it.”
“Fine.” I leaned back against the door and let my head bump against it as I looked up to take a deep breath. “My dad might be at the event tonight,” I sighed. “I sent the invitation to his assistant, and she didn’t tell me if he would be going or not because I didn’t dare ask.”
“It’ll be fine either way,” he said reassuringly. “I promise.”
“I haven’t seen or talked to him since the night of the gala, and I don’t know if I’m ready to do that today.”
“I won’t leave your side unless you ask me to, okay?” He dipped his chin and squeezed my shoulder. “And if being mean to me helps you blow off some steam, you can keep doing it on our way there.” He wiggled his brows.
I couldn’t help smiling, but it quickly melted away. “I’m sorry,” I said, pulling the door open with a frown and stepping out. “I’m just stressed about it.”
“Worry naught, milady,” Liam replied, curtseying low and waving an elegant hand as I locked the door. That got me, and I let out a breathy chuckle.
As the elevator took us down to the lobby and Liam complained about the referee’s apparent preference for the opposing team on the rugby match he was watching, I texted William.
Me:OMW to the gallery opening I told you about. Wish youwere here. I miss you.
I put my phone away, not expecting an answer anytime soon. I knew William was busy flying or about to fly somewhere. It was hard to keep track of his whereabouts these days, with the press tour almost coming to an end. At least I had seen him for three days during the New York premiere in September. It had been the wildest red carpet event I had ever attended. More production, twice the fans, a bigger theater, and a longer red carpet. The movie was incredible, and William and the rest of the cast did a fantastic job. No wonder it was receiving high praise from film critics and important media outlets.
We arrived at the impressive Beaumont Galerie in SoHo to find we were among the first to arrive. People were starting to shuffle in, and a photographer immediately asked to take our picture, and we agreed.
“Thanks, mate,” Liam said to the photographer as we walked away.
