Pretend You're Mine Page 8

  Taylor came into view with his grandfather and two other people I didn’t recognize. Taylor’s jaw was held stiff and his gaze looked far away. It terrified me. It terrified me because he looked scared and angry. He’s never looked that way to me before.

  “Lydia.” His voice was calm and controlled, no emotional in his words. “These are my parents.”

  Chapter 10: Lydia

  We were seated in one of the sitting rooms for guests. I had never really been in this room before. We didn’t really have guests. I wanted to change that, perhaps slowly see if Taylor would be interested in having more people over more regularly. But it was hard to think about the many plans I had made in the short time Taylor and I realized what we were to each other. We now sat on a loveseat couch, hand in hand across from Taylor’s family. His grip was slightly crushing my hand, but he didn’t even seem aware of it.

  His mother sat on one side and his father on the other of his grandfather. From what I had learned very briefly, Taylor’s parents had been divorced for almost his whole life and they likely didn’t get along since they weren’t talking to each other and instead seemed to act like the other wasn’t there. His dad, Mr. Lincoln Hayes, lost the right to see him very often, and Ms. Hara Hirano had held custody over him.

  Taylor got his face from his dad but not much else. He had a strong jaw and faint ginger hair. He was dressed in a nice-ish suit but nothing designer. He wasn’t where the wealth came from apparently. His mom was the one who he looked like the most with the eyes she got from Ikari and the dark black hair she had cut to shoulder length and used curlers on to make the bottom curl up. Her outfit was expensive. I didn’t have to be a designer to know that.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled, but my tone was fake to my ears. I had some idea of why Taylor was so terrified. His actions, his cold exterior, sometimes that was a result of how you grow up. And the way he acted around them proved to me that they had done something to him. I wasn’t going to pry; I didn’t need to know if he didn’t want to tell me. But now I knew that I was playing a game with these people. I had to figure out who wanted to hurt us and get them out of here as soon as possible without destroying what Taylor and I had made and also without costing him the company.

  “Taylor hadn’t told me he was getting married.” His father said and smiled back. I watched his body language first, years of running a business taught me how to read people. Something about his eyes were sad. He was looking and talking to me, but he kept looking at Taylor, his expression cracking a little when he did. Was he feeling guilty?

  “It was rushed, I’ll admit,” I said, throwing in small laugh.

  “Why wasn’t I invited?” His mom said as if I wasn’t already speaking with someone.

  I looked at her and kept my happy face up. “It was such a small ceremony, over in less than a minute. And with the quick decision, I couldn’t invite my family either. I hope you’ll forgive us; we just couldn’t wait any longer!” I decided to play up being love struck, hopefully it would mask how much I was inspecting them.

  “That’s no excuse Taylor. I raised you.” She said in a light tone, but even I felt threatened. I was the one talking to her, not him.

  “It was my idea to get married at the courthouse,” I interjected. “Right Taylor?”

  He seemed to snap out of his daze a little to look at me with panic in his eyes. I could handle anything these people said. Taylor was so out of it. I wanted to protect him. I needed him to let me protect him.

  “Right.” He said calmly.

  “So, you didn’t think it was appropriate to even tell us?” His mother snapped her gaze from Taylor to me. It was insidious the way she talked to us. Any outsider would hear the casual tone of her voice and assume it was an honest question, but I could tell by the way her gaze hardened, that she already didn’t like me and was accusing me of whatever she wanted.

  “She said that they wanted it done quickly, Hana.” His dad saved me from thinking of an answer. “And do you think a wedding with our families would have been a good start for their relationship, or any relationship?”

  Hana smiled. “Of course not. It was smart thinking of her.”

  I was now convinced that Taylor was afraid of his mother. If this is how she acted growing up, I could see that. His dad probably wasn’t the issue. He waited way too long to stand up to his ex-wife. Her first couple comments were just as bad as the last one. But perhaps he was afraid of her too. I was going to do my best to not let her affect me. As soon as she left our house, I wasn’t going to let her back in.

  Our house? Oh, I was in it deep already.

  “You can’t predict what young lovers will do, Hana,” Ikari said. He was at least more reasonable than his daughter, but I still wasn’t going to trust him after learning just how obsessed with heirs he was. The real reason he was defending us was he wanted us together long enough to have babies.

  “Are you going to offer your guests anything Taylor?” His mother asked.

  “I can make something, if you want.” Each word from Taylor felt heavy.

  “That sounds good Taylor.” Mr. Hayes said. “That way we can get to know Lydia.”

  Taylor stood up and nodded to his father.

  “I’ll come help you darling.” His mother stood up and Taylor froze.

  “No, I, it will be done in a moment.” He stumbled over his words but recovered quickly.

  “I insist. I want to catch up with my only son, is that so wrong?” She asked.

  “Why don’t we all go?” I said looking around at everyone here with a look that I hope didn’t look as frantic as I felt. “Taylor is an excellent cook. He puts on a show for me almost every night. We should all watch him in action.”

  Taylor looked like he was allowing himself to breathe finally, “Yes, everyone should come.”

  “I didn’t know you cooked,” Mr. Hayes said with a small, sad smile on his face.

  “He’s basically a pro,” I gushed, trying to avoid the stare and the pursed lips of Ms. Hirano.

  We followed Taylor to the kitchen who began making some kind of fancy cheese dip thing. The only time he spoke was when he was asked about what he was making or what he was doing. I tried to field all other questions.

  “Ikari told me you are a fashion designer?” His dad asked politely.

  “I am the co-owner of Sew Fit.” Thank god he asked about my job, if there was anything, I could fill the space talking about it was that.

  “I thought your name sounded familiar. My wife works in the same building as you.” He smiled a little. “She sees your models sometimes and comes home talking about how nice they look.”

  “Tell her I said thank you.” I didn’t think he’d lie about something like that. “I wonder if she heard about the almost disaster with the security alarm?”

  “Why don’t you tell the story?”

  “Sure…” I went on and on about the mistake one of our newer models made when he opened the wrong door setting off the security alarm and causing a bit of a misunderstanding that almost turned into arrests until everything was explained. It was somewhat funny, but not the longest story in the world. I stretched it out to give Taylor more time.

  “They’re done.” He set out a tray of meats, crackers and his cheese spread. I wondered if he had planned to make this for just the two of us.

  “If only we were a cooking company,” his grandfather joked as he finished off a cracker dipped in cheese.

  After this distraction they were all probably going to expect something more from us. His mother might even try to get him alone again. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I had to get them to leave.

  I tried to subtly text while I ate some of the dip. Taylor was beginning to space out again. While he was cooking, he almost seemed like he usually did, but it was clear he was slipping with that distraction gone. A few moments later my phone began to ring.

  “Oh, excuse me.” I glanced at my phone. “I have to take this, it might be wor
k.” It was rude of me, but I took the call where I was.

  “Do you need me to say anything specific?” Michael asked over the line.

  “Really?” I said in a shocked tone.

  “I guess not? I’ll just keep responding?”

  “But what about our models? I know it’s last minute, but who could we ask?”

  “Why didn’t you go into acting Lydia? Also, you could get away with so much more if you’d just use your evil lying powers for yourself,” Michael said sounding bored.

  “What’s wrong?” Taylor asked, looking at me curiously.

  “We have to do an emergency photoshoot,” I said covering the speaker with my hand a little. “But none of our models can make it.”

  “I could help,” he said, realization dawning in his eyes.

  “You are just as good as any model,” I said meaning it. I went back to speaking on the phone, “Do you think my husband could do it?”

  “You owe me, Lyds.”

  “Wow, that’s great, we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

  “Stay safe,” Michael said and hung up.

  “I’m so sorry to do this, but we’re going to have to leave. Maybe we can get together some other time?” I said apologetically, trying to not show how excited I was with my deception.

  “I understand.” Mr. Hayes sighed. “Your work is important to you, I’m glad my son supports it.”

  “We’ve haven’t even been here an hour and you’re already kicking us out?” His mother asked, a bit of her frustration slipping out from her casual tone.

  “Hana,” his grandfather said, stopping her from going on any longer, “we’ve taken enough of the happy couple’s time.”

  “We’ll just have to come back some other day,” Hana said it like the threat it was.

  Taylor and I saw all three of them to the door. I kept on smiling. I shook Mr. Hayes’ and Ikari’s hand but wasn’t offered anything from Hana. I wouldn’t have accepted it anyway. When I shut the door, I let my face fall. My cheek ached from holding up such a forced smile for so long.

  “At least that’s over.” I looked over to Taylor who was stuck in place in the foyer, shaking and breathing so hard and fast. “Taylor?” I walked over to him. I reached out to touch him, but he flinched away. I reached down and tapped his wrist once. That let me get a bit closer, but it didn’t snap him out of it. He was having a panic attack. I recognized it having had a few small ones in college but nothing this bad. I never really learned how to deal with them either. I used to just take long showers until I calmed down. I doubted I could get Taylor to move without toppling over. He had his eyes shut so tightly it looked like he was straining.

  I started rubbing circles in Taylor’s palm, hoping to bring him back to me. “Tell me what you need me to do.” I said softly, hoping he could hear me. He seemed to curl in on himself, which at first, I thought meant he was getting worse. But he pulled out his phone and handed it to me.

  I opened it and looked around. Not sure what he wanted me to do. I checked his texts and saw the only contact other than me and his grandfather was called Tupp (Therapist) and then the mouse emoji. Whether this is what he meant or not I called this Tupp, hoping they could talk me through this.

  “Taylor?” A woman with an incredibly high voice answered the phone.

  “Sorry, I’m Lydia, his wife?”

  “Oh dear, what’s the problem? I’m Dr. Tupp, his therapist.”

  “His parents showed up and I got them to leave, but now he’s having a panic attack and I don’t know how to help.” I got it all out in one breath.

  “Both his parents?” She sounded genuinely worried, as well as a little angry in a way that felt wrong for a therapist, which confirmed I was never letting them back into this house as long as I lived here.

  “Yeah. What can I do?”

  “Repeat after me dear,” she said, and I did.

  “Taylor,” I began softly, “what do we do first?”

  “We breathe,” he said unevenly though still rapid breaths. I began taking deep breaths in and out until he began to follow my pattern. Soon we were breathing in sync.

  “What do you feel?”

  “Your hand in mine. The hardwood under my feet. Cold from the door that was just open.”

  “What do you hear?”

  A small wobbly smile appeared. “Your voice.”

  “What do you see?”

  He opened his eyes, blinking a few times. “You.”

  “That’s good,” I said, continuing to move my thumb over his palm. “Do you want to talk to Dr. Tupp?”

  He nodded. I handed him the phone.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  He looked unsure for a moment but finally nodded. I left him there and went to my room so I couldn’t hear their private conversation. I knew that Taylor had some kind of regular appointment somewhere. I had never asked what it was for. All along it was therapy. I wish his parents had never come. If Taylor wanted me to know about his therapy, he would eventually have told me. If I were forced to be so vulnerable in front of someone, I wouldn’t know how to handle it.

  I decided I wasn’t going to push him to share anything with me. I would let him know he could be open with me, but I wanted him to tell me on his own schedule. I was mid preparing a speech when I heard a knock on my door.

  “Come in,” I said and got up from my bed.

  Taylor opened the door and stood at the threshold, not moving any closer. “We should take some photos to send to my grandfather.”

  “What? Oh. Because of what I said. Yeah, we can do that sometime, it might be fun.”

  “Good.” He looked at me for a moment. “I’ll talk to you later?” He turned and shut the door.

  All the words I had planned to say died in my throat as I was left alone.

  Chapter 11: Taylor

  I struggled to get out of bed every morning for the next week. I still pushed myself to get up and managed to by focusing on my guilt at abandoning my responsibilities. I was on autopilot when I went to work. I did everything I was supposed to, but it didn’t feel like I was the one doing it; it was like I was at a distance, floating, watching my body work. I came home and made dinner, then went to bed again. I didn’t feel up to exercising or anything else. Mrs. Tupp told me I was very likely spiraling into a depressive episode but hearing those words didn’t pull me out of it. I had felt a weight on myself nearly my whole life. Only recently had I felt it get lifted further and further until it only bothered me sometimes. Now it was like it had been shoved back down on my shoulders and its weight was all I could feel.

  Lydia made it better. During our nightly dinners she had plenty of time and reason to, but never asked what happened between me and my parents, between me and my mother. When they had visited, I had no idea what I was going to do, my brain stopped. But without having to even ask me what was wrong, she seemed to know what I needed and how best to keep my mother away from me. Lydia didn’t even let her get close enough to touch me. I would never be able to repay her for that. But I could tell she was worried about me, but after my illness, I promised that I didn’t want to do that to her again. I tried to get myself in the mood to give her the affection I know she craved. At the gardens I had wanted it too, but now I lacked the spark that drove me to take her there.

  A few days after the incident, I pushed her against our countertops and kissed her hard and fast. She wanted this and I wanted to get it done quickly. I crashed into her lips and she seemed to be into it too. At least I thought, until she tapped my wrist. I stopped immediately. She gently put a hand on my chest and pushed me back slightly. She smiled, but it wasn’t her usual bright one, it was twisted with concern. “Maybe we should try this later?” I felt shame deep inside. She could tell I couldn’t be what she wanted like this.

  ***

  I tossed and turned. Since my old prescription didn’t seem to be working anymore, Mrs. Tupp and I discussed different options. I was started on a different antidepressant
and it fixed my constant drowsiness but replaced it with insomnia. I was going to have to try something else. But that wouldn’t help me now. I knew it would be better to stay in bed and keep trying, or at least rest my eyes. But I threw my covers off anyway and started wandering around like I was some kind of specter in my own home. I wanted to keep moving.

  I paced around in the dark hallways in near silence, the creak of older floorboards and my feet against the floor being the only sounds. My head snapped up when a door creaked open and footsteps padded over to me. It was hard to make out anything in the low light, but I could see the shape of Lydia slowly reach over and tap my wrist.

  “Can’t sleep?” She didn’t move closer, just rubbed circles into my palm.

  “I’m sorry for waking you.”

  “No, I couldn’t sleep either,” she murmured.

  “Any sleep remedies to share?” I asked. I always thought I could learn to handle anything, but I was slowly learning that Lydia seemed to know everything and could help me when I couldn’t.

  “When I was younger, and I couldn’t sleep, all I wanted was to not be alone,” she said calmly. “Do you think that would help?”

  I swallowed the lump building in my throat. “I think it might.”

  I took hold of her hand and led her to my room. We both got into bed and laid on our sides facing each other.

  “Do you want me to get closer? To touch you?” She asked.

  I shook my head no. “Not yet.” I wasn’t ready for that. I didn’t know if I would ever be.

  “If you need me, I’ll be right over here.” She didn’t turn away, simply closed her eyes. That seemed like a great idea, I closed my eyes as well and felt my exhaustion finally take over.

  The next morning, she had stolen some of the blankets in her sleep, but she respected my space otherwise. After that, she asked me each night if I wanted her to come to bed with me. I almost always said yes. She was right. Even though I still couldn’t bring myself to touch her, knowing she was there calmed me. Like she would stop anything that could hurt me.