Chapter 57
Baltimore (MD)
1:00 pm
Alec After returning home and having it given to Debbie, who had moved from him to help him, he was back in the car.
The city at that time of night was almost deserted. He put the 45 state by pressing harder on the accelerator, but could go as fast as he could not leave behind their fears.
reached the apartment of Rebecca in less than twenty minutes, put the keys he had taken from Alejandro jacket and opened the door.
With one hand he felt the wall to find the switch.
He looked around, stunned.
Everything was as she had left him before leaving for San Fernando. He advanced towards the table in the middle of the kitchen. Pulled toward the chair and leaned back.
He touched his fingers with the edge of the cup when he had drunk the night before Christmas Eve, he had gone to her to invite her to his house.
smiled, suspecting that Becky was not very good with the housework, given the disorder that reigned a little 'everywhere. But after a moment's heart sank, realizing he would never have been able to find out.
cast his eyes on a cinnamon biscuit, with only one bite and bite close to the forgotten bottle of milk left open, with the edges covered with a layer of greenish mold that smelled of cheese.
He sat down and, between the crumbs and dirty cups, unwrapped the parcel that the housekeeper of Rebecca had given him.
surprised She opened her eyes, turning in his hands an old book that smelled of closed and, judging by its cover, yellowing and the corners worn, must have had a number of years.
did not understand it now, but when he began leafing through it, he regretted having accepted that gift, for fear of not being prepared to immerse themselves fully in the world of Rebecca.
was his diary.
The first page lists the top on 14 September 1993. He was only eight years old when he started writing it.
smiled slightly and, with trembling hands, he began to read it excited. The minutes passed quickly, and row after row, the past is Rebecca's stuck on me, becoming part of him.
In those pages there all his life. Most of his happy memories were tied to his brother Todd. And only then he realized what was important to her.
Although he had never stopped loving her, he could not forgive her for having gone along with the criminal purposes of Yusupov.
But now, thanks to that diary, beginning to understand what he suffered when his brother took his own life and why he acted that way.
The last page had written the night he had met in Geneva, and the center of the white paper was just a name, his own.
Simply, Michael. No comment.
A sharp tingling in the groin's is reminiscent of the days I spent in Switzerland. Escape at night to go swimming, making love in a boat, eating fried chicken nuggets watching the fireworks.
closed the notebook.
He looked around, as if any moment he expected to see her appear with her cheerful smile.
In the house hung a silence that hurt the heart.
He walked towards the room.
the foot of the bed, thrown on the ground next to the green tights, recognized the red wool suit she had worn the evening before.
"God, how I miss you ..." murmured the voice softening to chase away the pain he felt. "No, I will not cry ..." he mumbled stubbornly, looking with pride to keep this tangle of feelings she did not want to give voice.
He took a pass and picked it up.
was soft and he knew her, as every object in that room.
He sat on the bed with her dress in her hands.
In recent days there were so many things to worry that she had not had time to think and read into it.
Talk to Alejandro to explain something he could not understand, and would not accept, was the most difficult time.
"Becky ..." he whispered with no voice on the verge of exploding.
He clenched his fists, thinking back to Christmas morning.
A when he woke up on the carpet next to her. The fire was extinguished and neither of them seemed out of place, or embarrassing, shake to find warmth.
They had breakfast together and Michael had cooked his famous pancakes with maple syrup, greeted with great enthusiasm from the small Alec that, after numerous unsuccessful attempts to Rebecca, could finally taste them .
remember having her home, and slapped his legs, giving himself for having believed dell'idiota when he told of having to go back to Maine from his family for the holidays.
no more defend crouched between her sheets and began to cry. He had held the pain inside brooded too long and now could no longer hide it. He had lost the woman he loved, and this time there was no possibility of remedy.
Part of him hated her.
Rebecca had hidden the truth again and for that reason he was furious with her.
If only he knew what he was trying to do with Ryan and Milorad, could prevent it from leave.
"What did you think of doing? Stupid, "he said, his voice breaking, his face hidden in her hands wet. "Stupid, stupid, stupid ..." repeated over kicking the blanket like a baby and holding her stomach with her arms.
did not care nothing of the past, and was willing to throw in the toilet all the misunderstandings and the evil that they were made just to hold it as before for even a moment.
He wanted her there, next to him.
wanted to caress her belly like Christmas Eve and tell her that she had never stopped loving her. The image of her alone in the cold ground, made him go crazy.
There was dying.
The phone began to ring, making him jump on the bed. The exact same sound that only three days earlier had torn apart her life.
turned it off without thinking twice.
had been Peter, his agent, to warn him of what had happened.
The ride to the police station in Dallas with bated breath, hoping that there was a mistake or that it was a stupid joke organized by Doggie.
That sense of lightness and euphoria felt in having learned that Ryan and Milorad were well and were on a special flight to the United States, had become a gunshot to his stomach, a Once you understand that Rebecca was gone.
The trip to Mexico, Lersik and the truth about the bastard. The absurd plan Cavic, and the fiction of her engagement with her Yusupov lead to a misstep.
The smell of death hung in the morgue when sitting on a chair in the hallway, waiting for John to recognize that the corpse of his daughter.
images forever seared into the soul, fragments of a truth that he would rather not know.
And while horror tormented him, slowly fatigue led him to close his eyes in that warm bed to hide traces of her.
Like a breath of wind, a whisper tickled the ear.
"Wake up love, it's me ..."
**
In Meanwhile at home Harvey
"John, Come to bed. "
Louise's voice asking him to come to bed, without consistency in the hall resounded now vacant. The man, sitting on the couch, reflecting on what he should do.
dropped her head, reclining backrest.
"Oh, Margaret ..." he whispered, without realizing it. After all these years thinking of the mother of Rebecca, leaving emotions that emerge from the past believed lost permanently.
But after what had happened to her daughter, she could not help it.
He had met during a business trip in France when he was little more than a boy, and he was immediately in love.
remembered in detail, as if it were only yesterday, that day on the beach. His beautiful blue eyes and sad smile, that no matter how hard he tried, he could not erase from his face.
Then he could not imagine that love would not have caused more that suffering. At all.
and encouraged by the life that she wanted to share with her, she was convinced that the love he felt was enough to make her happy.
But he was wrong and, try as she might, nothing was able to dry the sea of sadness that the woman carried in his heart, without him, nor anyone else, he understood the reason.
The birth of Becky had not done anything but make things worse. The state of apathy in which Margaret had entrenched had peaked the day he decided to leave all of them. Disappearing into thin air.
was not to blame.
Margaret was one of those people who can not be happy. We had tried for years, but how loved them unable to grow those two little ones who felt like a burden.
Li loved so much. But he could not deal with them.
For years John had hated.
But that night, he could not deny himself the love he felt for and that she'd never heard anywhere else. Not with the same intensity.
**
"Becky?" He asked, shaking his head, his eyes half shut. "Becky?" Repeated confused. "Becky! Becky! Becky! "He shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders and peering into the eyes to be sure it was really her.
clasped in his fingers and threw it on the bed, trapping it beneath him.
He could not keep the eyes bright with joy and rushed to her mouth, biting one, two, three times before calling again.
happy than he had ever been in his life.
But just tasted the lips, he realized that something was wrong.
raised from his face. And look at her eyes narrowed, baffled. That mass of soft red curls scattered on the pillow were the same as yours. He wore the same melancholy smile pasted on Christmas Eve.
He held her up on one elbow to not crush it with your other hand and stroked her side, hoping to recognize, with that gesture, the familiarity of his skin. And while trying to figure out, without taking his eyes off her, she lay still under the gentle touch of his fingers thin.
"Manchester ..." murmured, brushing the pelvic bone. "This is the vest you were wearing that night."
The boys nodded, tilting her head sideways. How would give him time to get there alone.
"I know you liked. You've never looked more like that night, "he said with regret and with a persuasive tone of voice that made his heart beat.
"Oh, Becky ..." he whispered, rushing on its mouth, stuck between her legs. But just touched it, tried again that strange feeling of unreality.
His lips were cold and tasteless.
"Who are you?" Asked scared and disappointed, rising again, while her fingers played with his hair ruffled.
"You're not my Becca, right?"
She moved her head slowly from side to side to say no.
Michael sighed, letting fall on her, and her face resting between her breasts and began to cry no more defense.
That shadow that smelled of violets and breathed on his forehead, "Calm down ..." to comfort him, stroking his hair.
"You're a dream," he asked slowing down, sobbing.
"Yes, but obviously you're not happy to see me. I bet you preferred a brunette with a fifth of bra and my back tattooed "joked giving him a slap in your face. "Am I wrong?"
Michael laughed while the tears flowed more slowly. Only she could make him smile even in difficult times.
"Can I kiss you," asked a bit 'so, finally aware of dreaming.
"I do not know Phelps. Where am I now rather tax on these things. "
Michael's eyes widened.
"I was joking. Sure you can kiss me, stupid! "He said with a slight smile, wrap your arms around his neck and rolling around with him between the sheets. "Otherwise what are dreams?".
cuddle the sensations caused fundamentally different than they remembered.
There was excitation and skin smelled of sweat not smell them mixed. On the lips of that shadow, smooth as frosted glass, there was no sign of his taste of the male, with a little embarrassment, stuck to the adored her taste her mouth.
was like making love to a cloud. Without sound, no color.
But at least he was there.
And it was all he could hope to retain with him.
's face Michael frowned. The frustration and resentment for having lost led him to spit that held the toad in his throat. She was angry with her for throwing his life without weighing the consequences. "Why did you want to make your head! You should not go to Mexico, you should not have! "
" Stop screaming! "Cried Becky, being defensive.
"I scream as I please! This is my dream and I do what I want, dick. "
He drew back, freeing himself from her embrace, and cuddling up on the bed, giving her shoulders.
"Mike ..."
The boy, headstrong, she pretended not to hear her.
Rebecca, lying at his side, reached over, grabbed his shirt and gently pulled him closer to them. And do not take him long to convince him to heat it up again.
The dropped the first buttons and pressed his lips to the base of the neck. That hot breath he died of rabies in less than a minute.
"Can we argue that even in a dream?" Muttered closing his eyes, and melted his soft kisses pout permanently.
"I know that you like," she said, smiling.
Michael's eyes widened.
He could no longer wait. Grabbed her head in her hands and forced her to watch it.
was serious. Very serious.
And also a bit 'agitated.
"Will you marry me, Becca?"
*
Emptiness.
eternal moment before a kiss, that feeling of victory and defeat that will dry your throat when you realize that the person you love reciprocates what you feel.
And your concept of happiness begins and ends there, in the breath of a trivial question what are you waiting to do for a lifetime. With my heart in my throat.
And you're a fucking afraid to say no.
Although, after the hell through which you passed around by hand, you're almost certain to be the only man who can make her smile.
*
inconsistent That shadow covered his mouth with his hand.
"Do not!" He warned, pointing the finger on the nose, "Do not do it or I swear ..."
But she could not do it and so useless after a hint of resistance, laughed my lungs, without himself.
'Well, not exactly the answer I was hoping for, but it is always better than a no, "said fuming, leaving the face and throwing himself back on the bed.
"Sorry ..." he said, still laughing, "Sorry, but ...."
was stronger than her and could not stop.
"But what? Find the idea so much fun to be my wife? "remarked the placing of new pout, offended by the reaction he did not expect.
"Mike ..."
This time the tone of the shadow play had stopped.
"What?" He muttered quietly.
Becky shook her wrists and opened her arms, laid her cheek on his chest.
"If this is not a dream, I'd say yes. A thousand times yes. "
Michael's eyes lit up with satisfaction, even if he wanted to do some 'the sustained for a little revenge.
"Now I must go."
"Go? Where? No! I will not! "
" I "whispered with my cheek still resting on his heart.
"No!" He insisted, determined not to wake up. He put a hand on her stomach and began to caress her, to try.
remembered as the real Becky wanted to be cuddled by his gesture and was willing to do anything not to see it vanish.
"Oh, Mike ... I gotta go. I have to. "
"I'll see you?" Asked resigned to not retain it.
"No".
Michael grew close, crushing it on the mattress, imagining, doing so can avoid losing it. But it was like trying to hug a butterfly without killing it.
"Please do not leave me!" Pleaded with the same tone of voice childlike and desperate, which Alec had turned to him for help.
"Do not I, Phelps. But you must promise me one thing. "
Michael raised his brow. "What?"
touched his mouth with his fingertips. Unlike those of Rebecca, his were warm and full of life.
"What I do not seek more. You have to forget about me, and go further. Do not look for me, Mike. Never again. "
jumped on the bed, his mouth wide open. Air breathed quickly, raising and lowering the chest. He opened the bedroom window and a bright light flooded the room, dragging him away the ghosts of the night.
was almost ten in the morning.
He ran a hand through his hair and looked at his shirt soaked with sweat and tears.
"It was a dream," murmured agitated.
He looked around, while the mind regained lucidity and calmed the beating heart. Then a thought there was room among others, on the rise.
"Now I know what I do," he declared safe and very determined, his eyes fixed on the dress of woven wool with linen.
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