What? Her father? I know she hasn’t spoken too much about her family but this is insane. It makes my brain run wild when I try to work out the reasoning behind it.
“It’s not because of me though, there was a part of me that thought it might be. My dad didn’t know there was a connection between me and Stephen at all. Or me and you. He knows nothing, he just… well, from what the police told me he saw a murder happening on the cruise ship just after he was with me, like we suspected and that… well because he was a witness they wanted him gone.”
Sadness flicks through her eyes and I feel it too. Having the answers with what happened with Stephen is a part of the healing process but now I’m realizing that it isn’t all of it. The hurt is still there but so is the guilt. I guess that will just have to pass with time. At least his memory can be put to rest now, at least we still have all the answers. At least we know why. It doesn’t make it any less senseless, but still.
“I have been staying with my mom,” Tia continues. “It hasn’t been easy, our relationship is still a bit fractured, but we need each other right now. She is really struggling without Dad, but at the same time I think she understands this is necessary. He has to go to jail, you know? He’s the mastermind behind a criminal organization. He can’t keep doing that forever. It had to end sometime.”
I want to tell her that I love her, I want to finally get some words out my mouth and let her know but my vocal chords aren’t working at all. I’ve been rendered mute by the shooting.
On that thought I try to feel the gun shot wound, but I can’t. It’s almost as if it didn’t happen. They must have me on some pretty hefty pain meds. Enough to have me woozy all over again even though I’ve just woken up. I don’t want my eyes to close, I want to stay awake to listen to Tia some more but the fog is back, the need to sleep is wrestling me down and I don’t have the strength to fight it. My eyes flicker closed despite my desperate need for them not to and I give in to the blackness once more…
Chapter Twenty Two - Tia
“Is everything okay?” Mom asks me as she wanders into the kitchen to see me with my back pressed against the counter as I wait for the kettle to boil. It’s weird being back at home, but since Mom opened the doors to me and Kian while he heals. “You look very tired, Tia.”
I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. I am tired, shattered actually, but that’s mostly because I can’t sleep. I’m too scared to rest while Kian does because although he’s had the all clear from the doctor, I’m still scared that he’ll slip away. I just can’t help myself.
“I think I’m alright, Mom. Just keeping an eye on Kian. I need him to be okay.”
It’s an awkward topic of conversation that me and Mom keep trying to scoot around. It’s hard to deal with because she’s still upset about Dad and I’m sure she thinks that I’m not. I am upset, but not about him. I’ve never been close to him, he’s never been a Dad to me. We were just always strangers living under the same roof. I never really realized it until I went to college. Of course she misses him, he was her husband and the man who supported her through their adult life. I understand her point of view completely, but he needs to pay for what he’s done. It isn’t right to have him out on the streets killing others. Whoever he is.
No, I’m not sad about him at all, I’m just sad for Stephen. He didn’t need to die. His and Kian’s wonderful parents, Mary and Bob, didn’t need to lose a son. There are so many reasons that none of this should have happened… but at least the perpetrator is now behind bars. He’s going to be locked away for a very long time. Both of them are.
“Well you need to make sure that you get some rest yourself,” she continues while taking over the making of the drinks. “I understand why you feel so
responsible for Kian, but he wouldn’t want you to work yourself into the ground. You know that.”
“No, no, I know that.” I stifle a yawn, wishing I could be a bit stronger. “It’s okay. I’m good.” I narrow my eyes as I can almost see thoughts racing through Mom’s brain. She’s never been one for subtlety. “What is it, Mom? I feel like you have something to say.”
Her eyes well up with tears, I see a show of emotion that I don’t think I’ve ever seen from her before. “I guess I just want to know what your plans are once Kian is better. I know that you’ve been in New Zealand for a while, but you do know that you always have a place to live here. The both of you.”
I think about Mary and Bob in New Zealand. I think about Ashley and all my other friends. My job too. My boss has been very understanding, I know I still have a job when I go back… but that isn’t a decision that I want to make now. Not here while Mom is so emotional. I would much rather wait until we’re all in a much better place.
“I don’t know, Mom.” I say with a sigh taking the mugs from her. “I don’t want to think about that right now, I just want to take this one step at a time.”
She parts her lips, ready to say something but she seems to think better of it at the last minute and she nods mutely instead. I can see that she still needs me and I want to be there for her, I really do, but she hasn’t ever been there for me. She abandoned me when I needed her most. I told her what I heard Dad saying and she basically shut me down and suggested that she didn’t care. That led to Stephen being killed. I don’t want to be just like her but at the same time now is the time of my life when I need to start thinking about me.
“Right, I’m going to go and check on Kian,” I tell her with a small smile. “He’s still in bed, in a lot of pain today so I’ll go and see if he’s okay.”
“Yes. Of course.” She takes a seat at the table and looks pleadingly at me. “You’re a good girl, Tia. Kian is very lucky to have you. I hope he knows that.”
I smirk and turn. Hoping that he does too. I think he does, he’s been thanking me enough, but still it’s nice to hear it from someone else. Every moment I spend with him I find myself falling deeper and deeper in love with him. I just haven’t worked up the courage to say it yet. Kian is going through enough, I don’t want to pile on more pressure if he doesn’t feel the same way about me. I’ll just wait. It’ll be fine, I’m sure.
I push the door open with my foot and see the adorable slightly pale expression of Kian in front of me. He curves his lips upright into a smile as he sees me which warms up my heart. “How are you doing, sweetie?” I murmur as I step inside.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” he grumbles while pushing himself into a sitting position. “I’m looking forward to a coffee.”
I hand him the mug and he takes a massive gulp while rolling his head back and groaning in sheer pleasure. Caffeine seems to be just about the only thing that’s keeping him going at the moment. I love that I can help him with all his pain, even if it’s only in a small way.
“I’ve just been thinking everything through,” he continues to speak thoughtfully. “And it’s crazy isn’t it? It’s like a novel or a movie or something.” I nod slowly, barely paying too much attention to his words. “And I think it should be written down.” My head bobs up and down, but my ears aren’t really processing anything still. “Didn’t you used to write? Like, stories, I mean. Not just the newspaper stuff.”
Okay that gets my attention. I flick my eyes up to him and examine him closely. I try to work out what he’s trying to tell me in a roundabout way. I have told him that I like writing fiction and that I started to do so but I never told him the details. Stephen inspired it and it was kind of steamy. There are many things I tell him but not that. It’s too embarrassing to share.
“What I’m trying to tell you is that I think you should write the story of what happened to us.” He winces in pain but I hardly notice. His words have got the cogs in my brain absolutely flying. What we went through was like the plot of a book or something. I could use it to write something. It would be the perfect way to keep Stephen’s memory alive too which is something that I really want to do. “Don’t you think?”
“I… I don’t know. Yeah, I think that maybe I could.” The plot begins forming, all the details I haven’t forgotten come to the forefront of my brain once more. There’s so much to write about, it could be an amazing story. “That’s a really good idea.”
He takes my hand and stares up lovingly into my eyes. “I think you’ll do a really good job of it, you know. And I think it’s best for you to get back to writing. It’s something that you love, something you’re passionate about, something that deserves you to give it a chance. I want you to be happy, you know that?”