Scream For me

WESTON

“That young lady has her entire life ahead of her.”

My mother’s voice draws my attention as I walk back toward my room, instantly causing the smile on my face to disappear. She’s sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, sipping a glass of wine.

“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, Mother, but I’m well aware of that.”

“You know what I’m insinuating. I see the way you look at her, the same way your father used to look at anything with tits and two legs.”

“Don’t ever compare me to him again,” I mutter, taking a seat across from her.

“I know you’re nothing like him, but I can also see a poor decision brewing. I’ve known you your entire life, son, and for as much as you want to think you can lie to me, I’m still your mother.”

I sit silently, tapping my fingers on the armrest of the chair. “It’s not like that.”

“I know, Weston, that’s what concerns me.” I give her a questioning look. “Ever since Mira died, you haven’t kept a single woman in your life for more than a few months. Now you bring one along on a family vacation and let her get close to your daughter?”

“She’s her teacher and Daisy enjoys having her around; it’s for her benefit. I didn’t bring her home to meet the family. She’s being paid.”

“That doesn’t make it better when you come walking from her room shirtless. It makes it icky.”

I feel anger burn in my chest at my mother’s suggestion that somehow I’m paying her for her company or sex. She means more to me than that.

I’m about to say as much when I stop myself.

This is the first time I’ve felt anything for a woman since Mirabelle.

“We’re done here. Good night, Mother.” I stand and walk back to my room, shutting my door harder than necessary. I crawl into bed, hoping to fall asleep, but my brain is racing. I feel guilty for feeling something for Daphne, fear of acknowledging it for the first time. I also feel guilty for how I treated her earlier, and the things I said. In the moment I didn’t; she made me feel like my desires weren’t wrong or devious. Even earlier, when I told her I didn’t feel bad, I meant it, but after what my mother just said, it does make me feel like I fucked up.

I shouldn’t want to treat the woman I care about that way. I shouldn’t want to use her. I shouldn’t get off thinking about having her at my mercy while I fuck her. Then again, I shouldn’t care about Daphne Flowers at all.

I rationalize a list of reasons in my head why I’m feeling anything at all. Stress with this deal I’m working on, seeing Daisy connect with a woman so well and seeing her happy, guilt for not having a woman in her life permanently, and so on. Maybe that’s what all of this is-guilt. I feel guilty for how I treated Daphne in the past and my way of making it up to her is to make her feel desired and wanted. I flip my pillow over, hoping the coolness of it will help me relax, but it’s hopeless. I’m plagued with sleeplessness. I get up and walk over to my private balcony to sit in the balmy air.

Something I’ve never told a therapist or anyone is that a big part of my anger and frustration is directed toward Mirabelle for leaving Daisy and me behind. It’s irrational and completely baseless, but it’s the only way I can cope sometimes.

“FOUND ANOTHER ONE!” Daisy exclaims as she reaches into the sand and holds up a seashell. She runs over to Daphne who holds out her hands.

“That one is so cool!” She holds it up so they can both admire it before putting it into the bucket they’ve been collecting them in.

We’ve spent the entire morning and the better part of the afternoon on the beach. Paddleboarding, swimming, collecting shells, and building sandcastles. I try to keep my attention on the paragraph I’ve been reading for the last fifteen minutes, but my eyes are drawn to the two of them. That same feeling I had last night pulls at my heart. Seeing Daisy so happy, seeing how she and Daphne interact, feels so natural like we could be a happy family.

Family? That’s an F-word I didn’t think I’d ever say again.Belonging to NôvelDrama.Org.

My mother’s warning about Daphne having her entire life ahead of her rings in my ears, Daphne’s comment on its tail.

Only seventeen years.

Seventeen years isn’t the only kind of number-it’s a lifetime. Mira struggled with being in a relationship with me because I was too consumed with work and not there for her emotionally, something I didn’t even realize was happening until it was too late. People think the glamour of being married to a billionaire with a lavish lifestyle equates to happiness, but I’ll never forget her words.

I feel like I’m living in the Taj Mahal, my own beautiful, curated tomb that is cold and empty.

Those words haunt me. How could I not make that same mistake with Daphne all over again? I had my chance.

“Daddy, Daddy, look.”

“That’s a jellyfish, Daisy, that’s dangerous!” Daphne grabs her around the waist and hoists her out of the ankle-deep water and back onto the sand as I rush over.

“Yes, sweetheart, Miss Flowers is right. Those are extremely dangerous.

If you see one, let us know but run away.”

“Okay. I’m hungry,” she says, crawling up onto the beach bed as my mother approaches us from the resort.

“Are you guys having fun?”

“Yes, but Daisy is hungry so I think we will head back so she can get ready for dinner.”

“Your father and I are eating here with the Tallmans again. Why don’t we take her with us?”