We don't want to be like them. We can make it till the end. Nothing can come between. You & I...
You & I - One Direction
ISABELLA
I've always wondered if it was possible to stand still for an amount of time, that it seemed as if everything else grew still. You stood so still, so quiet, that the world around you becomes silent, and that the only thing that is screaming is your restless mind. It had always been a passing thought. It was something that I wondered, but never found myself in a situation to test my theory.
That was until this moment. Right now, as I stood in front of my parents home, with an overnight bag in one hand, and a can of cranberry sauce in the other.
The wind was especially frigid tonight. Maybe it was because it was a late December evening, or it was because of what was to happen.
I looked at my watch. Six fifty-eight. It was two more minutes until I was due to arrive. I had spent the long car ride over debating whether or not I should come in late. I knew that my father was a stickler for time. He had preached since I was a child that importance of being on time. It showed professionalism and responsibility. Even if I was only two minutes late to an engagement, he would have my head.
At the time I didn't care. But now, what with everything that I knew, I didn't want to do anything that would cause more trouble.
Six fifty-nine.
With a deep breath, I knocked against the hard wood. My knuckles tingled at the sensation. I waited for the familiar clinking of heels that would belong to either a maid or my mother.
I was surprised to see neither of the two but Natalia. I had spent the night at Harry's and hadn't seen Nat at all. There was a sense of relief that flooded through me.
"Hey, you're here. Good," she opened the door wide enough to let me in. I stepped through the familiar threshold. Memories of my time here only a few weeks prior came rushing back to me. I held my breath for a second, hoping my heart would calm down.
I knew that I had to put up a front. Dylan had advised me that it would be best to not let my father know exactly what I know. I had to act as if everything was fine; as if it was normal.
"They're in the sitting room."
I followed her through the foyer. Our heels clicking agains the tiled floor.
It had been a tradition since I could even remember to dress up for Christmas Eve dinner. I was hesitant. I couldn't stomach the thought of being in the same room as the man who tried to murder my boyfriend. My stomach churned when I thought about the lengths that he has gone to try and ruin something that means everything to me. I still don't understand why he is out to ruin our lives. I still don't understand what I have done for him to have developed this hatred and animosity against me. But one thing I do understand, and that's this was not the man that I called my father.
"You okay?" whispered Natalia, as we stood a few feet away from the sitting room. I looked at her, hoping that my blank expression masked the fear that was dwelling inside me.
"Yeah, of course," I lied. I wasn't okay but I couldn't let her know that.
She searched my eyes for any sign of falsity, and I knew that she saw right through me. But she didn't say anything else. With a short nod, she led us the rest of the way.
The Christmas tree was lit with golden lights. Red and gold ornaments hung from each branch. It looked like something from a Martha Stewart catalogue. I knew that my mother had moved back home a month ago.
"Appearances, Isabella. I cannot allow the women of the club to know that your father and I are no longer on speaking terms," was my mother's excuse. Of course she would rather live in a home that was nothing but darkness if it meant living up to the Upper East Side standards.
She always put her public image before her own happiness.
I walked into the room. The fireplace was lit, but the atmosphere felt frigid.
My father was sat on his armchair. His nose buried in a newspaper and a glass of scotch on the coffee table in front of him. Mother stood to his far left, preoccupied with the drink table. She was fixing herself what looked to be a glass of gin and tonic.
"Her second one," Nat quietly informed me. The corners of my lips tugged down in a frown. I had naively hoped that she had put the breaks on her drinking habit, but it looked like she hadn't. "Izzy's here."
Nat's peppy voice broke through the tension that hung heavily above us. Mother stopped what she was doing, and turned her body to face us. Her thin lips were painted red, and were stretched in to a fake smile.
"Darling, you're here. Excellent. You look beautiful," her eyes appraised me, her fake smile not faltering.
I mustered up a smile of my own and thanked her. Father didn't look up once from his paper. Instead, greeted me with a short, "Hello Isabella."
I felt my anxiety grow. I clutched onto the handle of my overnight bag, unsure of what to do or say next.
"I can have Camila take your bags," mother continued, pointing at my mint green Ted Baker suitcase - a gift from Liv for my birthday, and grey purse.
"No. Um - it's okay. I'm going to bring it up to my room... freshen up a bit," I declined her offer. I needed to get out of this room, if only for a moment.
"Alright then. Hurry up, though. Dinner is ready," she answered tersely.
Nat followed me up the daunting stairs that led us to our bedrooms. It hadn't changed since I had been here last. It was obvious that mother had sent in the maid to make sure that the dust had been cleared and our sheets were washed.
I flopped my purse onto my queen sized bed, and pushed my bag to the side. Without hesitation, I laid down on my back. "Why are we here?" I groaned.
I felt Nat beside me. Her petite body following suit, laying down beside me. She took my hand in hers, our fingers interlocking like we used to do as kids. "I don't want to be here either. The vibe down there is awful. You could cut the tension with a knife."
"You'd need a machete to cut through the air down there."
"True," she replied with a small laugh. "God. It's Christmas but it doesn't even feel like it. What happened to our family?"
"I don't know," I mumbled. "It hasn't been normal for years."
It was true. Nothing felt the same since I moved away for school. It only became worse when I decided to go to London. I don't know why it became the way that it did, but I missed the easy going nature of my childhood holidays.
"It was the only time of year that this place actually felt like a home and not a museum," I continued.
We laid there for a little bit longer. Neither one of us talked, but instead basked in the quietness of my childhood bedroom.
Soon after, I knew it was time to go back downstairs. I could only imagine how annoyed our mother must be since we took much longer than she had asked of us.
The dining room was set for eight. Four more place settings than our normal dinner attendance. "Are we waiting for people?" I asked after taking a seat in my normal place.
"Yes. They're running a bit late. Traffic. They should be here soon," answered mother. She took a seat at one end while father took a seat on the other. Nat sat in front of me, one of her brows quirked up.
"Who?" She mouthed to me, but I shrugged my shoulders. I had no clue who else could be joining us.
My first thought was Livia, but I knew that her family drove up to her grandparents house in Hartford. I couldn't think of anyone else that could be our Christmas Eve dinner guest.
The doorbell rang shortly after. My mother was quick to stand to her feet. Her hands clapping together as she walked towards her front door. I watched quietly as my father tapped his fingers against the wooden table. Impatience was written all over his features.
I could hear the faint mumbling of voices. Their sound floated through the hallway, the clicking of shoes masked their words.
It was his dark brown hair that I noticed first. It was cut short. A dark blue button up shirt covered his torso which he paired with black dress pants. He looked good, but I brushed the thought quickly.
"Leo, Francine - this is my daughter Natalia. I believe you know my other daughter Isabella," standing beside my mother was Ty and his parents, Leo and Francine Bach. I had only met them twice, and each time was amicable. However, this didn't mean that I wanted to share my Christmas dinner with them. "And this is my husband, Franklin."
My mother's cheery voice drowned out the confused thoughts that were rushing through my mind on high speed. I didn't - no, couldn't, understand why they were here. The last time I checked, Francine and my mother were not friends. They met on occasion at their weekly book club meetings, but that didn't constitute an invite to our family dinners.
I could feel Ty's eyes on me, but I refused to look at him. The last time we talked, he told me that he was in love with me while the man I loved ran off. He had my father's approval. He helped my father ruin my relationship. I didn't want to see him, let alone be in the same room as him.
I held my tongue, however, not wanting to embarrass my mother. Once again, I chose to put her feelings above my own. A habit that I was drowning myself in.
"It smells wonderful in here, Lilly." complimented Francine, as she took a seat on the right side of mother. I watched as Ty walked over to the open chair beside Natalia.
"Ty, my boy. Why don't you take a seat right beside me," father's voice boomed, startling all of us. I looked between both of my parents, trying to get a read on them. They were ignoring one another, but their obvious scheming did not go unnoticed by me. I bit my cheek to stop myself from calling them out.
Ty took a seat in the empty chair between mine and father's. He didn't say anything to me as he took a seat. I kept my focus on the empty plate in front of me.
This couldn't be happening.
Dinner was served once we were all seated. I looked at the only empty chair. "Are we not waiting for anyone else?"
Mother looked at the seat. Her cheeks going red slightly, before she gathered herself. "Last minute cancellation," she responded with a small shrug.
Conversation fell over the table as we ate our salads and soup. I didn't participate, my mind going circles over everything that was happening so far. I had my suspicions that explained Ty and his family's sudden appearance, but kept them to myself.
"Ty, tell me. What have you been doing over this past year?" asked father. I kept my head down and put all of my focus into my chewing.
Ty coughed, clearing his throat. "Well sir, I recently got a job in my father's firm in the finance department. It wasn't something that I originally wanted to do, but it's not too bad. The pay is great and I enjoy it."
"A steady job is always important to have. It's the only way you can provide for a family," remarked father.
I bit my tongue from making a sarcastic remark. I wasn't oblivious to his subtle mocking of Harry and his job. I knew that his career of choice wasn't conventional, but it paid well and he truly loved it. But I knew that Franklin Maxwell didn't see it like that. If it wasn't in the same line of work as his own, then it wasn't worthy of his approval.
"Yes, sir," chuckled Ty. He took a bite of his chicken and wiped the edge of his mouth with a napkin.
"Isabella," called Leo Bach. I looked up from my own dinner, and plastered a fake smile on my lips.
"Yes?"
"I heard you were living in London. Are you home for the holiday season?"
"Um, no. I moved back earlier this year."
"For work, I presume? Ty mentioned that you graduated in business. With your father's work, I'd assume that you would join him." Leo took a sip from his glass of water, his question hanging awkwardly in the air.
"Actually, I'm not working for my father. I'm a manager at one of the bookstores on the NYU campus. But I have an interview in the new year with Buckley Publishing," I answered him with confidence.
Leo quirked an eyebrow. "Buckley Publishing... and what do you plan on doing for them?"
"Administration and reception."
"You're a receptionist?" scoffed Leo.
"But, hopefully, through that position, I can work my way up into something with publishing or editing. That's the goal, at least." I answered him with an even voice, and ignored the judgement that dripped from his tone.
I could feel my father's eyes burning into the side of my head. I could almost envision the frown that was surely etched across his lips.
"Publishing is a great business to get into, Isabella. However, I don't know if you'll be able to get far with a receptionist position. Normally CEO's and associates will look over those lower positions and choose someone with better credibility. Though I'm sure with your father's name, you can get any position your heart desires," he retorted in response. It wasn't out of malice but of observation.
The name Franklin Maxwell held power. Everyone was well aware of who he was and what he did for a living. He owned shares and stocks all throughout the city. Not only that, but his name was tied to over a hundred restaurants and hotels.
"I prefer to get my own career by my work ethic and merit, not through my father's name. I'm more than capable of achieving my own success. I don't need to buy it," annoyance fell off of each word that came from my mouth. I was annoyed and felt a rush of animosity towards both men. I hated that I was looked down upon.
"Izzy's smart. I'm sure they'll hire her without her last name," Ty interrupted. I turned my head and looked at him - emotionless. Who was he to stand up for me? Again, I was more than capable to handle this on my own.
"I don't need your help, thank you." I know that I was being rude the moment the words left my mouth. It was a bit uncalled for, considering he was only trying to help me. But, I was annoyed that he was even here in the first place. I was also bothered by the look of wonderment that masked my father's face as he looked at Ty.
It was sickening.
"Iz-"
"I don't even understand why you're here in the first place."
"Isabella. Don't be rude to our guests," My mother's perky voice reprimanded from across the dining table. Her lips were formed in a straight line. Her brown eyes narrowed as she gave me a look.
"Why? I don't know if you realize this or not, but Ty was one of the reasons that my relationship with Harry was ruined. He only fed into dad's probing and obvious shunning against Harry when he was here last. I'm sorry but I don't want to be around people who have an overt distaste for the people I choose to have in my life."
Everything that Dylan had advise me on - to keep my cool and act as if nothing was wrong, went out the window in that instant. I couldn't sit here and pretend that I was okay with my father, or that sitting this close with Ty was normal. He admitted he was in love with me. He assisted my father in ruining my relationship.
Ty was aware of the distaste that my father had with Harry. He used his feelings for me to ruin my relationship. I wasn't going to sit and pretend that this wasn't true.
"Izzy, you know that's not true," tried Ty. I gave him a dirty look, unimpressed.
"That's enough," Father's loud voice boomed across the table. I felt my body freeze at the rough sound that emitted from him. All I could think about was him yelling in his phone to whoever it was on the other line, shouting at him or her for not finishing the job. For not taking my love's life. "I will not have this talk in my home. Isabella, we are not out to get you. I don't know where you got this twisted thought from, but you're wrong. Perhaps you've become delusional since being away from home, living in some fantasy life. But I will assure you that neither Ty nor am I trying to sabotage your relationship."
I scoffed loudly, "That's bullshit and you know it."
I've never seen a man's face turn red before. However, the olive skin of my father's face had turned a shade of pure red that could only be acquainted with hatred and anger. He was mad... furious. "I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me. That's complete bullshit. I know that you hate Harry. You made that clear when you talked to him like he was beneath you last Christmas," I replied, keeping out the information that I already knew.
Natalia looked at me, her eyes flashed with warning.
"I'm not sure where you got that idea from. Words were exchanged that night, sure, but only revelations that needed to be said. Ty's disclosed feelings were not of my doing. I was merely pointing out that Harry isn't good enough for you. He has nothing going for him, and is unable to provide for you financially or the stability that you need. Something that Ty could easily give you."
I barked out a laugh. This was ridiculous. Pathetic. I felt like I was going out of my mind. He was truly the one that was living in a delusional state.
"I'm sorry, but you cannot tell me who I am to love and to not love. That is not your call."
"I am your father. Whatever I say, goes."
"You know... this is so fucked up. You're fucked up," I shrieked. My voice reaching hysteria. I wanted to shout. To tell him that I knew what he was up to. But I couldn't. I knew the repercussions if I did.
"Isabella, this is enough. Please," my mother pleaded. I looked at her and to Mrs. Bach. Her brows furrowed but a look of judgement in her eyes.
I was making a scene. Pulling a childish tantrum. But I could care less. I'm tired of always staying quiet and never speaking my mind.
"You know what mother? I'm sorry that our family isn't perfect. I'm not going to sit here and allow him to talk down to me as if I'm a child."
"Enough. Franklin," my mother pleaded. "Stop this."
He chuckled, bitterly. "What would you like me to do, Lilly? Our daughter is ruining her life, blaming us for her own mistakes. I only try to lead her to do what's right. To help her realize her potential. Ty is a good man and could do that. You know it, I know it, hell, Francine and Leo are fucking aware. Wasn't that the whole point of this dinner? To tell these two that they should be married?"
Fury lashed through me as I dropped my glass from my hand. "Marriage?! This has to be a fucking joke. You cannot tell me who I am supposed to marry. This isn't 1813 and I'm not Elizabeth Bennet."
"Oh please. No more with your literature parallels ," scoffed father.
"I don't mean to be rude, sir. But I agree with Izzy. You and my father cannot tell us who we're to marry. We're grown adults," spoke up Ty.
"Both of you come from very important families. Our family businesses are important and can be of good use for one another. However, for the two to merge properly, we need there to be a legal bond. Marriage," explained father nonchalantly. As if this wasn't the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.
"No. Absolutely not."
"I don't care, Isabella."
"I'm not a fucking business deal. I have my own feelings and rights. You cannot force me to marry someone for your own pleasure and gain."
"This isn't something that's up for discussion."
Voices rose as both Ty, our parents and myself broke into a boisterous and thundering rage. Our voices carried across the tables, each arguing our own points. It wasn't until the loud voice of my sister that everything stopped.
"I'm a lesbian!"
-
The cold air cut against my skin, but it felt like a sauna compared to inside. The moment Natalia broke the news of her discovered sexuality, the room had grown quiet. It was eerie. A pin could drop and everyone would hear it. I was thankful for her change of subject. An obvious save from a heated argument I didn't want to get into. I owe her.
At the same time, I was annoyed, frustrated, but mostly angry. I wanted to go back in there and prove my case. I was standing up for myself - something that I rarely did in the past.
The door behind me opened. The warmth of the inside breezed against my back, earning goosebumps to coat my exposed skin. I held my coat closer to my body, my glass of whiskey even tighter.
"Why are you here?" The quiver in my voice couldn't be ignored. I wanted to blame it on the cold December wind, but him and I both knew otherwise.
"I need to talk to you. I never had a chance to explain," he takes a seat beside me but leaves enough space between us.
"Really? You did a pretty good job inside," sarcastically I replied. "Just save it, Ty."
He exhaled a long breath. His arms slumped to his side as his body moved downward in the chair. "I never meant to hurt you. Last year, with Harry. I felt pressured to share my feelings. I didn't think it'd turn out the way that it did."
I scoffed, chuckling bitterly at the irony, "I'm sure you didn't."
"I didn't, Iz."
"Don't call me that."
He sighed. "Come on. Don't be like that," he reached for my hand. His much larger palm concealed my hand and fingers, hiding it from the world. I quickly pulled away. His touch felt like fire against my skin.
"Don't touch me."
Once again, Ty exhaled a sigh. "We used to be best friends. I was there for you when you needed someone to talk to. When you needed to get away from it all. What happened?"
"I changed. People change."
"You know, your dad's right. Harry - he's not good for you. He doesn't get this lifestyle. He wasn't made for this-"
"Neither am I," I hissed back. "And you don't have the right to tell me that Harry isn't good for me. You don't know him. You can't form an opinion on someone you don't know."
Ty's shoulders slumped. His head hung low as he breathed in slowly, "You're right. I'm sorry."
Silence fell over us once again. I didn't respond to his apology. I didn't have anything to say to it. I took another long sip of whiskey, the liquor burns my throat as it slides down. I was never one for hard liqueur but after a night like this, it was all I craved. The pain and the confusion that my family threw on me was haunting. The words that were yelled at across the heavy oak table left a mark on my heart and mind. I chuckled grimly. A cold shiver ran through me like an electric shock as I slurred out a slow, "Merry fucking Christmas," to the cold night air.