22: Invasion of Privacy

Bryce

      What?!

      I sit here and quickly read through an entire page as the story of a single father unfolds before me, and I have an ache form in my chest more and more with every word I read.

     She's been writing.... me. It's not exactly me. Not really. Ashley didn't die in a drunk driving accident. I snort. Hardly. Still...

       I read on a little more as this "Lance" guy meets some woman... at a city park. My hands angrily run through my hair.
       It's well written. I can see the whole story unfold in my mind since it's just descriptive enough to give me the picture without getting bogged down in the details.

       But it's my life! Kinda. There are things that Lance does that I wouldn't do.

       "Daddy?" I hear from the other side of the bedroom door. 

       I walk over and open it. "Yeah?" I ask, trying not to sound agitated.

       "I'm going to bed now," she says, looking at me for all the world just like Ashley used to look at me as she calculated a way to get me to say what's on my mind.

        I want to scream and fall to the floor, curled up in a ball. Of course, I don't.

     Instead, I stand here and try not to see my ex-wife in the little girl in front of me. I don't understand exactly what I'm feeling, but I know that being pissed off is part of it... hurt might be another.

     "Okay," I say simply, my voice just a little bit higher than normal as I work hard to hide my feelings.

      "Daddy, what's wrong?" she asks.

      "Nothing. Don't worry about it," I say quickly.

     "You know, if you want to have Erin spend the night, I'm okay with it. I mean... well... that's not saying I really expect it to happen. It's just... well... um... I can tell that...." She groans in aggravation, and now she looks like me, thank God. "I just want you to be happy," she finishes real fast. 

       She guessed wrong about what is making me so upset though.

      Oh God, my heart is breaking. Adele is still standing there staring up at me as I try not to come apart at the seams.

      "Good night, Adele," I say to make her leave me alone.

      "Daddy, please tell me what's wrong!" she demands as she follows me to the computer. She stands right next to me as I push the power button. I can't look at it anymore.

       "Good night, Adele," I say again, this time heavily implying that she needs to leave.

       "Fine!" she snaps and slams my door on the way out.

       I turn out all the lights and stare at the ocean as I stand outside on my balcony.

       She came here to escape, to run away. She came here to become a writer. She didn't come here to get in another relationship.
       But she found one hell of a story in the meantime, I think and let out a painful exhale.
       "Say it, Bryce. Come out and say it," I say aloud. "She doesn't love you. She's studying you, and you keep getting too close so she pushes you away." She even admitted that I helped her get an idea to fix a more recently-written part.
       This is why she didn't want me to read it. She doesn't want me to know. I think that's what gets me the most. She's been doing this behind my back.
       I wonder when she started it.

       I stand here on the balcony, not thinking much anymore, just feeling the pain engulf me. I'd let her in... someone I hardly knew. I'm a fool. I'm nothing to her but a character for her book.
       After several minutes, I guess, of this, I walk back inside and lay myself down on my bed, fully clothed.
      "If you want Erin to spend the night, I'm okay with it," Adele's voice echoes in my mind. That was awkward... and a little late. Erin...
       Okay, so what now? Do I admit to her that I read it anyway without her permission? Do I try to keep going like nothing is wrong? Is that even possible?
        I don't want to try to pretend I don't know what's going on. I'm going to confront her with this, admit that I read it. I'm not going to play like there's not something else going on here. 
       I wonder what she'll say.

Erin

      I have to get to Bryce's computer! I think as I wake up at six a.m. I methodically eat my cereal, take a shower, and get dressed. Seven thirty. Adele has left for school. I go get on my scooter.
       I knock on his door, trying to act calm.

        He answers the door wearing nothing but some pajama pants and leans against the door. "Hi," he says stiffly before he walks back towards the kitchen, leaving the door open for me.
       Confused, I close the door behind me and follow him into the kitchen. I smell pancakes, and they smell better than what I had for breakfast.

      "Um, I need to go close out my book on your computer, if you don't mind," I say quietly. I decided to just come right out and say it.
       "That's fine. You know where it is," he says simply, not looking at me. Warning bells sound in my head. Something is wrong. I decide to figure it out after I get my book closed out. I can't think about anything else until I do that.

      I get upstairs and turn on the computer. Just as I expect, there's my book. However, it's not where I left off. Cold apprehension fills my veins. Bryce is in some kind of mood; my story isn't where I left it. Oh no. I close out the book and turn the computer back off before I quickly make my way back downstairs.
        I find Bryce sitting at the table and staring off into space with his breakfast in front of him. He doesn't appear to notice me. "Bryce?" I ask.
        "Yeah?" he asks, still not looking at me. He's hardly touched his pancakes.
        "Um..." What do I say? How do I tell him that my book wasn't where I left it off? My hands start shaking. He still won't look at me. "What's wrong?" I  finally ask.
        He stands up, picks up his plate, proceeds to dump the mostly-uneaten food in the trash, and places his plate in the sink. Finally, his eyes turn to me, and dread fills my being. He looks like he's trying to figure out how to say something.

        He shrugs ever so slightly before he says, "I read it." Then he stands there and obviously waits for my reaction.
       My voice sounds weak as I say, "I asked you not to."
       "I couldn't resist." The Bryce I thought I knew would've surely smiled here, but he doesn't. I feel a lump forming in my throat. "I turned on my computer to pass the time playing a game so that time would fly because I missed you, and there it was. Such interesting characters your book has. Engaging storyline. However did you come up with that plot?" he asks, his voice taking on more and more sarcasm.
       I feel all the air leave my lungs. Somehow, I manage to eke out, "I started it the day I met you at the park. Your situation intrigued me, and I thought it would make a good story."
       "It's well written. Might even be a bestseller," he says dryly, his compliment falling flat.
       "Bryce... please don't think-"
      "What? That you're only dating me because you want to study me for the book?!" I shake my head no, but he keeps going. "What kind of sick person does that?"
       The tears that had been threatening finally spill over. "That's not why I'm dating you! Lance isn't even really you anyway!"
       "Sure seems like me in the beginning at least!" he yells back. Then, his voice is normal volume as he asks, "Then why are you dating me anyway?"
       "I told you this already that day on the beach. I'm starting to... " I can't finish the sentence. I hate the way he's standing there with his arms folded, glaring at me.
       "Well?" he prods when I haven't said anything for a little bit.
       "Because I'm falling in love with you, you asshole!" I throw at him and walk out of the kitchen. I can hardly see where I'm going for the tears.
        "Wait," I hear him say quickly while he exits the kitchen behind me as I walk towards the front door.
         I keep walking. He has every right to be mad. I took his situation and turned it into a story. Maybe I'm not cut out to be an author. Maybe Ginger can get me a job at the library.
        Arms enfold around me from behind when I've nearly reached the door. "Please wait," he begs just before my hands fly to his arms and I let out a sob.

      With one arm on my waist and the other reaching up to my cheek to turn my head, he turns me around and immediately kisses me.
       I can't see for the tears. I'm still lightheaded from hyperventilating, knowing that he'd read my book and he was angry about it. I feel disoriented from being turned around and immediately kissed.
        Another sob escapes me that he stops as he deepens the kiss. The damn tears won't stop falling. I just can't get over how I've upset him that the book looks, starts out anyway, like it's taken right out of his life. He reaches up to brush the tears away with his thumbs as he continues to kiss me. I decide that I'm going to delete the whole thing at my first opportunity. It's all a load of crap anyway, and it certainly isn't worth losing Bryce over. Bryce... I think as I don't give a shit that I just ended a sentence in a preposition. Bryce, I love you. I'm so sorry.
      He stops kissing me with that sense of desperation and just starts doing it in an almost absentminded manner. My attention is drawn instead to the way he's holding me. His fingers are splayed out like he's trying to touch as much of me as possible while holding me close at the same time.
      He pulls back just enough so he can say, "I'm sorry I read the book without your permission." His eyes hungrily devour my face.
      I shake my head no. "No. I'm sorry I wrote the thing and made it so similar to your life. That's like... almost an invasion of privacy."
       The roguish grin that I realize now I desperately missed covers his face as he says, "You can invade my privacy any time you want."
      I throw my head back in an exasperated groan yet find myself giggling anyway within seconds. Then I feel his lips on my throat. My Bryce is back, I think as I feel his hand on my butt.