53. Sacred love
Shirleen sat at the bottom of the staircase looking at the white living room at Angela's house. It looked so plain and impersonal. Stacey had given Angela some medications immediately they got back to the house that put her to sleep so her body could have the opportunity to heal. With her pain receptors destroyed she needed to stay in bed as still as possible for a week to ensure healing. If she moved recklessly, she would not know if she tore of her sutures and started bleeding all over again because she won't feel it. Shirleen finally understood why Angela had recruited Stacey, who was once a gifted surgeon as her personal assistant. Every time she was wounded, she needed to be put unconscious for a duration of time to ensure her wounds are healed before she could start walking around again. She also understood why Angela didn't have pictures or anything personal decorating the house. The only memories she had cherished were inside the vault in her office, a floor below the condo she used when she had to stay up late at night in her office working. When she had come for dinner a month ago, she had just found out about her real parentage. It had taken her a week to accept what had been in that file and all she had wanted was to see her real mother. She had already guessed half of the story but she had been afraid to learn all of it. The woman she had hated nearly all her life turned out to be the woman who had sacrificed everything for her including her own father and uncle. She was pulled back from her musings when someone sat beside her. She didn't have to turn to know who it was. They sat together silently not knowing where to begin. "Did you know I remember everything that I see?" she asked him. "I didn't know it was something special, my memory, until I realised some people struggle to remember what they ate yesterday. But not me, I remember everything. I remember on my fifth birthday I wore a pink ruffle dress that I hated but mum seemed to love it. The cake was blue in colour my favourite at the time. You arrived at the party just when the sun was setting. You wore blue jeans and a black shirt. In one hand you carried your Samsung and iPhone and in the other my gift wrapped in silver with blue moppets. Fascinating isn't it? They call my condition hyperthymesia," she said looking at her hands. That was why she could remember that night Shirley died so well because her memory was extraordinary. "Does knowing I am not Shirley's daughter make a difference?" she finally asked not looking at him.
"No," he said vehemently turning to look at her. "I would have loved you as much as Shirley's daughter. Both of you were my children. How can a father not love his children?"
"But if Angela had kept me you would still have chosen Shirley and her daughter," Shirleen said with acceptance and her father did not refute her. "It was your fault you know," she said softly staring at the white room in front of her. "You played with both and you broke both their hearts. One of them became so anguished she turned to drinking and sleeping pills when the other decided to throw away her emotions and become a monster because she did not have the luxury for weakness. What kind of man are you?"
"I was young and arrogant and all I thought of was my ambition and giving Shirley the life, she deserved," he said his voice filled with sorrow.
"At the cost of another woman's happiness?" she asked incredulously turning to look at the man she had admired most of her life. "You destroyed four lives with your arrogance and to make matters worse you had the audacity to blame Angela for your choices and your mistakes by torturing her all this time with other women." Her father was shocked at her knowledge of the women he had used to ensure Angela suffered. "Pandora showed me everything. Angela made sure I could access Pandora as her daughter even if she had made sure I would not find out about our relation. She gave up her family for you. Angela was going to be a chef, did you know?" she asked him. "Of course, you didn't. The day before she found out about Shirley, she had just completed renovating a three-storey high building in Westlands. She had turned the building into a lounge and restaurant. She was going to be the head chef when it opened within a month. That night she was going to tell you. It was meant to be a surprise. Take two guesses who was surprised that night?" she asked disappointed.
Lawrence buried his face in his hands ravaged with heartfelt pain. Oh, he could guess alright and it wasn't him. "She went back the next day and walked through the whole building, the wine bar that was already stocked, the kitchen that was ready for use, the dining area filled with tables and cozy leather seats just enough to be romantic, the balcony that had the perfect view of a beautiful garden filled with nooks and crannies for romantic couples wanting privacy under the moon and the stars, the cocktail bar on the second floor for those who want to imbibe with good music in the air and extremely potent but delicious cocktails. She no longer had to risk her life killing whoever her father pointed her to. The only thing she would have been risking was fire in the kitchen as she tried to cook. That future she had foreseen it in that lounge and restaurant. Instead of opening it in one month she bulldozed the place and started building a night club. You might know it; it is called Decadence. It has ten floors with six being above ground and four underground, one of those being basement parking. The other three underground levels are for members only. It is quite popular if you must know. Twenty-six years later and it is still booming. People literally fight to get into the normal club let alone the private one," she said sarcastically, "I wonder why they never approved your membership after applying for more than twelve times. Oh yeah, now we know why."
"I didn't know," Lawrence whispered ravaged with anguish.
"Would anything have changed if you had known?" Shirleen asked bitterly, her voice full of scepticism and disbelief.
"Yes," Lawrence shouted with conviction and then whispered, "Yes." Shirleen turned to him surprised waiting for him to elaborate. "I had already started to fall in love with my wife," Lawrence whispered as if it was something to be ashamed of. "I had promised Shirley to love only her for a lifetime but suddenly I was feeling drawn to the woman I had married for my personal gain. I found myself liking the way she only laughed in my presence, she thought I was the funniest person on earth. Her laugh was always husky and rough as if she was not used to laughing. Her cooking made sure I was home by five in the evening. I liked spending time with her on the carpet in front of the television every evening watching the terrible movies she chose. I liked her lopsided smile because it looked as if she couldn't choose whether to smile or not. I liked how her eyes lit when she saw me like I was her light in a dark tunnel. I had no idea she had gone through hell and back living with her father. I was slowly starting to fall in love with her and memories of Shirley were slowly becoming a shadow. So I began panicking."