An Eye For An Eye

Soixante-Seize

I stood in the kitchen, furiously scribbling down an idea in my notebook as I sipped my coffee. In the last week, I had written more than I had done in the last month.

"You're writing."
"Of course I am," I said. It was all I ever seemed to be doing lately.
"What are you writing?"
"Why would you care?" I asked. We had been in the same room as each other several times but he had stopped trying to talk to me
"Because I like your writing," he said. "It's brilliant."

I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. What could I say to that?

"There was an air of tranquillity as the water cascaded down the rocks, with the nearby leaves from the overhanging trees occasionally getting sprayed with droplets of water. The pool was so clear she could see worn down pieces of glass and bits of pottery scattered amongst the pebbles. As she stepped in, the water was cold but she braved it and stayed standing in the shallows where the water barely reached her ankles."

I set the pen and my half-empty cup of coffee down and turned to look at Deuc.
"You remember that?" I asked.
"It's my favourite part," he said, smiling a little. He always said that, no matter how many times I asked. His favourite part was always the waterfall.
"Yeah, but..." I took a moment to take a deep breath and tentatively took a step towards him. "But that sounded like it was word for word. I mean, I think it was. I wrote it and I don't know it word for word."
"It just seemed to stick, you always sounded so content when you were reading it to me," he said quietly. Deuc took a step towards me and this time I didn't back away. "There was always an underlying sadness until you started writing and reading it to me."

I glanced down and then back at him. I had read that to him months ago and yet somehow he still remembered it, better than I did.
"I know you're still sad. I wish there was a way for me to earn your forgiveness, or at the very least make you happier for a while." He didn't have to rip my heart out like that, not when I was still utterly infatuated with him. "I've heard you crying, and it hurts so much more than I would have ever imagined. I don't want you to be upset, not like this, not because of me."

Tears welled up in my eyes but I blinked them away.
"Do you remember any other bits from my books?" I asked, trying to change the topic back to something tolerable.
"It's like tiny silver fragments have been scattered onto the dark blue canvas of the sky," he said. My brow furrowed. That wasn't from any of my books.
"That's..."
"Not from one of your books, I know," he said. "But I still remember it."

"That date went a lot better than the first one," I said quietly. It had been great to sit in the park together, describing the sky to him.
"It did," he agreed. He frowned and I did too. Our first date had been such a mess because of Gerard.

"Do you remember anything else?" I asked quietly. Deuc could remember what I said better than I did.
"And the world was quiet for a moment, but that was all that she needed." I smiled a little and walked over to him.
"It's impressive," I said. He smiled a little. "And insane, I don't even remember that."
"It's hard to forget when it's your voice I'm hearing," Deuc said. I looked down for a second, he still knew how to make me speechless.

"Deuc..." I sighed as his hand moved to my cheek, gently caressing it. This time, I didn't flinch away. "I haven't forgiven you, I can't."
"I know, and that's alright, my love. At least you can be in the same room as me without yelling or hating me."
"I didn't hate you," I pointed out. He had pointed that out himself. "I don't hate you. It's just hard when I've lost everything again, when I looked at you all I could see was Charles and..." I trailed off. It was more repulsion than hate. And the repulsion had been fading.

"I know. I miss them too," he whispered. My frown deepened as I looked down. "Do you think I don't mourn them?"
"I don't know," I said honestly. I hadn't thought of that. "Gerard never did."
"I'm not your father, Liza," he said. Looking up at him, he too was frowning. "I mourn them, I miss them. They were my friends, some of which I had turned to prevent their deaths. I've known them for years."

"You chose to kill them."
"Yes, and I still believe in those reasons. I did what I had to," he said. But it wasn't necessary or needed, he didn't have to do it. "But that doesn't mean that I don't miss them."
"I miss them too," I said quietly. Saying it out loud lifted a weight off my shoulders and I felt physically lighter, "I was becoming good friends with Charles and Tamika."
"Charles came from a family of lawyers, they've been my family's lawyers for generations. We were sort of friends even before his accident," he said quietly. I smiled a little. "Our mothers were friends when we were children."

"You know, I had time to think about something. Tamika mentioned going to Beacons Hills when she was in high school, I think we were in some classes together," I said. "But she moved around a lot, she wasn't there for long, which is why I didn't really remember her at first." Tamika wasn't dead, but I missed her as if she was. I would never be able to see her again, or he would likely kill her.
"Her father owned a construction company, that's why they moved around so often."
"Yeah," I said, nodding. That sounded like what Tamika had mentioned before.

"I'm not your father, Liza." Deuc had said that earlier. It was true, obviously. He wasn't my father.
"I know, he didn't care when he killed Kara's dad." But Deuc did care. It sounded like it hadn't been his first choice either. "He was more interested in starting a war."
"And you ruined his plans," said Deuc, smiling slightly.
"He talked about people and lives like they were chess pieces he was sacrificing. I'm glad I ruined his plans." It was sickening. It had been less sickening than what Deuc had done, but now I wasn't sure. Deuc missed them, and was grieving. Gerard never did.

"You know," he started. "I never thought I'd miss Tasha complaining so much." I couldn't stop the laugh that escaped my lips.
"Neither did I."