Artifice of Love

Chapter 2

That night Celine lay on her bed wondering if she had made the right decision or if everything was just a terrible mistake. What could a sixteen-year-old boy know about solving adult problems? He was just Elliot. Her spoiled, sheltered, younger half-brother.

It was stupid how a glimmer of hope had formed in her heart at his words. Of course she didn't expect him to be helpful but it was comforting to have someone on your side. However, she had to put an end to this foolishness before she grew weak.

Celine reached for her phone and dialed her mother's number. There was no reply. With much reluctance she tried her step-father's number. Again, no response. She dropped her phone on the lamp-stand beside her bed and closed her eyes. There would be plenty of time to voice her complaints tomorrow. Especially now that she was jobless.

Just when she was just about to fall asleep, Celine heard a knock on the door. It couldn't be anyone but Elliot.
With a sigh, she swung out of bed and opened the door, letting in a flood of light.

Elliot looked up at her, almost embarrassed. "I think there's a misunderstanding."

His brown eyes grew warm as he spoke. "I'm not here to mess up your life nor am I here to bother you."

He leaned against the side of the door. "I know we don't have the best relationship but I'd like to help you in any way I can."

Celine attempted to stifle a laugh. What could he possibly help her with? He was only a kid.

"Just go to bed," said Celine. "What you're doing right now is already bothering me."

Elliot gently shut the door behind him and walked back to the couch where he was sleeping.

Celine tossed and turned in bed, mulling over what he had said. Her brother had seemed strangely sincere but she didn't want to believe him. If she believed in him, that would make her wrong. It would make her wrong for resenting him for all these years.

It would also mean that she was wrong for disliking his father. For not accepting the fact that he had made her mother a better person. For selfishly missing her own father, who had brought nothing to the table but disappointment and loathing.

Elliot was not too different from his father. His curly black hair and bright smile matched those of the man that had swept her mother off her feet, causing Celine to live a life of isolation. Although she and Elliot shared blood, they had very different lives.

Celine rolled over and dialed Jeffrey's number. Her finger hovered reluctantly above the call button. Should she follow Elliot's advice and ask him for help? Swallow her pride and forget how he had broken her heart?

Before she could make a decision, her phone rang; the caller ID showed that it was Jeffrey. His profile picture stared up at her, displaying the curly dark hair, soft features and warm smile that had made their way into her heart when she had been naive and vulnerable.

What could he possibly want to say? After all these years he hadn't contacted her even once, ignoring all of her attempts to speak with him, as if he had grown bored of her, forgetting all the special moments they had shared together.

At least she thought they were special; maybe Jeffrey didn't agree. But it wouldn't hurt to find out his reason for contacting her, as long as her actions didn't convey the eagerness that tugged at her heart.

Holding her breath, she accepted the call.
"Hello."

Jeffrey's warm voice sent a jolt of electricity through her veins, reminding her of their summer days spent at the beach taking walks together, eating ice-cream, and laughing at a joke that only the two of them could understand. But now that was all gone, replaced by an empty bitterness that plagued her senses every time she thought of him.