That was the moment I discovered my new drug. It no longer came in the comfort of Pike or Declan. No. It came from the devil’s hand—my hand—and in that moment, I felt a sense of power in my ability to stave off the misery with a blissful brutality that births an endorphined high.
Sighing in refreshed relief, I stand and right myself in front of the mirror before lifting the hem of my top to see the destruction on my body. When I observe the blood pooling beneath my skin, swelling in pink glory, I smile in pride. Contusions mar my skin in reward, and I’m pacified.
This is pain I can deal with. No longer do I have anyone to lean on to alleviate this discord inside of me. All I have is myself. So with a sickening delight, I enjoy my moment of assuagement before returning to my seat to cradle my doll.
LANDING, CUSTOMS, BAGGAGE claim, and rental car. Here I sit in the parking lot, on the other side of the world from where I just came from.
Alone with no plan, no direction.
I sit awkwardly on the right side of the car, wondering if I’ll be able to drive without killing myself or someone else. No time like the present.
“Here we go,” I murmur to myself and then shift the car to pull out of the parking space.
As I leave the airport and start driving through Edinburgh, the scenery astounds me. Declan wasn’t lying when he said the landscapes were breathtaking. Freezing rain falls from the dark, grey sky over the Old World city. Stone buildings from another lifetime line the streets, and I’m in awe of the historic beauty. Horns honking pull me away from the sights, and I quickly yank the steering wheel when I realize I’m entering a round-a-bout the wrong way.
“Shit,” I screech while waving my hand in apology to the other drivers I nearly sideswiped. Driving on the opposite side of the car, opposite side of the street, has me tense and thrown off.
Turning out of the circle of death, I resume cautiously until I find a place to stop to get a bite to eat. I’m drained from traveling, and when I walk into the quiet restaurant, the hostess sits me at a table towards the back of the small dining room.
“Water?” the woman asks, hair the same shade of red as my own, piled up in a bun on top of her head.
“Please.”
“Flat, sparkling, or tap?”
“Flat,” I answer and then watch as she walks away, dazed in my unfamiliar surroundings.
These people are clueless to the world I just left behind, to the people I destroyed, to the beast I am. They sit, chatting quietly, very different from the loud and boisterous American manners, and I settle in the hushed atmosphere, looking over the menu.
“Here you go,” the waitress says in her thick Scottish accent as she sets the carafe of water on the table after pouring a glass for me. “What can I get for you, lassie?”
Unsure of the menu choices, I tell her, “Something warm and savory.”
“You’re American?”
I smile and nod, and she then suggests, “Rumbledthumps.”
“What?”
“Traditional Scottish dish. Will warm you up from the cold weather.”
It takes a few extra seconds to decipher her words through her accent. I never had difficulty understanding Declan, but this woman’s native tongue is coated much heavier than what I’m used to hearing.
“Thank you,” I respond, handing her the menu, and after I take a long drink of water, I pull out my phone to attempt to get a game plan together.
Once I gain access to the internet, I type in the name of the estate Declan told me about. I remember him telling me it was outside of Edinburgh, but I can’t remember where exactly. All I know is, I need to see the house. I need to know it’s real. I need to see what could have been mine if only I’d run with him when he asked me to.
Pulling up the search engine, I type in:
Brunswickhill Estate Edinburgh Scotland
It takes only a few seconds for the property to pop up on several different realty websites. I click on the first link, and when a picture of the estate pops up, my stomach sinks. Sitting here, I don’t breathe as I stare at the home Declan begged me to live in with him. I swipe the screen with my finger to view the other pictures. One by one, I see what was so close to being my life—my fairytale. It’s just as he described: a Victorian mansion set within immaculate grounds covered in lush greens, flowers, trees, and the grotto. I recall Declan telling me how much I would love the grotto that’s built from clinker.
Why didn’t I run with him when he asked?
Scrolling down the page, I note the realtor as being Knight Frank.
After taking a few minutes to read the online brochure of the estate and looking through the rest of the photos, my food arrives. I take small bites of the potato dish, trying to find comfort in the richness, but my knotted stomach makes it difficult to enjoy. Beneath my skin, wounds slowly split.
Setting the fork down, I start searching online for the public records on the house. It takes a little while, but I finally find what I’ve been trying so hard to hide from. But it’s here in black and white, right under my fingertips. The words informing that the bank seized the estate, and the date this occurred was only a few short weeks after Pike killed Declan. I can still taste his blood from when I took my last kiss.
I read further to find that it didn’t take long for the place to resell to a private buyer using an undisclosed trust. I’ve come to know through Bennett that this isn’t an uncommon occurrence among the wealthy. But regardless of the new ownership, I still want to see it. I mark the address and pull up the directions to find it’s located about an hour away in Galashiels. Taking one last bite of food, I get the attention of the waitress so that I can pay and be on my way.