Page 69 of The Square

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - ALEC

As I sit here, watching Danny hold Christine, a few things occur to me.

I should be pissed. She tried to kill me. She took up with my little brother, and for God knows how long plotted to bring my universe to an end.

Not only that, she did all this while still professing her love for me and standing by my side, and working with me, and doing terrible, violent things on my behalf even though I could have had anyone else do them instead. Because she said she wanted to. She is a very, very good liar, indeed. I have taught her exceedingly well.

Also, in the process of doing all those things to plot her revenge on me, something went horribly wrong and she was very nearly killed. But my girl is hard to kill and so instead, her fall just killed the parts of her memory that reminded her she hated me. Or so it would seem.

I continue to have many unanswered questions, but all roads lead back to my baby brother, who must be held to account for upending all of our lives so. And as soon as I can get a shave and some proper clothes, I’m going to visit with him and see to it that he is properly reprimanded. For what will be the last time.

But… I also consider that Christine came looking for me. Christine did. Not Danny. Not anyone else. Christine. And in so seeking, she conscripted the service of the one person on the planet I know she would least wish to ask help of. And she succeeded. She got me free.

And then I met my daughter for the first time. A tiny, female, 3-D printing of myself. Well, not only myself, of course. But in the brief moment I had with the child, there could be no mistake that she is a van den Berg. There is something resolute in her even now and even on just a brief glance.

Eish. It’s been a fokken day, man.

And all those tumbling, rumbling thoughts lead me to one logical realization:

It’s my fault.

It’s not Lars’. Or Christine’s. Or Eliza’s. Or Danny’s. Or anyone else’s culpability that has created this mess. It is my own set of defects that has caused this to be. It is my passel of imperfections that has resulted in the woman I love sitting in the back of a car, being held by the man I love, and mourning the loss of something so much greater than the sum of its parts.

I am responsible.

Responsibility is the burden of power. I have worked hard to possess power my whole life, and it is fitting that I must now bear the burden. Pride and ego are not in short supply for me, but neither is the tug I feel in my heart when I look at them. And that tug is strong enough to rip the pride and ego that would otherwise prevent me from speaking, right out of my chest.

“Christine…”

She buries her face into Danny and shakes her head. A muffled, “Leave me alone,” makes its way to my ear. Danny looks at me with a be fucking careful look. I will be, Danny. I am.

“I will. I will leave you alone, if that’s what you want. But as long as we’re in this car together, I feel like I should say a couple of things. And then, when we get where we’re headed, I can disappear and be gone for good. If that’s what you want.”

“I don’t know if that’s what I want,” she mumbles out. “I don’t fucking know.”

“I understand. I very much understand not knowing what you want. You know… when I woke up this last time—in that place—I actually did think I was dead. You know how I feel about death—”

“Like you can’t be killed because you are death or some stupid bullshit.” Her head remains buried in Danny’s chest.

I smile. I can’t help it. “That’s right. It is stupid bullshit. But I know that. You know I know that, right?” She pulls her face up just enough to regard me. I raise my brows and nod. “I do. I know it’s something I tell myself so that I won’t have to feel… whatever it is people feel. Because, believe it or not, I am also aware that I am a person.”

“I don’t believe it. People don’t act like you do.”

“No, good people don’t act like I do. But that’s not the point. The point is that I know that a lot of what I do and say is affect. But it serves a purpose. And for most of the last decade, that purpose has been to make sure that you… that both of you… are protected.”

That seems to have gathered their attention. I hope I can keep it.

I go on.

“And the simple truth is that I failed in that. I failed you. Not only did I not protect you, I am responsible for just about the worst thing a person can do to another person in their time of need… I thought about myself instead.”

They don’t look shocked or anything as common as that. But they certainly appear perplexed. I can only imagine what this must sound like to them, coming out of my mouth. Eish, man. I can barely understand it and I’m the one speaking.

I go on.

“I don’t know if you can recall, but after… what happened, I started doing more work without you.”

“Of course, I remember.”