3) Reflections on a Traitor
Humans learn through experience. From a past where I was abandoned without even realizing I’d been betrayed, I gained a special ability.
The ability to identify traitors.
An ultra-high-performance radar boasting incredible accuracy was aimed squarely at the man in front of me. Every time his lips moved, warning sirens blared in my head.
“We found out your second father, Elliot Turner, was connected to a certain incident.”
“Elliot? You mean the Elliot I know? Why him? What did he do?”
“Elliot Turner is a gang member. He started out as a cartel liaison and eventually rose to the rank of underboss.”
The things Eden rattled off with a deliberately serious expression carried no credibility whatsoever.
“Don’t you have the wrong person? Elliot’s just a normal guy. Tall, with curly hair.”
“He’s a tall gangster with curly hair. A lowlife who’s been committing crimes since he was around seventeen.”
I thought of Elliot Turner. Taller than me, he was a stylish man who carefully maintained his black curls with a glossy shine, and he’d first approached my mother outside an art auction house.
At the time, my mother had apparently been slightly irritated while waiting for the driver who’d failed to pick her up on time. Taking advantage of the lapse in security, the man approached her with a gentle smile and silver-tongued charm, completely captivating her.
If my memory served me right, he was a small-scale businessman involved in real estate distribution and the restaurant industry. He’d personally introduced himself that way when we crossed paths in front of the house once.
I’d even received a pretty convincing business card.
“Let’s correct the misinformation. Elliot’s just a businessman.”
“You’re the one with the wrong information.”
Strictly speaking, Elliot’s background had never actually been verified. But that didn’t mean everything Eden said was trustworthy either.
Most of all, there was one thing that was completely wrong.
“He was never my father. I never had a father, not even once. And ‘second father’? You’re not stupid enough to bring up my biological father Cedric Beaufort here, are you?”
“Sorry. That was a slip of the tongue.”
Eden scratched at his eyebrow awkwardly and apologized for upsetting me while trying to stick to the facts.
It sounded sincere, but it didn’t reach me.
No matter what he said right now, I had no intention of accepting it.
Fuck. Fuck.
I kept cursing over and over inside my head.
“So? Go on. Tell me more of these amazing facts.”
“According to our investigation, your mother Deborah Quinn and Elliot Turner were in a common-law marriage—”
“Wrong. He was just one of many boyfriends.”
The woman who gave me these beautiful eyes and bronze skin had inherited an enormous trust and fortune, and from childhood she’d learned how to protect her wealth.
That’s why she never married anyone—not even my biological father. According to her own romantic history, divorce and remarriage were inevitable, and she considered alimony a waste of money.
Naturally, Elliot Turner was no exception.
Their relationship hadn’t even lasted six months. Looking back now, Elliot had actually seemed fairly sincere, but my mother dumped him coldly.
Later, she told me it was because she disliked the fact that he owned several expensive watches. She’d tried to teach me that vain people inevitably squander their wealth, but what I realized at the time was something entirely different.
Just because something’s expensive doesn’t mean it’s pretty.
Elliot had terrible taste, and every expensive watch he wore looked awful.
“After Mom broke up with Elliot, I never saw him again. Even while they were dating, I only met him a few times.”
Once I firmly clarified the nature of that relationship, Eden pulled out his phone. His fingers moved quickly as he contacted someone before speaking again.
“Even correcting the marriage part, according to our investigation, you’re still in danger.”
Whether I should even believe his story about disappearing under witness protection was already questionable, and now Elliot was supposedly a gang underboss, and my life was supposedly in danger too. It was one absurd thing after another.
At this rate, why not tell me he’s an alien too?
As a hollow laugh escaped me from sheer disbelief, there was one part that bothered me more than anything else.
“What do you mean, ‘our’?”
I couldn’t let that expression slip by. Whoever it referred to, it clearly wasn’t just people who’d conducted an investigation together.
“That’s…”
“Don’t try to dodge the question. You already admitted you lied to me. It’s too late to back out now. If everything you’re saying is true, then I have the right to hear a proper explanation.”
I didn’t want to leave any more questions unanswered. I had no interest in drowning in stupid misunderstandings again.
So I kept pushing Eden harder and harder.
Even though the more I did, the more trapped I felt myself.
“If you tell me now, I’ll believe you. I’ll believe you, so just tell me.”
“Think carefully. Knowing means getting involved. It means becoming part of this.”
“I’m already part of it! According to you, I’m the one being protected, so how the hell am I unrelated? That makes no sense!”
Somehow, while yelling angrily, I accidentally constructed a logical argument.
I didn’t have the mental room to admire my own intellectual charm unconsciously shining through.
Not even close.
Driven into a corner, Eden dragged a dry hand down his face. The glasses caught on his fingertips rose above his head, then settled back down.
“Then listen. And forget it afterward.”
“Fine.”
Of course.
I’d start by completely forgetting your advice.
Maybe my calm response lowered his guard, or maybe he’d simply given up on trying to straighten out someone as hopelessly crooked as me, because Eden finally began explaining.
“‘We’ means… well, I…”
He said that while under witness protection, he’d inevitably become entangled with the intelligence agency, and eventually became one of them.
“We” referred to the teammates he worked with.
The explanation was vague and full of omissions, which was frustrating, but that was where the information about his identity ended, and he moved on to talking about the incident itself.
“The organization Elliot Turner belongs to and a rival organization are reaching an extreme level of conflict right now. They’re trying to establish dominance over each other. Elliot is at the center of that conflict, and he’s holding onto something important. Apparently the rival group believes that thing is connected to you. That’s why they targeted you.”
None of it made any sense.
Elliot’s true identity didn’t feel real, and I still couldn’t fully grasp the fact that I’d somehow become the target of a gang.
I was bewildered, but even in the middle of all that, one thing still hit me clearly.
“So in the end, the reason you came looking for me was because I was connected to some incident. Because of Elliot. The reason you kept following me around wasn’t because you were interested in me—it was for your investigation.”
“Finding clues was part of it, but protecting you—”
“Forget it. Drop the act. Either way, you came here to do your job.”
The back of my head throbbed.
So he wasn’t a stalker after all.
He wasn’t following me around because he was obsessed with me.
I thought you came back because you wanted to see me.
I thought the reason you acted so suspicious was because you felt guilty about disappearing all those years ago.
But I was wrong about everything.
I was an idiot. Just another fool drowning in pathetic delusions.
I was the only one who ever thought our relationship meant something special.
The past felt like one long nightmare. And now it was time to wake up.
“Ha.”
A murky sneer slipped through my teeth.
The fact that it wasn’t me but some professional mission that had driven Eden made me unbearably furious. And yet he still dared to talk about my love?
“How was it? Was it fun watching me make a fool of myself all alone? Did you laugh enough? Sorry to disappoint you, but I can’t entertain you anymore.”
I imagined smashing my head into the dashboard.
Actually doing it would probably look ridiculous, so instead I swallowed it down and hurled insults at him.
“You fucking bastard.”
Eden Reed was a fucking bastard.
Angel my ass. He had to be a demon sent down specifically to torment me.
“So much for chastity. I’m glad I slept around as much as I did. And from now on I’m gonna sleep around even more. Like a total slut.”
“Somerset.”
“My dick stopped working because of you? What a joke! It’s so fucking hard it won’t even go down.”
I raised my middle finger straight at him. Then I made a circle with my other hand and repeatedly jammed my finger through it like penetration, and cracks finally appeared across Eden’s face.
“Yeah, go ahead and keep acting like a stalker. That’s your job, isn’t it? Have fun with it. You’ll get to see it with your own eyes. Just how filthy I get in bed. It won’t even compare to when I had my first time with you.”
I got out of the car and slammed the door shut.
Bang!
It was loud, but not nearly as loud as what echoed inside my chest.
The shockwave of my heart crashing all the way to the ground came with unbearable pain and heat.
Fuck.
I was angry.
I didn’t want to know why.
I stopped myself from thinking about what exactly this blazing fire inside me really was.
I raked my hands harshly through my hair and started walking away.
“Somerset!”
I didn’t care that Eden raised his voice to call after me.
I couldn’t spare even a shred of mercy for a man naturally gifted at betrayal.
***
Even though I’d acted like I was about to do something drastic, I came home instead.
Then I shouted into empty space.
“Stop bugging my place! Turn the listening devices off right now!”
Only after my booming voice faded and the house fell silent as a grave did tears begin streaming down my face.
Fuck.
Eden Reed, you bastard.
Scumbag. Asshole. Trash. Con artist.
Honestly, I’d rather you were a stalker.
Back when I thought you were, at least it didn’t hurt this horribly.
It would’ve been better if you’d just followed me around out of some twisted obsession.
Better if you were a tragic fool who couldn’t stand proudly by my side because you felt guilty for leaving without a word, so you lingered around me through stalking instead.
You should’ve just dressed up your identity in a prettier lie.
You should’ve stayed a shameless liar.
The real version of him was too harmful to me.
Every moment with him wounded me.
It was pain sharp enough to peel flesh away, a throbbing ache spreading through my entire body.
And cursed as it was, it was a pain I already knew.
After Eden disappeared, I’d fallen into indescribable despair.
My chest had filled with a suffocating ache, and my nose had constantly stung with the threat of tears.
Back then, I’d struggled like someone drowning in a swamp.
The only person who could save me was Eden, but since he was gone, I’d sunk all the way under, unable to breathe properly, choking in agony.
Despair repeats itself.
I’d been abandoned again.
The shock hit me like a merciless beating, stimulating my tear ducts all over again.
Knowing this sorrow already only made it harder to endure.
How much more pain would I have to go through before it healed?
Had the old wounds ever healed at all?
Clutching my chest, I collapsed. Curled up on the floor, I cried.
Tear stains spread across the carpet.
I wished they’d become a puddle deep enough to swallow me whole. I’d reached the point where I wanted to sink somewhere and suffocate.
The endless stream of mucus clogging my breathing made it almost feel like that already.
“Hhk—”
The sobs escaping through my mouth became so distorted they sounded animalistic, and eventually I forced myself upright.
I rubbed my soaked eyes with the back of my hand.
I scrubbed hard, but it was useless. The tears just kept coming.
Even after yanking out a huge pile of tissues and wiping my face like I was washing it, the same thing happened.
They soaked through endlessly.
Fuck.
I don’t want to cry because of you. Anyone else, maybe—but not you.
Grinding my teeth in frustration, I kept repeating to myself that I was furious over the shameless audacity of someone who’d hidden his intentions while following me around.
Like brainwashing myself.
I didn’t want to admit that Eden could still hurt me this badly. Even if my head—and my entire body—burned hot enough to explode.
“I won’t forgive you!”
If God asked me what sin Eden Reed committed, I’d tell the truth.
He turned me into a pathetic idiot. He mocked and insulted my very dignity. He caused earthquakes inside me and pretended not to know.
That bastard’s a hurricane. He turned my mind into a complete disaster zone.
Then God would probably ask: “So do you hate Eden Reed?”
“You bastard. You really… really…”
I bit down hard on the lips that couldn’t say yes.
Fuck.
I don’t even believe in God anyway.
If God really existed, would he have given me a reality this cruel?
Sniffling, swallowing mucus, tears pouring endlessly down my face, I raised my middle finger toward the ceiling.
I protested to a god whose existence itself was uncertain and pounded hard against my chest.
