Something about being in the presence of Delaney—or rather, in the presence of her grave—brings out the worst in Raylen.
Gone is the stoic chairman of Vale Enterprises. In his place is a young adult in the throes of toxic passion again.
"You must be glad," he hisses, "that my life has gone to shit after you left. It must be cathartic and satisfying to witness. What is it that they like to say? Karma is a bitch? Yeah, karma is indeed a fucking bitch. And you're the biggest bitch of all."
A cool breeze rustles the rose petals and the grave gives no answers.
Raylen calms down a little. It is remarkably difficult to pick a fight against an unresponsive opponent.
He should know. He has a lot of experience in this.
"I cannot help but wonder if you've possessed the reporter to judge me from the afterlife. But in case you don't know about it, Janus Allister looks like you, much more than Charlotte does. And I simply cannot get her out of my mind. I have this desire to get close to her and call her 'Janey' and see if I can spot your recognition in her eyes."
He gets nothing in response but silence.
"She is," he laughs drily, "the reason for the impending demise of my marriage. Or rather, my inability to get either of you out of my head is. Glynis would have my head if she knew I blamed a woman for my own follies."
The wind blows harder, as if to chase him out of the cemetery.
"Livia's jealousy of you has finally reached a breaking point. She cannot ignore it any longer. She has initiated divorce and much as I do not wish to be separated from my daughter, I want to respect her wishes. I am a terrible person to be tied to, as you're surely aware."
He pauses a little, as if to give Delaney some time to answer. It is an old habit that never quite manages to die.
"You know, your passiveness has always angered me. You were always so pensive. You did not speak your mind often enough. It took so much to provoke a reaction out of you. I can remember your eyes flashing with anger when I pushed you enough. I should not have felt glee, but I always did. Because anger is better than indifference. But now indifference is all you can give. You are at peace and no longer in pain while I have to live on."
After waiting a while, he continues again, "I wonder what our lives would be like right now if you were still alive. I would not be with Livia. Cornelius and Cornelia would not exist. That would be terrible, but I would not be able to grieve for people who did not exist either. Janus Allister would not linger in my mind like a goddamn ghost. Father would still be just as insufferable, though. That old man can go straight to hell. At this rate, he is probably already on his way. But maybe Glynis would be happier and less cranky." He laughs a little at the absurdity of that idea.
"Heck, I would be happier and less cranky."
"Kai would also be more light-hearted. More like he was in the past," he adds as an afterthought.
Raylen does not seem to mind the lack of answers. After all, he is used to it.
"What do you think I should do, hmm? Should I swallow my pride and initiate a reconciliation with Livia? Or is it better to let her go? I know this is making things difficult for you. You're always such an escapist, Laney. Always running from confrontations. Always taking the easy way out. But I am curious what you think," he says with forced joviality.
Silence again.
"Please."
Time trickles past, and the grave refuses to yield its dead or her secrets.
Raylen sighs. "Laney, you have always been quietly selfish. It's still a form of selfishness, you know? But what can I do? You had—and still have—me wrapped around your little finger. Nothing has changed. Nothing will change."
The wind is beginning to howl. It will be evening soon.
"What do you want me to bring next time? You must be tired of flowers. I suspect Glynis is quite thoroughly sick of carnations too even though she says nothing about them. I don't even know why I still bring you flowers. You never asked for them. How about a slice of red velvet cake? Or some lemonade? Hmm?"
He blinks as a thought suddenly occurs to him. "The twins like red velvet cake and lemonade as well. Well, I shouldn't read too much into this. Both are widely liked. I don't like them though. And neither does Livia. At least, I don't think she likes them. She has a figure she wants to maintain."
Raylen can't help but smile bitterly. "Should I be grateful she does not starve herself like you did? No? Yes?"
"Do you know," his voice drops to a whisper, "you would have likely lived if you had not been so starved? Was it so fucking hard to eat like a normal person? We have had this conversation so many times. Do you know how much I hate you for this?"
"You do not, of course, because you do not and cannot care anymore. Must be a blessing. Oh well, I will bring you both red velvet cake and lemonade next time. It is not like they can fatten you up in the afterlife. I will try to bring Glynis too. I am sure she misses you. That stubborn woman just does not want to admit it."
The wind takes on an icy bite as the sun begins to set. It's already evening. Someone—or something—is squeezing his heart and refusing to let go.
"To be honest," he manages to choke out through the pain, "I don't really want to admit it either."