by Keeland, Vi
Bud smiled. “Damn. Why couldn’t it be this easy to get you to admit stuff when you were a teenager?”
I sighed. “I thought I’d grown past this shit. I really did.”
“I’m not so sure I would’ve done anything different in your shoes, son. This isn’t a case of you getting into a fight over the dumb shit you used to brawl over. A man hurt your woman—a man who never got what he had coming to him—and you wanted to change that. Violence might never be justified, but sometimes it feels a hell of a lot like justice.” Bud’s eyes met mine. “I take it you’re in love with Autumn?”
I nodded. “I was never sure if I was in love before. But now I realize when you are, you damn well know it.”
“Do you remember in eighth grade when you got in trouble for cutting some advanced math class they had you in, and the guidance counselor told you to just drop the class because you wouldn’t be able to handle the work anyway?”
“Mr. Schultz. Guy had the worst breath.”
“Did you drop the class?”
“No, I got a hundred on every test.”
“And what did you do with those tests when you got them back?”
“I slid every single one of them under Schultz’s door. I wouldn’t be able to handle the work, my ass.”
“And when you were disappointed that you only beat ninety-nine-point-five percent of all people taking that test you had to take to get into law school, and I suggested maybe you should apply to some other law schools besides Harvard, just to be safe?”
I shrugged. “I retook the LSAT and got a perfect score. Then I got into Harvard.”
“Are you sensing a pattern here, son?”
“That I don’t listen?”
Bud grinned. “Well, yeah. That’s definitely true. But that isn’t my point this time. You don’t give up when you want something. All your life, you’ve encountered obstacles, and you’ve found a way around them all.”
“Okay…”
Bud shook his head. “Jesus, sometimes you can be such a knucklehead. You’re in love with this girl. You made a mistake. Don’t let the mistake make you. Fix it. Find a way around it. Don’t sit on your ass and hope it will work itself out.”
***
The entire way back to Manhattan, I kept thinking about what Bud had said. There was a difference between giving Autumn space and sitting on the sidelines. I’d screwed up, and I needed to own it, but I also needed to make sure she knew I wasn’t going anywhere, and the way to do that was sure as hell not over text and voicemail. So when I got off the bridge, I turned downtown toward her place instead of uptown toward mine.
By the time I found a parking spot, it was close to nine. I still had no idea if I was doing the right thing, but how much worse could I make it at this point? So I took a deep breath, walked to the door, and hit the buzzer for her apartment.
I knew she had an app where she could see and hear who was at the door before allowing them entrance, so as I stood there and waited to hear the sound of the door lock clanking open, I looked up at the corner and stared at the camera.
Come on, Red. Buzz me in.
A minute passed, and my chest started to feel heavy. She could be sleeping or maybe even out, but she could also be pretending she wasn’t home to avoid me. Since I’d come this far, I buzzed a second time, and I looked up at the camera.
“Autumn, I just want to talk. Will you let me up? Or come down if you don’t want me inside. I won’t stay long, I promise. I just need to say a few things and I’ll get out of your hair.”
Again I waited. The minutes that ticked by were grueling. At first, I’d decided I’d wait five minutes since I’d asked her to come down, and she might have to wait for the elevator or something. But after five minutes passed, I justified why that might not be long enough.
Maybe she was sleeping and had to get dressed?
Or she needed to go to the bathroom and then get dressed?
Ten.
I’ll wait ten minutes. Five was too hasty.
But after six-hundred seconds, I still wasn’t ready to give up.
Her elevator is pretty damn slow.
Better make it fifteen.
Yeah, fifteen.
Fifteen turned into twenty, and twenty turned into a half hour. It felt like I had a knot in my throat as I turned to leave. I made it a few steps, then stopped and turned around.
Fuck it. If this was the only way she would listen to me, I needed to take the opportunity. So I hit the buzzer once more and looked up at the camera.
“Autumn, I know you’ve read my apologies. And I’m sorry for what I did. But I don’t know how long this thing records, so I’m going to dive into the things that I haven’t said.” I raked a hand through my hair, trying to come up with a way to express how I felt. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve wanted more than I had—more money, more respect, more clothes, more recognition, more family, just more. Until you walked into my life. Now none of those things seem important. I don’t need more money, more recognition, more anything. All I need is you. Looking back, a year ago I thought I knew everything, but the truth is, I had no idea what love was. But I finally figured it out. Love is…enough. None of the other things are important when you find the right person. You’re in my heart, Autumn—hell, you own my heart. Please don’t forget that.” Tears welled in my eyes, and I suddenly felt really damn exhausted. I looked up at the camera one last time. “I hope you’re okay.”
I decided to take a walk to clear my head a little before getting behind the wheel. Two blocks into it, I passed a bar and decided to go in. It was dark and sad inside, so it felt like I’d found the right place. I took a seat at the bar next to an older man, who was hunched over his drink.
He looked over, so I lifted my chin. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” he grumbled, not very welcoming.
When the bartender came by, I ordered a beer at first. “Actually, I need something stronger.”
“What do you want?”
I shook my head. “I don’t care. Something strong.”
The old guy next to me frowned. “Bourbon—make it two, one for me.”
I smiled at the bartender. “Two bourbons, please.”
The amber liquid burned going down, though the guy next to me didn’t seem to notice. He gulped three fingers back like it was nothing.
“Your generation’s soft,” he sneered.
I chuckled to myself. He wasn’t wrong. About most people, anyway. Though I liked to think I was a little different than most of the people born the same year. I nodded. “It’s the trophies.”
The old man’s face wrinkled. “What’s a trophy?”
“You know, metal statues, or these days they’re mostly plastic I’m sure. Kids get ’em when they play sports and stuff.”
“Oh, a trophy.”
“That’s what I said.”
“I figured there was some new meaning I didn’t know about. What’s a trophy got to do with why you people are soft?”
“Well, in your generation, there was only one trophy. It went to the winning team. Nowadays, kids get trophies when they finish a season—just for finishing. Even the last-place team gets a trophy.”
The old man thought it over and nodded. “That’s just stupid.”
I finished off the liquid in my glass. The third gulp went down as hard as the first. I shook the ice, rattling it around. “How do you drink this? It tastes terrible and burns going down.”
He smiled. “I never had a fucking trophy.”
I laughed and lifted my chin to the bartender. “Another round for me and…” I looked to the old man.
“Fred.”
I nodded. “Me and Fred.”
For the next few hours, I sat next to my new friend and drank too many bourbons. Turned out Fred was down on millennials because he had a grandson about my age who had disinvited him to a party he was having this weekend and wouldn’t take his calls. “He wanted me to go to a gender reveal party. Who the hell throws a
party and has a cake baked to find out the sex of the baby?”
“Actually, a lot of people do that these days.”
Fred frowned and shook his head. “Like I said, soft.”
I smiled and sucked back my third bourbon on the rocks. It was starting to hit me now, which was just fine.
“In my day, men didn’t even wait at the hospital to find out what they were having. We just dropped the woman off and went home to get some sleep. If you married a nice girl, she wouldn’t call you until the morning to tell you what she’d had, so you’d get your rest.”
I laughed. “Pretty sure that wouldn’t fly with women today.”
He waved me off, grumbling.
A little while later, I stood to go to the bathroom and stumbled. Shit. I was drunker than I thought. I went to relieve myself and intended to close out my tab. But when I returned, Fred had bought me a round for a change.
He tilted his glass toward me. “You’re not so bad for one of those alphabet kids. I can never remember what ages are for generation X, Y, or Z.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“So why are you sitting in this depressing place trying to outdrink an old pro like me?”
“Woman problems.”
Fred held his glass toward me to clink. “Fucking women. Gotta watch out for them. They’re dangerous. You know any other animal that can get juice from a nut without cracking it?”
I laughed so hard, I fell off my seat. Fred offered a hand to help me up from the floor. His grip was pretty strong for a guy who had to be pushing eighty.
Once I was standing, I put a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks a lot, buddy. This was just what I needed.”
“To fall on the damn floor?”
“Nah. To not be able to stand.”
I said I was going to head out, but Fred convinced me to have one more. That last drink totally did me in. I went from happy drunk to feeling pretty miserable about Autumn again. There was no way I was driving home in my condition, so I started toward the train, figuring I’d get my car tomorrow. But at some point, I veered and walked back to Autumn’s place.
I had no idea what time it was, but it had to be after midnight when I buzzed.
“Autumn…it’s me.” I looked up at the camera and pointed to my face. “Please let me in.”
When a few minutes went by, and she didn’t answer, I went from feeling down to feeling angry. What I should’ve done was go the hell home. But instead, I buzzed again.
“Autumn, are you going to talk to me?”
No response.
I was hurt and sad and so damn frustrated. So I buzzed again and looked up at the camera. “You know what your problem is? You got a damn trophy. No one has to work hard when you get a damn trophy just for showing up. But life is hard, Autumn.” I leaned my head against the door and mumbled. “Life is fucking hard.” I shut my eyes, and I think I might’ve started to fall asleep standing there. After a minute, I forced my eyes open and pushed off the door. I was drunk and emotionally drained and filled with so much pent-up anger that beating that douchebag didn’t even begin to take the edge off. My anger was not directed at Autumn, though in my drunken haze, I lashed out at anyone. I held up my middle finger to the camera. “Fuck everything!”
CHAPTER 35
* * *
Donovan
I woke to the shake of a subway car at six in the morning. Shit. I lifted my head. Where the hell was I? The woman across from me gave me a dirty look and put her arm around her kid.
“Sorry.”
She looked away.
What the hell happened last night? I remembered the partner announcements at the office, and going to visit Bud. But everything after that was a bit blurry.
Oh, wait. I’d gone over to Autumn’s place, but she hadn’t been home. Then I’d wandered into some bar.
The train pulled into a station. It wasn’t mine, but I needed some fresh air, so I hopped off and walked up the stairs about half a mile from my apartment. As I reached the top, a homeless guy was sitting next to the entrance. That jogged my memory some more.
Fred. I’d downed disgusting bourbon with a guy named Fred at the bar for a few hours. Then there was a belligerent stop back at Autumn’s apartment, which ended with me giving the finger to the security camera. After that, on my way to the train station, a homeless person had asked me for money. He’d been sitting outside a liquor store, so I went in and bought a bunch of those small bottles they serve on planes and proceeded to take a seat next to the guy. We drank every single one of the bottles together. No wonder I feel like shit. I couldn’t be sure, but I think I might’ve cried at one point. Great. Just great. You’re really pulling your shit together when Autumn needs you, Decker.
On my walk home, I stopped at a deli and picked up some orange juice and Motrin. By the time I made it to my apartment, I was ready to crash for a few hours. I had no idea how long I’d slept on the train, only that it wasn’t enough. It felt like I could pass out and not wake up for days. I even leaned against the elevator wall as I rode the car up to my floor.
Happy to be close to crash landing on my bed, I stepped out of the elevator with my head down and my mind in a thick fog. But a few steps down the hall and it felt like someone had put the paddles on my chest and jolted me awake.
Had I fallen asleep in the elevator and I was dreaming?
My stride, which had been lumbering at best, suddenly picked up as I made my way down the hall. And my heart followed right along.
Autumn sat on the floor next to my door looking down at her phone, but she stood once she saw me.
“Hey, sorry for stopping by without calling,” she said.
“You never need to call first.”
She looked me up and down. My clothes were a wrinkled mess, and I’m sure my face was covered in stubble. “Were you…out all night?”
I nodded. “I went by your place. You weren’t home, so I stopped at a bar a few blocks away and had a little too much to drink. I woke up on the subway.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
I blew out a deep breath. “Apparently I haven’t been acting like myself a lot lately.”
Autumn nodded. “I stayed at Skye’s last night.”
She looked tired, even though she was still absolutely gorgeous. Her green eyes were puffy and had small streaks of red in them, and under her eyes was dark and hollow.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Do you think we can talk?”
“Of course.” I unlocked my apartment door and opened it for her to walk through first. She went straight to the living room.
I tossed my keys on the adjoining kitchen counter. “You want coffee?”
“I’d love some.”
I took the grounds from the cabinet and grabbed the pot to fill with water. But I had to wipe my palms on my pants in order to open the canister because I was such a clammy mess from nerves. Once I pushed the button to start brewing, I told Autumn I’d be right back and went to the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth before returning to fill two mugs.
“Here you go.”
She’d sat on the chair, not the couch, which I overanalyzed in my head as a bad sign. In law, the seat a client or attorney selects often tells you a lot about the person or their power position. Autumn sitting to keep distance between us troubled me.
We were both silent as I sat. She stared down at the floor, while I watched her intently. Eventually, I couldn’t take it and spoke. “Are you sleeping? You look tired.”
Her eyes lifted to meet mine. “Off and on. I stopped taking the Ambien completely a few days ago. I looked it up, and insomnia is common after you stop. My body is basically going through withdrawal after years of use.”
“You slept pretty good the night I stayed over and you forgot to take it.”
She smiled sadly. “I think that was because you were in my bed.”
I smiled back. “Well, if I can be of any assistance… Sleep is important, you know.”
Her smile was more genuine this time. She sipped her coffee and set it down on the table. “I want to tell you some things about what happened six years ago. I told you the parts I thought you needed to know, but I wasn’t exactly open about how I handled things afterward.”
My brows furrowed. “Okay…”
She took a deep breath. “I didn’t actually go to the police two weeks after Braden raped me. I mean, I did speak to them, but it didn’t happen the way I might’ve led you to believe. They actually came to me.” Autumn looked up and met my eyes. The pain swimming in hers caused a stabbing pain in my chest. “They came because I’d attempted suicide. My father found me unconscious and called 9-1-1. After they got the drug out of my system and my vitals stable, a policewoman coaxed me into telling her what happened.”
I tasted salt in my throat and swallowed. Reaching out, I took her hand and squeezed and didn’t let go.
She tried to force a smile before continuing. “I’d gone to my regular doctor and told her I had trouble sleeping, and she gave me a prescription for Ambien. I’d researched that it would take a lot of pills to overdose—more than I had, unless I chewed them and forced them into my bloodstream all at once.” She took another deep breath. “So I put the contents of the bottle into my Magic Bullet and then snorted the powder.” She laughed, but not in a funny way. “I’d never done cocaine in my life. My first white lines were Ambien.”
Jesus Christ. I just wanted to wrap her in my arms and hold her, but her body language told me that was not the right thing to do. I also suspected this revelation wasn’t the only thing she wanted to share…
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter how you reported it. What matters is that you’re healthy and you made it through.”
“I thought I’d made it through, too. I was honestly beginning to feel like I was moving on and the past was behind me. But it wasn’t. A few days after we ran into Braden, I started to spiral again. That animal was walking around like nothing had happened, and here I was unable to sleep and eat again, and you’d been arrested. I felt really low. One night I took the bottle of Ambien into my hand and sat with it for an hour, staring at it.” Autumn looked down. “I never really contemplated taking them again, but it hit me that I had a lot to deal with. Not fully dealing with things last time had only made things worse. I needed to get myself in the right headspace. I didn’t want to wind up in a bad place again. So I went to my therapist a few times. We talked a lot about closure, and then…” She took another deep breath and looked into my eyes. “I went to see Braden.”