by Wolf, Alex
Mary Patrick
Pastor Jeremiah walks up, and it takes everything I have to hold it together.
“Is Rick here?”
I don’t look up, shaking my head while dusting the pews. They look brand new because I’ve been over them three times, but it gives me something to do without having to look at anyone.
“That’s odd. He never misses a night. Place feels weird without him.”
“Mmhmm.” It’s the only sound I can make without bursting into tears. How I held it together the rest of the afternoon at work and until now is beyond me.
Pastor Jeremiah stands there for a moment, like he might say something else, then seems to take the hint and walks away.
I’m in the church right now, but my mind is a galaxy away. I knew Rick wouldn’t be here when I showed up, not after what happened. Part of me still hoped, though. I got my hopes up, that maybe he changed his mind about whatever this is he’s doing, and it crushed me the second I walked in the door and didn’t see his goofy smile. I expected to stroll in and see him pretending to be interested in whatever Pastor Jeremiah had him doing.
Why did he do this to me? He spent so long trying to win me over. Then he finally had me, and he just throws it all away? Something has to be going on with him. There’s just no other explanation.
There was a connection there. We both felt it. There’s no way I caused all this, and yet, that’s exactly how it feels. It feels like the world is over. I’m not even comfortable in my own skin right now, a different person. It’s like bugs crawl all over me, multiplying faster than I can brush them off. Four months ago, I didn’t know what my life looked like with someone else in it, couldn’t imagine it, and now I can’t live without him.
It hurts so bad, deep in my chest. An ache I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Not knowing the reason for it all just adds to the weight. If I had an explanation maybe I could move on, but I don’t. If he’s in trouble I want to be there. I want to shoulder some of it, so he doesn’t have to do it alone.
I glance up and a few other volunteers are walking around, and I notice they’re going out of their way to avoid me. Am I cursed? Do they think I have some kind of disease or something? I can’t live this way.
I need answers.
I’ve never left the church early in over a year, since I started volunteering, but I can’t live with this another second. Another second that feels like hours dragging by. What’s the worst that can happen? He already ripped my heart out and tossed it on the ground. I should have an opportunity to confront him on my own terms anyway. He planned it to happen the way he did because he knew I wouldn’t flip out at work. He knew I wouldn’t put our personal business out in the open.
He might pretend to be laid back and go with the flow, but Rick thinks everything through before he makes decisions. I know him better than anyone.
No. It’s not ending this way. If he wants it to be over it ends my way, not his.
And just like that, I walk out of the church without saying anything to anyone.
* * *
I wring my hands as I stomp toward his apartment building. The sun is just setting and throwing long shadows from the skyscrapers across the street. I replay everything I want to say to him over and over in my head, but as soon as I’m about twenty feet from the entrance, he walks right out the door.
Dang it. Of course he catches me off guard. Why wouldn’t he? Why can’t something work in my favor for once?
He takes the steps down to the sidewalk two at a time, turns, and sees me. The second our eyes lock, he freezes. At least I catch him off guard too, and I can gauge his reaction in that split-second. He fidgets with his hands, and his eyes dart around, as if he’s thinking up what to say or what to do.
Exactly what I thought he’d do. He’s hiding so much right now.
His jaw finally clenches, and he glares right at me. “What are you doing here?”
I do my best to hide my nerves and try to return his harsh stare. It’s difficult, and I’m sure he can see right through it, but I’ve had it with this. I want answers, even if he wants nothing to do with me after. “What do you think?”
He tries to walk past me, and I step right in his way.
“Move. I’m late.”
I shake my head. “No, you’re not getting out of it with this little act you’re putting on. I put up with this for seven months, I’m not putting up with a new one. I want to know what is going on with you. You’re not Rick. You’re someone else.”
His eyes widen for a second at what I just said, then he glares again. “Why can’t you take a hint? I don’t want to be with you.”
He says the words, and they sting, but I can see in his eyes. His heart is breaking every time he says those things to me. He holds back everything he really wants to say, and I watch him cracking from the inside.
I shake my head. “I don’t believe you. Just tell me what it is. I’d help you with anything. I’d do anything for you and you know that. Please.”
He looks away, glances around, stares anywhere but my face. He has shame written all over him. Finally, his eyes lock with mine again, and he says, “You can’t help me. Nobody can. So go away. Don’t come near me. Don’t call me.”
Tears leak out of the corners of my eyes and roll down my cheeks. I wish I could stop them, but I can’t. Why is this all happening? The worst part is, I can’t even let my heart break for me right now, because it’s breaking for him. He looks so tortured, defeated, and I want to take his pain away more than I want mine gone.
I sniff. “Please. Just…”
He reaches out to touch my face, then pulls his hand back like I’m on fire. His eyes well up a little at the sight of me in front of him.
“Please just go. Just go.” He barely gets the last word out.
I stare down at the ground, more tears streaming. “Fine. I know something’s wrong, even if you don’t want my help.” I reach up and touch his cheek this time.
He doesn’t pull away, in fact, he leans into it a little like he just wants to stand there forever.
“Whatever it is, please, just do the right thing. I know you’re a good man.”
When I say that, he pulls away. Right when I think he might break down, he blinks a couple times, then his jaw clenches and he shakes his head. “No, I’m not. You always had that part wrong.”
Before I can respond, he walks right past me.
Mary Patrick
I knew the risk of going to see him, and I knew it’d probably break my heart all over again, but I didn’t care. It was worth it just to tell him those things, things he needed to hear. I almost feel selfish, because I knew there might be a chance he’d let me in, but also because I wanted to confirm I did nothing wrong.
Should I feel bad for the relief it gave me when I could see how bad he was hurting?
I’ve never really experienced anything of this magnitude before. I’ve never loved someone who wanted nothing to do with me. It’s a brand-new kind of anguish. I’ve never felt so—helpless, like there’s nothing I can do. What can I do?
The worst part is, I have no idea about anything. Part of me wants to burn down everything to be there for him. The other half of my brain wonders if I’m being selfish by doing that. Am I only trying to make myself feel better, and not actually worried about what Rick is doing? Will I make things worse for him if I keep trying?
Personally, I think he’s being an egotistical, stupid man, and he’s going to shut everyone out, do something stupid and screw up his life. Most human beings I meet tend to think the sky is falling on manageable situations. Whatever Rick is dealing with is definitely serious. But I know what we have together, and I know we could overcome so much more than he thinks. I don’t think he realizes what our connection is capable of, but maybe it’s easy for me to see that because I’m not the one living in his shoes.
I just need to pause for a moment and think rationally. I need to list out events, piece clues together the way Rick would. Be
methodical, scientific. Why would he do this? Did that man I saw arguing with Rick through my window have anything to do with it? Rick’s a private investigator, so there’s no telling what he could be caught up in, but he’s been doing this work forever. It should be nothing out of the ordinary, dealing with criminals, investigating to see if people are being truthful about their actions, spying on the opposition. I mean, I think that’s most of what he does.
The one piece of information I do have, is that I have no effect on his decision. He’s made up his mind about us, and I won’t be able to change it. That was clear in his eyes. I don’t know how much more hurt I could’ve looked, and he still walked past me. What information does that give me?
I know how Rick really feels about me, so it must mean whatever it is must be a threat to ‘us’ somehow. It’s the only explanation for him trying to do this. It’s going to sound arrogant on my part, but he has to be doing this to protect me from some existential threat. What that could be, I don’t know.
What’s the next most important thing to Rick, besides our relationship? The thing he values most after me?
The answer hits me the second I ask the question.
His job.
I know my next move.
* * *
I walk into The Gage, a popular bar where most of the firm hangs out after work, partners included. I’ve been here a few times, but not many, since I don’t drink. Usually for celebrations or after-work parties when we meet big deadlines or hit milestones.
Oh no, everyone is here.
Every Collins brother and all their significant others are seated at the bar top. They all turn and look at me at the same time, and all their eyes widen. Probably because they all think I’m some hardcore evangelical and the place might burst into flames if they’re next to me. At least, that’s been my observation.
I hadn’t expected them all to be here, maybe just Decker and a brother or two. I’d hoped anyway. Regardless, I take a deep breath and march right toward the managing partner of the firm, the one who calls all the shots. I mean, Donavan is a managing partner too, but it’s always clear Decker has the most seniority. He’s the one who built the firm from the ground up.
Plus, he’s been working with Rick on everything with Wells Covington. I don’t care if it’s a secret anymore. I’m not keeping it to myself. If he fires me for saying something I shouldn’t in front of Dexter or the other brothers, so be it. I’ll try to avoid it if I can, but I’ve about had it. I think this whole Wells Covington debacle is probably what’s causing all this turmoil, judging by the meeting I had with him. When a lot of money is at stake, problems naturally arise.
Everyone says, “Hi,” in the most reserved manner possible as I walk by their barstools.
I stop in front of Decker. For once, he looks speechless.
“Mary.” He gives me a small nod.
“Mr. Collins, may I speak to you in private? Sorry for interrupting, but it’s urgent.”
He lets out a huge sigh. “Fine.” He gets up from his barstool, and we walk a few steps, but he stops maybe five feet away from everyone, looking annoyed he has to deal with this. “What is it?”
I’m guessing that he’s guessing what this is about. I don’t know why he’s so frustrated, though. “It’s about Rick. I’m really worried about him, and this isn’t some freak out over something tiny, I mean—”
“Fuck Rick.” Decker raises his voice and glares right at me.
What in the world?
Decker eyes me for a second but must notice the bewildered look on my face because he shows a little remorse. “I fired him earlier. He didn’t tell you?”
My heart sinks in my chest, and my stomach tightens even more. What is Rick doing? Fear shoots down my spine. I can’t even speak. I just shake my head.
“What do you mean you fired Rick?” Dexter walks over after clearly hearing what Decker said.
The other brothers, Tate, and Paisley follow. Abigail and Quinn stay at the bar.
Oh no. Now, they’re all going to argue about this and things are going to come out.
Decker turns to him. “I mean what I said. He came into my office, treated me like shit, and refused to do what I asked him to do.” Decker scrubs a hand through his hair. It’s his go-to maneuver when he’s super frustrated.
“What kind of shit did you ask him to do?” Dexter’s jaw tics, like he already knows what it might be about.
“It doesn’t fucking matter. He’s gone. That’s final.”
“Please!”
They all look at me right when I say the word. I didn’t even realize I yelled it so loud, and I shrink back a little and lower my voice. “Please, I’m worried something is really wrong. Can you please go talk to him? Check on him? Do something? He’s not being himself right now. He dumped me earlier, then clearly went straight to your office and pushed you to fire him. Something bad is happening.”
Decker’s about to lose it but manages to stay somewhat in control. “It’s not so—”
“I lied to you.” No going back now, I guess.
“What?” Decker’s eyes widen.
I glance back and forth at Dexter, then at Decker. I don’t want to divide their family, but I want to make sure Rick is okay, and he won’t let me near him. Maybe he’ll let one of these guys help him. “The Wells Covington stuff you had me look into.”
“Oh what the fuck?” says Dexter.
Decker holds up a hand at him. “Not now.” He turns to me. “What do you mean you lied?”
“I told you he knew about me and Abigail looking into him. He knew about Rick, though. I’m sorry, I was trying to protect him. Covington told me he knew things about Rick. Sounded like he was going to threaten you with them if we didn’t leave him alone. I know that’s what this has to be about. Please, will you just go help him? Please?” I don’t know how much harder I can beg for him to do something.
Abigail comes and pulls Dexter away because he’s about to lose it on Decker.
Decker glances to me, then to Tate, then back to me. Finally, he reaches out and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Look, Mary, I… Umm, we all liked Rick a lot. I’m going to miss him, and yeah, what he did was uncharacteristic of him. I don’t see how anything I can do would help, though. If Covington was going to threaten his job, it’s a moot point because he doesn’t have one here anymore. I can’t have him working in the office. It’s done. I’m sorry.”
Anger and heat rushes into my face, and I have to hold back the tears. Finally, I just storm through the middle of them, shouldering my way past.
“Mary!” Tate tries to reach for my arm, but I plow through. I glare right at Abigail and Dexter on my way out.
How can they not care about him? After all he’s done for their firm? More than that, they’re supposed to be his friend. As far as I’m concerned, they’re only worried about money and the firm’s wellbeing. Every one of them has caused scenes and gone off the deep end at work before, acted like absolute children. They were all welcomed back as if nothing had happened.
Once I get outside, I just stare at the sky, wondering where Rick is, knowing he’s standing under the same moon and stars, all alone with nobody there. I stand there and I just worry. Worry if he’s safe or not. I don’t know if I’ll ever take him back for treating me this way, even if he came back and apologized.
That doesn’t mean I don’t want him to be okay, to not be hurting. That’s the only thing I want for him.
This is torture. The not knowing is the worst part. I just feel so—helpless.
Rick Lawrence
It’s been twenty-four hours since I broke Mary’s heart for the second time in one day. Fuck, why’d she have to come back? I almost cracked when she surprised me. I almost wrapped her up in my arms, kidnapped her, and took her across the country somewhere, but what kind of life would that be? That’s not what she deserves. If I ever get a chance with her again, it will be the right way. It’ll only be when I can give her the world.
&n
bsp; What’s done is done. It’s for the best. I know what I have to do.
I have to wait, for now.
I sit there, swiping through photos of us on my phone. For a month or two, hell, even when I was just following her around like a weirdo, pretending all day long—those were the happiest times of my life. It was the one bright spot on the highlight reel of this horror film.
I have to do this. I have to face reality and pay for things I’ve done. The debt always comes due no matter how long you hide from it, and only after it’s been paid, can you move forward. It’s the only way I can escape this and actually be a man.
I glance to the clock, just waiting, then back to pictures of Mary. She’s so happy and free. I did that to her. I made her feel that way.
Me.
Best thing I’ve ever fucking done in my life.
But at what cost? She’s worse off now. I picked a rose because I wanted to, and now it’s wilting, about to decay. It was the most selfish thing I’ve ever done, and now I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for it. I guess time will tell.
There’s a knock at my door.
He’s five minutes late, of course. It’s a metaphor for his entire existence. Actually, I’m surprised he showed up at all. That would’ve been more appropriate. But he needs something, and I’m the only one who can get it for him.
When I open the door, he smirks. “Hello again, son.”
“Let’s get this shit over with.” I shut the door behind me and walk right through his shoulder.
* * *
When we pull up in front of the nondescript house in a suburban neighborhood, Dad looks around, confused. “The fuck are we doing here?”