by Erin Rylie
Though Carlos heard his best friend enter the apartment with his spare key, Carlos didn’t look up from his feet. After texting Rafe that he needed help, he’d moved his bag to his bedroom and sunk onto the couch, mentally running through his options. He didn’t know how he would look Rafe in the eyes as he told him what he needed. When Carlos imagined the disappointment he was sure to see in Rafe’s expression, he felt sick to his stomach.
“If you called me over here to wax your back again, I will chop your balls off. That was a one-time thing, man. Go see a waxer.”
In spite of the severity of his situation, he felt his lips tip up into a smile. Shit, would Rafe ever forgive him for this? When Carlos didn’t respond, he heard Rafe’s steps slow.
“Carlos, what’s going on? Look at me, dude.”
He ran a hand through the hair that was just a touch longer than he generally kept it and scratched at the scruff gracing his face before lifting his eyes to Rafe.
His best friend studied his face, most likely taking in his red-rimmed eyes, five o’clock shadow, and the overwhelming shame he was sure filled his gaze.
“Tell me what’s happening. You look like shit.”
“Rafe,” he started. Carlos had to swallow before continuing, the emotions churning in his gut rising to choke him. “Rafe, I need help.”
“Yeah, I gathered that from your text. What do you need help with?”
“I fucked up, man. I’ve been freaking out since the accident—worried about not bouncing back from this injury and losing my job. When you came to Kelsey’s house I was really in the thick of it, but I thought I’d pulled myself out of my funk. Over the last few months though, anytime the worry hit me, I took more than the prescribed dosage of painkillers. I’ve gotten dependent on them, and I think it cost me Kelsey.”
Carlos told him about James’s possible concussion and the fight that ensued, sparing no details. When he’d finished talking, Rafe was speechless for a while, running his fingers through his thick blonde hair.
“Shit, okay. Shit. When you fuck up you really go big, huh?”
“I mean, at least I didn’t get wasted and kiss another woman.”
“Hey! Low blow, man. That badge bunny kissed me. So we need a plan. Have you researched rehab facilities?”
Rehab? Fuck, he hoped he didn’t need rehab. It would put his job in jeopardy. “I want to try Narcotics Anonymous first, I think. I know I have a problem and I want to fix it. I already dumped the pills I had left in the toilet. I don’t have any more refills on the prescription.”
“Okay, good. You’re going to have to talk to the captain about all of this. Are you prepared for that?”
He nodded. “I know losing my job will be a possibility, but I’m hoping that he’ll give me a chance to fix this. I’ll submit to piss tests, give him my sponsor’s contact info—anything he needs. I looked, and there are open meetings that family members can attend. They aren’t permitted to speak, but they can observe the meeting. I was wondering if you’d be willing to come to my meetings with me, report back to Cap and let him know that I’m taking them seriously.”
“Of course, just let me know what night of the week your meetings are and I’ll talk to Sophie about it. Now, what’s your plan for Kelsey? You aren’t just going to let her go, are you?”
“Fuck no. I have a plan, but I need your input.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Two weeks had passed without Carlos, and Kelsey still felt bereft every single night that she fell asleep without him. She thought of him anytime she made her own coffee in the morning, every time she got ready for the day and had to look at her bathroom mirror, where she’d left the last of his random-fact sticky notes. He’d placed this particular one on her mirror when she’d had a rough day at work. She’d been yelled at by multiple customers that day and wanted to scream. After she’d put James down that night and gone to the bathroom to brush her teeth, she’d found a note with his familiar scrawl on her mirror. “During World War II, Americans called hamburgers ‘Liberty Steak’ because the word hamburger sounded too German.”
Surprisingly, it was a fact she hadn’t known. What had really touched her about the note, though, was the fact that he’d been able to tell she had had a rough day without her needing to say a single word. At the time, she’d felt cared for, knowing that Carlos could read her moods so well. Now all she could think about was the fact that she hadn’t told him about her day. She hadn’t confided in him, trusted him with her emotions.
You, Kelsey Byrne, are a fucking coward.
Yes, she thought of him multiple times throughout her day, but the nights were the worst. The time after James was in bed had been theirs. The two of them would lie in bed and she’d read historical fiction or memoirs on her Kindle while he did read romance. He had recently discovered dark romances and was hooked. His nightstand still had a small stack of books he’d planned to read. She loved that he tried to finish a couple a week, saying that they always relaxed him before bed. She imagined that his obsession with romance novels was something that few knew about. They were a part of his bedtime routine, their bedtime routine.
She had actually picked one up a few days ago, hoping that reading one at night alone in her bed would bring her some peace. She’d opened the book and immediately started crying when a little sticky note fell out. Apparently he’d been using one of his notes to her as a bookmark. Now the book sat with the others, untouched on his bedside table. No, her bedside table. His nightstand was in his own apartment, where he now spent his nights without her.
She had just tucked James into bed when she heard her phone chime with a text notification. It was probably Dillon checking in on his nephew. Thankfully, nothing had come of James’s accident at school. He’d rested for a few days and showed no further signs of a concussion. He was back to normal, full of energy and inquisitive as ever. Last week he’d asked why Carlos wasn’t staying at their house anymore, and it had taken every ounce of her strength to explain to him that Carlos was only staying with them while he was recovering. Now that he was fully recovered, he was back at his own house.
Her son had then asked when he could come over to play with him since they were friends, and it had hurt Kelsey’s heart to reply that he was busy with work as a police officer and may not be able to visit for a while.
In the days that followed, James had requested that they play Cops and Robbers every afternoon, and she knew that he was missing his buddy. Their home seemed less full without Carlos and even her four-year-old son had noticed.
Walking into her bedroom, she got into bed and grabbed her phone to respond to Dillon. She hadn’t washed her face or brushed her teeth, but she wasn’t sure if she could face the note in her mirror tonight. She also knew she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to take it down and throw it away. Kelsey was sure this wasn’t the first time that oral hygiene had fallen to the wayside in the midst of heartbreak.
When she hit the home button to unlock her phone, she was surprised to see a text from Rafe. In true Kelsey fashion, she’d told Sophie and Becky about her breakup but hadn’t gone into detail, unwilling to open up to even her closest friends. Sophie had tried to push the subject, mentioning in their call over the weekend that Rafe had been spending a lot of time with Carlos over the last couple of weeks. She’d shut down the conversation, not wanting to hear about Carlos doing whatever it was he did now that he was single again. Her biggest fear was that he’d gone back to his old ways, a different badge bunny every week.
Rafe: You and Carlos helped me when I fucked up with Sophie last year, so I’m returning the favor. Check your email and keep an open mind. Please read the entire email. If you read it and don’t want to respond, that’s fine. Just please give him a shot to explain a few things.
Assuming Rafe wasn’t looking for a response, she closed out of her messages and pulled up her email. When her inbox refreshed, she saw a message from [email protected] at the top. Her thumb hovered over the e
mail, torn between opening it and deleting it. She swiped to the left and almost hit the small red trash can to remove it from her inbox, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Despite the hopelessness of their situation, she wanted to read what he had to say. She also couldn’t help but notice that he’d changed his email address from the goofy one he’d used in their previous exchanges to a more serious one.
Throwing caution to the wind, she took in a big gulp of air and opened the message.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Honesty
Today at 8:36 p.m.
Hey Kels,
As you guessed from the subject, the name of the game is honesty. In that vein, I’ll tell you honestly that I lied when I said I was done fighting for us. You know me, I never back down from a challenge. This next bit will probably be as difficult for you to read as it is for me to write, but it needs to be said.
We fucked up. Both of us, Kelsey. I’ve never been great with vulnerability, something I’m sure you understand all too well. Growing up with my mother, I learned pretty quickly that I couldn’t show any weakness—she would exploit it in a heartbeat. That’s why, at a pretty young age, I started hiding behind humor. It’s a habit that I’ve carried with me into adulthood; in fact, it’s become an integral part of my personality. The problem with using humor as a defense mechanism though is that it fails me when I’m alone. When the darker thoughts come creeping in, all of the worries about my career and my inadequacies swallow me whole.
I spent a lot of time hiding from myself. Instead of going home after work and facing my issues, I would go out and party. I went out almost every night of the week, too much of a coward to face an empty apartment and my own thoughts. When I was injured, I couldn’t do that. In a time full of uncertainty, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore, and that was fucking terrifying. Instead of admitting that I was hurting, instead of seeking help, I turned to pills. If I couldn’t leave the house to escape my darker thoughts, I could bury them in a haze of pills instead. And I did.
Then, suddenly, my nights were filled with you and James, and I switched one dependency out for another. I began to rely on you to cheer me up, a habit almost as unhealthy for me as pills. Losing you was the push I needed to finally get help. That morning when I got back to my apartment, I broke down. And then I did the thing I’ve been avoiding doing for years—I called out for help. I told Rafe everything, and it felt like a damn weight had been lifted from my chest. It was both freeing and terrifying.
With his help, I joined Narcotics Anonymous and talked to my boss about what was going on. After he yelled at me for being a dumbass for about an hour, he thanked me for being honest and, get this, told me that he would help me in any way that he could. I never realized how much of a support system I had in place until I finally asked for help. NA is going really well, actually. I’ve only gone twice but meeting others who have struggled similarly has made me feel less inadequate, and more like a guy who has made some mistakes in his life.
Now that I’ve laid myself bare, I have a hard truth to lay on you. Please don’t close and delete this email, I need you to hear me out. If after you read this you never want to talk to me again, I’ll respect your choice. Well, I’ll try. Probably.
It took two people to break us up, Kels. I don’t regret the things that I said to you, only the way that I said them. You shut me out for the entirety of our relationship. Can you imagine how frustrating it was to know you well enough to tell that something was wrong while also knowing that you wouldn’t tell me what it was?
I’m sure that you have reservations about the effect my messy life will have on James if I come around right now. I love him enough to agree with you. So here is what I propose: honesty. Let’s try to rebuild what we lost—via email. I know it’s a very You’ve Got Mail approach to a relationship, but it keeps our relationship isolated from James while we try to determine whether this thing between us is salvageable. As an added bonus, I find it a lot easier to be completely open and vulnerable from behind the screen of a computer. Maybe you will too.
The only rule is complete and total transparency in all emails. If you have a shit day, I want to know why. If you’re doubting me, or us, or yourself, I want to know about it. And this goes both ways. I promise to tell you every single thing I’m thinking and feeling.
I miss you every single moment of every single day,
Carlos
P.S. Men are statistically more likely to say “I love you” in a relationship. I love you.
P.P.S. Say hi to the girls (read: your perfect tits) for me. Maybe give them a little honka-honka. I bet they miss me as much as I miss them.
Over the next few days, Kelsey read and re-read the email from Carlos more times than she could count. She liked what he was proposing in theory but was afraid of putting herself out there. He wanted complete and open honesty about her feelings, something she’d never really offered to anyone. She loved that he had come up with a plan that wouldn’t involve James further. Her poor son was already confused enough by everything with Kyle and Carlos’s sudden absence. This way, the two of them could explore and rebuild their potential relationship without getting James’s hopes up.
In the end, she decided to throw caution to the wind for once in her life and go for what she wanted, and what she wanted was Carlos.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Honesty
Today at 9:52 a.m.
Carlos,
You’re right—that was hard to read. But I needed to hear it. I am closed off, I always have been. Growing up, my parents were kind of absent and it left me in charge of my brothers. I had to grow up quickly and I learned not to burden anyone with my emotions. I mean, how could I unload all of my fears and concerns on my younger siblings when they were looking to me for guidance?
I remember one time, I tried to talk to my dad about a test I was stressing over. It was such a small thing, but I had been studying in my spare moments. That’s the thing about raising your siblings—your schoolwork comes last. I could only study after I helped Dillon with his calculus, worked with Josh on his science project, and fed them all dinner. I asked my dad for help with my brothers and told him that I was worried about this test. You know what he told me? He told me that I needed to stop whining and start getting shit done. Then he left for a business trip that kept him away for the next two weeks. I was seventeen.
I want to be more open about my feelings, and I want to learn how to ask for help when I need it. This stuff comes hard for me, but I guess what I’m saying is that I’m willing to try. My first big truth of the day is this: I miss you. I really do. I still haven’t taken down the sticky note you left in my bathroom. As painful as it is to see that reminder of you daily, I can’t bring myself to get rid of it.
Tell me more about NA. Are you liking your sponsor? Do you go once a week? Have you gone back to work? I want to hear everything.
Yours (another truth for the day),
Kelsey
* * *
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Addiction Fucking Sucks
Today at 11:17 p.m.
Kelsey,
I wanted pills today. I got home from work and it was just so damn quiet in this stupid apartment. I tried to fill the void—made dinner, turned on some TV. Hell, I even considered calling my mother to stave off the loneliness. (I still haven’t talked to her since the hospital incident.) This whole getting to know myself thing sucks. But that’s what the therapist I’m seeing recommended. He said that I should spend some time learning to love me. I’ve never been given such a difficult task.
You know what I realized recently? I haven’t even liked myself for a long time. I was just so damn focused on my career and running from my problems that I don’t even think I got to know myself. As weird as it sounds, I’m doing this new thing w
here I find one thing to appreciate about me every day. Today that one thing is my ability to love with everything I have.
That’s how I love you and James—with everything. I know that might scare you, and I know you’re not ready to say it back, but in my line of work I’ve learned to tell the people you care about how you feel every chance that you get.
I miss you every single moment of every single day,
Carlos
* * *
P.S. Kissing has been proven to relieve stress. Next time you’re feeling stressed, I’ve totally got you covered.
* * *
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Random Facts
Today at 12:41 p.m.
Carlos,
Today’s truth: I use random facts to relieve myself from situations in which I’m uncomfortable. I’m sure this isn’t some groundbreaking revelation, but it’s true, and it’s not something I’ve ever admitted to anyone else. In general, the facts come out when I’m nervous, but occasionally I use them to deflect a question I’m not comfortable with, or change the subject when someone brings up a topic of conversation I don’t want to discuss. I used to only spout off history facts, but when I realized that I was starting to repeat myself, I broadened my weird habit.