by Daisy Allen
“I… I don’t understand,” I say, and I can feel my head shaking.
“I just don’t know what you want from me.”
“All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. Are you happy?”
“Does it look like it? And you? Are you happy?”
“Me? Worried that you’re going to go off and kill someone, or worse, get yourself killed? No. That doesn’t make me happy.”
“Then what am I doing in your life? I have no role. I don’t want to be the one who makes you look like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like you don’t have any tears left to cry.”
“Oh, Xavier. I was so worried.”
“I know. And that’s not fair on you. But I don’t know any other way to be right now. I can’t help feeling like I never was, and have never been, good enough.”
“What are you talking about?”
“There’s only so much chasing I can do, Malynda. I waited, searched for you, for twelve long years. All I wanted was to show you how much I loved you. How much I wanted to be with you. I put my life on hold. And then I found you. And I loved you even more than I did before. And my life finally started moving forward. And it still wasn’t enough. But this time, I’m thirty, not eighteen. And maybe I can read signs I couldn’t before. That sometimes the person you love, isn’t the same as the person who is right for you. If I’m making you cry like this, I’m not the person for you, Malynda. And if you felt like you couldn’t tell me what happened, then I’m not the person you should be with.”
“Xavier!”
“I’m sorry. I think this is best.”
“But I love you.”
“You will never love me as much as I loved and love you. Don’t you ever forget that.”
“But Xavier!”
There’s a beeping from the machine on his left and a nurse runs in, pushing me to the side.
“He needs his rest, you should wait outside, miss.”
“No! I need to…”
“Go,” he says, turning his head from me. “It’s better this way.”
I feel a hand circling my wrist and pulling me from the room.
“Come on,” Jade’s voice gently says to me. “I’ll take you home.”
How do I tell her the only home I ever had just left me?
***
Him
It’s quiet in here, just the sound of my own breath and the beeping of a machine telling me I’m still alive. Even if I wish I weren’t.
“Hey,” says the voice at the door.
“Hey back,” I say. What else is there to say?
His voice is low and I can barely hear it through the bandage and the machines. “Jade took her home.”
It takes more strength than I knew I had to just lay still and not rip the tubes from me and run after her. “Okay. Thanks.”
“I can bring her back when you’re ready…”
“No. That won’t be necessary.”
“You sure?”
"Yeah. I think I've said what needed to be said."
“For you or for her?”
“For her.”
“And what about you?”
“Don’t you get it? What’s best for her is what’s best for me.”
“Have you ever considered that what is best for you is best for her?”
He leaves before I can respond. Bastard.
Thirty-Five
Her
He always says he waited, searched for me for twelve years. But I spent twelve years trying not to be found. I never realized how much that shaped how I lived, what choices I made.
Those first few years, changing my name, how I looked. I became someone new.
I shed the girl I had grown up with for eighteen years, and evolved into someone who lived a life I didn’t think could be traced to someone I wanted to forget.
But nothing really changed.
The very essence of me, my love for art and color stayed.
And it brought me back to him. The one who’d lured that love out of me in the first place.
As much as I was hiding from him, I’d made my life a tribute to him. Living vicariously through my memories. Too afraid to give him a chance.
I never realized that until now.
Now that it’s too late.
He’s right. We weren’t good for each other.
If I was driving him to the brink of death to try to right some wrongs of the past, then I shouldn’t be a part of his life.
How can I stand by watching him kill himself, in the name of trying to protect me?
But if I could, I would change it all.
I would show him that he was enough, that I trusted him, that I needed him. That nothing would ever be the same without him.
“What do you want for lunch?” Cameron’s voice makes me jump. We’ve spent the last week packing up my apartment. There’s no way I can stay here, after what happened. In a way, it almost feels like a relief to have something to focus on, something to wipe the slate clean. Something to mark a new phase in my life.
“Um, I’m not really hungry.”
“You’ve gotta eat something! How ‘bout I go grab something from Donali’s.”
I smile at my friend and business partner. He’s been here for me from the moment Jade brought me home from the hospital.
We talked about what happened the night before I woke up in his bed, and while I know it was innocent and he was just there to comfort me, I can’t help feeling that maybe he feels like it was the start of something new. But I’m not ready for that. And I may never be.
“Um, yeah, that sounds great. Thank you.”
“Sure, I’ll be right back, okay?” He drops the box he’s packing and gives me a wink as he heads for the door. I wait until I hear his footsteps down the hallway before I run over and pull the chain across.
I can never feel safe here again.
Thirty-Six
Him
“I don’t need your help! I can walk to my own bedroom,” I snap, and regret it almost immediately. Almost.
“Fine, fall over and break another rib. See if I care,” Kaine says, stepping back and ignoring my sway to the side.
“Passive aggression is not a good color on you, boss. Stick to grey hoodies and pinstripe suits,” I hiss, my breath ragged after only a few steps.
“You’re cranky when you’re not beating up other people.”
“You could volunteer as a punching bag and help out your loyal friend.”
“No thanks, my face is scarred enough,” he jokes.
I laugh and then my ribs make me regret it. “You did that on purpose, you sadistic fucker,” I groan as I ease myself into my recliner, staring out into the grey.
“Have you heard from her?”
“Who?”
My friend’s eyes roll far back into his head. "Now who's being passive-aggressive?”
“I have no choice, doctors said if I was aggressive aggressive I could tear my stitches.”
“So all I had to do to get you to listen to me was get a medical degree?”
“Yeah. Why don’t you get on that? See you in seven years.”
“Eh, I’ll just buy one.” He shrugs.
I can’t help but laugh again, and then wince as something pulls tight and throbs inside my torso. Gotta stop doing that.
“So, what are you going to do with your time off?” Kaine asks, pouring himself a drink.
“What time off? I’m not taking any time off! I’ll be in the office tomorrow.” I reach out my hand for a glass and he ignores me as he sips on his drink, the ice clinking against the sides.
“Yeah, no thanks. I don’t want you scaring the other employees.”
“You just don’t want me usurping your role.”
“Exactly, can’t have their fear shared between the two of us.”
“Pfft. Whatever. I’ll work from home.” I shift in my seat trying to get comfortable. In vain.
“You’ll rest from home.”
“I’m not taking time off, Kaine. We have too much work.”
“Last I looked it was Ash on the side of the building, not Kent.”
“This is horse shit, man!”
He grins and for a moment I’m glad to see him smile. I haven’t given him much reason to recently. “Horse shit might actually be good for you. Go sit on a farm somewhere and breathe in the fresh air.”
“If I go down and sniff the manure mounds from the horse carriages down at the park, will you let me get back to work?”
“Sure. But only if you take a selfie.”
“Kaine.”
“Shut up, you idiot. Your head’s not in the right space. I don’t want you fucking up any of our projects while you’re like this. So get yourself sorted out. Take the car, take the plane, take whatever you need. But sort yourself out. The work will be there when you get back. I don’t intend on going belly up any time soon.”
“You might if I’m not there.”
“Too bad they didn’t inflate your ego instead of your spleen.”
“You’re a real asshole, you know?”
“I have you to remind me every day, Xave. Stay alive for that if nothing else.”
“Fuck off.”
“I’m serious. Try to stay alive. You still owe me $20 from last week’s card game.”
"It was Go Fish, and I was half-conscious."
“Not my fault you didn’t check the fine print. Jade will be by later to fuss over you.”
“I’ll make sure I need a sponge bath then!” I yell at his back as he chuckles on his way to the elevator.
I wait until I hear the door close behind him before I let out my breath, groaning at the pain in my chest.
That has nothing to do with my injuries.
Thirty-seven
Her
“Who are these from?” I ask, as Cameron carries a large bouquet of flowers into my office. I try to bite back the hope that the card will be signed with an X.
“From me,” he replies, with a smile, setting the vase on my desk.
I hope he doesn’t see the disappointment on my face.
“Oh, they’re beautiful, Cam. What’s the occasion?” I pull a rose from the bunch and bring it to my nose. Not much of a fragrance, which is why I like flowers in the first place, but still beautiful.
“Do I need an occasion? How about, just a reminder of how much I appreciate you being my partner, and that I’m excited about our future.”
“This is very sweet, Cameron. But you didn’t have to do that. You’ve done so much for me these last few weeks.”
“It will never be enough, Isabella.” He winks and walks out the door, whistling down the hallway as he goes to his own office.
Something about the way he says my name causes a scrunching inside my chest. It’s been three weeks since anyone has called me anything but Isabella, but day by day, I’m feeling more distanced from the adopted name.
There's nothing wrong with Isabella. But I miss Malynda. And the life she was supposed to have lived. I shake my head and focus back on the designs in front of me. The youth shelter has almost finished its renovations and hopefully, in a few days, I can start moving things in. I only have about ten days to get everything ready for the grand opening. I scan my list of furniture that still needs to be ordered and try to estimate how much labor will be needed for the painting and fixtures installations.
I don’t realize how long I’ve been working on it until I look up and the sky outside the window is a soft pink, sinking into night.
The office is almost empty and my neck cracks as I stretch it to the side.
For the first time in weeks, I feel so tired I might actually be able to get some sleep.
I shove my laptop into my bag and flick the light off. I can see Cameron on the phone in his office and I give him a wave as I make my way out.
The building's foyer is empty except for the security guard and I smile at the doorman as he wishes me goodnight. I step out into the cooling air and stop dead in my tracks.
It’s him.
Here.
Damien.
I freeze, my entire body cold and hot all at once.
And then I turn to run.
“Please! Stop!” He reaches out, his hand circling around my wrist, stopping me. I shake him off so hard that my shoulder almost pops out of the socket.
“No! Don’t you fucking touch me.” I yell, all the rage of twelve years built up inside me, drenched with fear.
He throws his hands up into the air.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m not going to touch you. Or hurt you.”
“Too late!” I yell again. I can see rather than feel my lip quivering, and I try to relax, counting to five under my breath. “What are you doing here?”
“I-...”
“No.” I hold a hand up to cover my eyes from the sight of his face. “I don’t care. Don’t ever come near me again. I dropped the charges from you breaking into my apartment because I didn’t want to drag… anyone else into this. So you trashed my apartment, he bashed you. Let’s call it even. But I’m warning you, don’t ever come near me again.”
I spin around and start to walk away.
“It wasn’t me! You have to know, it wasn’t me!” He shouts, a desperation in his voice I can’t place. I stop, even though I know I shouldn’t. But something... something makes me stop. “I swear, it wasn’t me who trashed your apartment.”
I turn and face him. I stare into the face that has kept me up for twelve long years. Into the eyes that color my nightmares and turns my blood cold. He doesn’t look away. And he says it again.
“I thought, I owed you at least that. To promise you I didn’t break into your apartment. That’s what the police and that guy who bashed me said, that I had broken into your apartment and trashed it. It wasn’t me. I swear on everything that it wasn’t.”
I shake my head. The nerve of this man. “You’re just saying that to get off the hook. I found the ballet slipper you left, you sick fuck!”
His forehead creases. “I don’t know what slipper you’re talking about. I came here because you find out who did do it. You have to know I didn’t want to come here. I never wanted to see you again either. If he found out, I don’t know what will happen. But that night, I can’t tell you why I acted like that, but it wasn’t who I am and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
The eyes I’m staring into fill with tears, and he looks away.
“What did you say?”
“I said, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me that night. I promise you, it had never happened before and hasn’t happened since.”
“No. Not that. If ‘he found out’ you came here? Who is ‘he’?”
He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. I came to say, I’m so sorry. And you might never believe me about that, but please, believe me when I tell you. It wasn’t me who broke into your apartment. I mean, I don’t even know where you live.”
“Then how…?” I start to ask.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” We both turn at the sound of Cameron’s voice.
I’m relieved until I see his face.
It’s scrunched in anger.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he growls at Damien, moving his arm to shield me. “Get the fuck away from her right now!”
Damien’s face scrunches up, like he wants to say one last thing, decides against it and starts to run down the street.
I push Cameron’s arm away and shout after him. “Wait! How did you even find me?”
For a second it doesn’t look like he’s going to stop. But then he does and yells back at me, “Ask him. Ask Cameron. And remember what I said.” Then he dashes across the street and is lost in the crowd before I can ask him one last question.
I don’t realize I’m shaking until Cameron wraps his arms around me.
“Hey, Isa,” he whispers. “You’re okay. He’s gone now.”
I take a moment to let my breath and body settle, the words spirali
ng in my mind making me dizzy.
“Cameron?” I pull away and look up at him.
“Yeah?”
“What did he mean, ‘ask Cameron’?” As I wait for his answer, something occurs to me, “And how do you even know who he is?”
He doesn’t answer immediately but I know him so well, I can see his brain formulating an answer. But I don’t want a formulated answer. I want the truth. All of it.
“Cameron!”
“Look, it’s nothing. Um, well, you told me about him when we first met, remember?” I just nod; of course I remember. But I’d never told Cameron his name or showed him what he looked like and yet Cameron had recognized him on sight. “Well, I figured out who he was from what you’d told me. So, er, I went by the dance school one day and he and I had a talk.”
I can’t believe it. “Oh my god! Why didn’t you ever tell me this?! What happened when you went to talk to him?”
“Isa! Does any of this matter? It was so long ago! And everything worked out for the best. Come on, let’s go back inside.”
“No, Cameron, I am not leaving this spot until you tell me what happened!”
“Look, I just wanted to help you. So I just offered him some money to leave New York. He could leave and never ever come back here to bother you ever again and I wouldn’t report him to the police for attacking you.”
“Oh my god! That’s why he left! Because of you!”
“Yes, but he obviously didn’t listen or else he wouldn’t be back here.”
I shake my head, speechless. And then the thoughts start to filter through. “Wait. That’s how he found me. That’s how he knew I would be here tonight. He found me through you. He couldn't have found me as Isabella Fountaine. He only knew me as Malynda before.” My head is pounding as my past appears in front of me completely jumbled. Cameron and Damien? Talking? Making deals?
“I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll make sure he gets a reminder about our deal,” Cameron says, totally oblivious to what I’m thinking.