by Nia Arthurs
Her nostrils flare with each breath. She looks so peaceful when she sleeps. Like the angel that she is.
I can do this. I can spend the rest of my life alone with Mrs. G. People don’t need relationships to be happy. It’s my fault for being greedy. For wanting more than this amazing family that rallied around a total stranger and accepted her as their own.
I don’t need a man.
And Lucas doesn’t need someone like me.
My mind made up, I return to my room and grab my laptop. Trembling fingers poise over the keyboard.
Dear Lucas,
I am so grateful for all you’ve done for me. You are an amazing man and it was such a privilege to love you.
I stare at the words.
Delete the last two.
You are an amazing man and it was such a privilege to meet you. I never would have made it this far without your help. Unfortunately, I don’t think we’re meant to be together. It’s best for both of us if we go our separate ways.
I blow out a deep breath. Shake my fingers out to stop them from shaking.
I want to break up.
I stare at it.
Delete it.
Try again.
Let’s break up.
I delete it.
Then rewrite it.
Read it over twice.
Try not to cry.
In the end, I send the email and set the laptop aside.
My eyes are burning. My heart feels like someone is using it for target practice. I didn’t know letting someone go would be this painful. It’s like my skin is getting peeled off inch by inch.
A part of me wants to run to my laptop and take all the words back.
I force myself to go to the bathroom, wash my face and let it go.
This is the best thing for Lucas.
If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll take my offer and run for the hills.
After drying my face, I return to my bedroom.
My laptop is open.
1 New Message
My heart jumping like a frog in hot water, I rush to the screen and click on the tab.
Lucas’s message opens in front of me.
Dear Ina,
No.
I stare at the screen.
Look away.
Read it again.
Did Lucas… just refuse to break up with me?
Thirty-One
Lucas
I’m still fuming about that email the next morning when the front door opens. Jonas steps in, wearing his usual jacket and jeans.
I glare at him.
He stops short. Arches both eyebrows. What?
I shake my head. Nothing.
The spatula makes a metallic whisking sound as I angrily scrape up the cookies from the baking sheets. I’d left them out all night, but they’re still good.
My brother’s eyes fall on the pastries. Smiling eagerly, he hustles over and reaches for one.
I smack him with the spatula.
Jonas bellows. “Bro!”
“These are for Ina.”
He stares at me in shock. “All of it?”
“You got a problem with that?”
He grunts.
I return to the task of shoveling up the cookies and laying them in a huge Ziploc bag. As I work, my mind goes over what happened last night. The way Ina had seized up in bed. How nervous and terrified she’d looked as she begged me to get away from her.
My movements stall.
Then stop.
I lean over on the counter and hang my head as pain slices through my chest. It was obviously too much too fast. Did she push herself for me? Did I do or say something to make her think I’d leave her if we didn’t have sex soon?
“Damn it!” I toss the spatula.
It goes flying and clatters against the sink.
Jonas shuffles back. “What the hell?”
I run a hand through my hair. Last night, I told Ina I wouldn’t break up with her. But was that the right choice? What if I’m the reason she had a flashback?
The last thing I want to do is hurt her.
The last thing I want to do is let her go.
A hand settles on my shoulder. I look over and see Jonas’s golden eyes trained on me.
I shrug him off. “I’m fine.”
“Things didn’t go well last night?”
I narrow my eyes.
“Nellie told me to make myself scarce. I put two and two together.”
I pick up the spatula. “You listen to Nellie now?”
He shrugs.
I return to my feet.
My head is pounding.
My heart is jacked.
My body is thrumming with anxiety.
Ina’s driving me crazy.
How the hell am I supposed to do the right thing for her? For us?
Her big, terrified eyes fill my mind.
Please don’t touch me…
Every time I try to make sense of it, my mind drags me down darker and darker paths.
I got greedy. Screwed up her confidence. Made her so terrified of me she slipped back to that nightmare she lived through.
Somewhere along the line, I lost control.
But is that something I can change?
Is that something she can change?
Damn.
I don’t have any answers.
The more I try to rationalize, the crazier everything seems.
So I push the thoughts away.
Focus on Jonas. “If you want breakfast, I’ll make you something else.”
He shakes his head no.
“Alright then.” I take a step to leave.
Jonas leans against the counter. “There’s somebody for everybody.” He sighs. “That’s what Kate used to say.”
My gaze collides with his.
Jonas rarely talks about Kate.
He was older when she died, but it hit him just as hard as when our parents passed.
Or maybe worse.
Back then, Kate was the only one who got him to smile.
He stopped doing that after…
We both stopped.
Jonas’s voice cracks. “She used to say that Superman always finds Lois Lane and Flash always runs home to Iris West.”
“Kate was a romantic?”
“Secretly.”
“I didn’t know.”
“She didn’t want you to know.”
“Why?”
He tilts his head and squints at the ceiling. “Because she liked that you thought she was strong.”
Damn.
My back gets tense as hell.
I clear my throat. “Nothing wrong with being sweet.”
His lips twitch. True. “You even gave her a name. Remember? Kate the Great.” Jonas bobs his head. “She started drawing her own comics about it.”
“About herself?”
He nods.
“Doing what?”
“Whatever she wanted.” He swallows hard. “You made her a superhero. You made her believe it.”
I turn away from him. Try to scrub my face to get my steely expression back before I start bawling.
I can feel Jonas’s steady gaze. “You do that to Ina too.” I hear his sneakers scuffing the tile. “She’s stronger when she’s with you.”
“She’s strong all by her damn self.”
“On the outside, yeah. But not everyone who looks like they have it all together do.”
I turn. Watch him. “Jo, you know we can talk—”
“Yeah.”
The kitchen falls silent.
My failures, as a boyfriend and as a brother, pile on top of me.
There’s too much crap in my head. I can’t think straight right now. It’s a familiar sensation—this clawing, hopeless darkness.
I got too comfortable in Ina’s light.
I’d forgotten what it felt like to go without it.
Damn.
This is hard.
I can’t live without her.
She compl
etely ruined me.
Nails scrape against tiles. It’s Frank. He rises from his doghouse, strolls into the kitchen, and sniffs Jonas’s leg.
My brother scoops him. “Sup, Frank.”
Frank licks his chin and barks.
I turn away from them. “Go. Shower. I’ll make eggs.”
He nods. I hear him mumbling to Frank about his stink breath as they wander down the hall.
I shake my head even as a slow smile grows on my face.
As much as I’ve lost, I still have a lot to be grateful for.
I still have a lot to live for.
Something clicks in my head.
My relationship with Ina might be different, but it’s still everything.
I respect Ina’s opinions and understand her fears. I do.
But I just can’t let her go.
Thirty-Two
Ina
I plod through the hospital’s exits and spot Lucas parked across the street. My white sneakers brush the concrete and come to a complete stop.
My heart twists.
How is it that I missed him like crazy when I just saw him last night? Is this some side-effect of love that no one ever told me about?
I knew enough to be prepared for the accelerated pulse and the heavy breathing, but this mild obsession with Lucas? This insane desire to be around him all the time?
Yeah.
I wasn’t prepared for that.
I hate that.
It’s pathetic.
Especially for me.
I’ve been making it on my own for thirty years.
How dare he show up and start taking over?
Lucas crosses the street to meet me. The green dress shirt and pressed trousers tells me he rushed over from work. His messier-than-usual hair tells me he’s run his fingers through it quite a few times.
I stay in place, waiting for him.
It’s a stroke of luck that he caught me. I don’t usually leave the hospital on any set schedule. He could have been parked out here for a while.
Curling my fingers into my purse strap, I prepare myself for the hard conversation that needs to be had.
Lucas pauses in front of me.
I look up at him. “What are you doing here?”
“Making a delivery.” He gestures to his car. “I can’t eat all that chocolate chip by myself.”
Right.
Chocolate chip cookies.
I begged him to bake with me yesterday.
Just to take the edge off.
It worked.
Until it didn’t.
Images fly through my head.
Sucking the batter of his finger.
Kissing him.
Moving things to the next level.
Crashing and burning.
My eyes fall to the ground.
This is so awkward.
And humiliating.
What happened last night is a big, ugly weight on my chest.
I wish I could forget about it.
I wish I could make Lucas forget about it.
This is insane.
If I didn’t like him so much, I probably wouldn’t care.
But I do.
And I don’t know how to change that. I don’t know how to fix this.
His finger crooks under my chin. He lifts my head up. “Ina…”
“What?”
“We need to talk.”
Curry chicken usually hits the spot.
I push around my white rice without really tasting any of it. Lucas is scarfing down tandoori chicken.
He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that we’re here, eating together, after I just broke up with him last night.
Or attempted to.
I haven’t made any mention of the email yet.
Neither has he.
We’re both trying to act like everything’s okay.
Probably not the best move.
I know I shouldn’t be here.
I need to make myself clear and tell him it’s over.
But I can’t seem to summon the words.
Later.
We’ll talk later.
A few more minutes in his presence can’t hurt.
Lucas pauses. Stares at my mostly empty plate. “It’s not good?”
“No, it’s great.”
“You want some of mine?”
“No.” Nudging my plate toward him, I offer. “You can have the rest of this.”
He shrugs and pulls the food toward himself.
While Lucas eats, I glance around at the earthy décor.
We’ve come to this restaurant before.
We sat at the table in the corner the last time, sitting close together and snickering about his students’ latest antics.
I can see us there now, smiling over the divinely warm naan bread.
Holding hands under the table.
Feeding each other.
Intentionally smearing curry on his face.
Laughing as he wipes it clean with a napkin.
It makes me want to cry when I compare the couple we were then to the one sitting stiffly here now, trying not to look each other in the eye.
Lucas takes a sip of his water. Clears his throat. “So…”
“So?”
“Do you want to go for a walk?”
I look down and realize he’s eaten every morsel in both our plates.
He pats his stomach. “I need to work that off.”
My smile is small but genuine. I nod.
We head outside to the garden at the back of the property.
Lucas takes my hand.
I instinctively intertwine our fingers and hold on tight.
This is the last time.
I need to savor his touch, his smell, his everything.
Moonlight floods our path with silver. Fragrant blooms arch their petals before us. Our shoes crunch against grass with every step we take.
In the middle of the garden, there’s a trickling fountain.
Lucas stops in front of it.
I do too.
He sighs softly. “Ina.”
My eyes squeeze tightly shut.
No.
Not yet.
I’m not ready to let him go yet.
“Look at me.”
I shake my head.
He squeezes my hand. “Ina.”
A lump forms in my throat.
My heart twists.
I slowly open my eyes as an empty pang echoes in my chest.
He’s staring at me with so much tenderness, so much love.
I can’t do this to him.
I can’t chain him to my baggage anymore.
“You know why we can’t be together,” I whisper.
“No, I don’t.”
“Lucas…”
“I’m not with you just so I can have sex.”
“I didn’t say that—”
“We can keep trying. And even if we don’t, I’m not letting you go.”
“You don’t mean that.” I shake my head, tears brimming in my eyes. “No man can handle that.”
He stares at me for a long, hard moment.
Grief slams my entire body.
It’s like my world is crumbling.
I don’t want to do this.
I don’t want to leave Lucas.
But I love him too much to trap him in my world of pain and nightmares.
“When Kate died, I didn’t know how to cope.” His voice is low, broken. “I felt responsible. I felt like I’d let my family down.”
“You didn’t, Luc.”
“I did.” He meets my eyes. “I went to college. I partied. I slept around. I did everything I wanted to do without thinking of them once. Not once, Ina.”
My breath hitches.
“After the funeral, I swore that I’d be there for Jonas. I didn’t allow myself to waver. I focused on my job and my family. That’s it. There was no room for laughter or love or light. I was rigid and cold.” His jaw muscles tighten. “Then I met you.”
My heart thumps painfully.
“I met you and everything changed.”
“You won’t change my mind.” A tear slips down my cheek as I push his fingers off my hand.
His hold breaks.
His arm swings free.
Emotions chop up my words. “I thought I could be normal someday. I thought I could beat this, but I don’t know if I ever will.”
“Ina…”
I take a step back. “You don’t deserve to be dragged into my darkness. You deserve a woman who can love you for the amazing, patient, kind man that you are. And I—I’m not her.”
“Don’t walk away.”
I turn.
Take a step.
My head is splitting in two.
I’m dying.
I’m not going to make it through tonight.
Not if I leave him behind.
Still, I take another step.
I hear grass crunching.
A second later, Lucas wraps me up in a hug from behind.
His arms cross my stomach.
His breath hits the back of my neck.
I melt into his embrace instinctively.
My body doesn’t care that it’s over.
It just wants to be close to him.
He tilts his head and whispers in my ear. “What happened to the woman who knew she was worthy of love? Who swore that she’d be strong even when she was scared?”
“Don’t do this, Luc.”
His grip tightens.
I gather myself and push his arms off.
It hurts.
Lord, it hurts so bad.
I can’t look at him.
Without turning back, I march through the grass and leave Lucas behind.
Somehow, I manage to catch a taxi and get myself home without breaking down.
Mrs. G is sitting in the living room watching TV when I walk in. She turns it off and twists around to greet me with a smile.
The moment I see her, the dam breaks.
I crumple to my feet and sob.
“Ina!” She leaps out of the chair and wraps her arms around me.
I cry uncontrollably.
My face crumples.
My mouth opens wide.
Another heart-wrenching sob splits my chest in half.
“What’s wrong?” Mrs. G mumbles. “Honey, talk to me.”
“L-Lucas.”
She pulls back. Stares at me.
It’s too painful to speak, but Mrs. G seems to understand. Her eyes fill with sadness, but she pats my back and says, “It’s okay.”
“Is it?” I gasp for breath. “Did I do the right thing?”