by Claire Adams
“I’m not joking, Dad,” I said, as loud as I could. “I wouldn’t joke about this. Brent is in prison, and he will be for a long time.”
“Caitlin,” Dad practically had to scream. “Get off the phone so I can speak to Megan…now!”
Mom’s response was to keep wailing into the phone. I heard some static on the other line and then a click as Dad hung up. Less than a minute later, I heard him wrestle the phone away from her and then the wailing became background noise.
“Megan, is this a joke?” he asked harshly.
“Not even a little bit.”
“Is it true?”
“Is Brent really guilty?” I said. “Yes, he is without a doubt a hundred percent guilty. The evidence against him was overwhelming and his ‘business partner’ outed him.”
“He could have been lying?”
“But he’s not,” I said. “He had texts to prove that he and Brent were in it together.”
“This is crazy… I…”
“I have the name and number of the officer who handled Brent’s arrest and case. I can pass his number on to you if you have any questions.”
“I definitely have questions—and not all of them for him.”
“What—”
“Why didn’t you tell us any of this sooner?”
“Because… I was scared to,” I admitted. “At first… there was nothing to tell and then when it became clear there was… I just—”
“What happened with the other one? Phil?” Dad interrupted.
“All charges against Phil were dropped,” I said. “He was set up by Brent, Dad… He had nothing to do with any of this. Brent knew how to get into Phil’s apartment because I had mentioned Phil’s spare key one time while he was in the room. He didn’t even have to break in, he just used the key, stashed the drugs, and then sent an anonymous tip to the police.”
“You should have called us. We could have done something.”
“There was nothing you could have done,” I said. “And in any case, there was nothing you should have done.”
“What does that mean?”
“Brent is a child, Dad,” I said. “He was not prepared to be an adult, which was why he kept making bad choices—these are the consequences of those choices, and he needs to feel them in order to learn.”
“He is your brother—”
“And he nearly put the love of my life behind bars for a crime he committed,” I said, as my anger revealed itself in my tone. “And, you know what? I don’t think he cared at all that he was framing an innocent man. And that should bother you, Dad; that should make you realize that your son needs help. Maybe prison is the help he needs.”
There was a long pause. “Megan, how can you be so cruel?”
I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment. “I’ll text you the number of the police officer, Dad,” I said, without getting into an argument with him over this. “Take care of yourself. Take care of Mom. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
I hung up and stared at my phone. All that conversation had succeeded in doing was showing me that my only real family was the man I had turned my back on when he needed me the most.
Chapter Thirty-One
Phil
She was in every thought I had. But at least during the day when I was at work, I was able to be distracted. The adrenalin of being on the job and the company of Kendrick, Mel, and Ryan helped keep memories of Megan at bay. Not all the time, but enough so that it was manageable, at the very least.
But going home was the worst. My apartment felt so much bigger and so much emptier somehow. I had entertained the thought of asking Megan to live with me before my arrest, and now those hopes were leagues away. I didn’t know what to do with myself when I got home, and it seemed that no matter how tired I was I couldn’t fall asleep easily. I tried blasting music in my ears to drown out my thoughts, but still, she managed to creep into my psyche somehow and torment me with her absence.
I was in the day room that morning. We had been called out in the early morning, but it was nothing dire, and we had been back at the station in less than an hour. Kendrick and gone to take a quick nap, and Ryan was in the shower. Mel sat opposite me, snacking on some corn chips.
“So, Phil, how have you been doing lately?” Mel asked. I could sense the concern in his voice and wondered if my expression betrayed the turmoil going on inside me.
“Umm…fine,” I mumbled back unconvincingly.
“You miss her, don’t you?” Mel asked.
I sighed, realizing that apparently, I was just that easy to read. “I don’t want to miss her,” I admitted.
“She made a mistake, Phil,” he said gently.
“It was a pretty big mistake,” I pointed out.
“Fair enough…but is it fixable?” he asked. “That is really up to you, don’t you think? We all make mistakes in life; some are bigger than others. It all depends on what you’re willing to forgive and what you’re forced to put behind you.”
“She hasn’t tried to contact me at all,” I said.
“And that upsets you?”
“I don’t know what it does to me, to be honest,” I said. “Sometimes I feel relieved, sometimes I’m disappointed, but mostly I just feel like I’m grieving.”
“You are grieving,” he said. “You’ve lost a relationship in the midst of all this—and by the sounds of it, you had it bad for this girl.”
“I thought about asking her to marry me,” I admitted.
“No shit,” Mel said, raising his eyebrows.
“Not right now,” I clarified. “But I was seriously considering popping the question in a few months. I wanted her to move in with me before then, though.”
“Maybe you should try talking to her?”
“Why?”
“Because whether this is the end for the two of you or not, I think it’s obvious that you need closure.”
“Closure,” I breathed. “That’s the word I’ve been looking for all these days. Maybe you’re right; if I can talk to her and put this all behind me, maybe she won’t be dominating my thoughts every minute of every day.”
“Hmm…it’s a possibility,” he said. “But I wouldn’t count on it.”
“Why not?”
“You love this girl, am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Then closure is not going to do you much good,” he said honestly. “You’re still going to be sad about the relationship ending, whether or not you get closure.”
“Well then…fuck me.”
He gave me a sympathetic smile. “I know you’re hurt and angry,” Mel said bracingly. “But there are relationships that have been through worse.”
“Oh, yeah?” I said challengingly. “Like what?”
“Like cheating,” he said softly.
It was his expression that got to me. “Wait,” I said, in shock. “You cheated?”
“I wasn’t the one who cheated,” he replied.
I raised my eyebrows, realizing what he was telling me. “No way… Dana?”
“We had been married about three years,” he explained. “I had just become a full-fledged firefighter and was working all the time. I was so consumed with work that I forgot to carve out time for her. Even when she begged me to spend some quality time with her, I was either too busy or too tired. After a while, she just stopped asking, and I figured she understood. Then a few months later, she came to me and confessed.”
“She told you herself?” I asked.
“Yep.” Mel nodded. “She came clean. She told me she’d been seeing this guy for a few months and the guilt had finally led her to break up with him and tell me the truth.”
“How did you react?”
“Not well,” he sighed. “We separated for a while, and I thought about filing for divorce several times.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Because I realized that Dana was still the love of my life and that kind of love didn’t come easy. She had made a horrible mistake,
but she admitted to it. She apologized and wanted to make our marriage work. Slowly, I realized that my life just wasn’t the same without her. So I went to her parents’ house where she was staying and told her I wanted to start fresh. We decided to go for couples counseling, and a couple of months later, we were living together again.”
“Fuck,” I breathed. “How did I not know this?”
“Because it was before you joined up and it’s not something I go around telling people.”
“Right…”
“But we have two amazing children now,” he said. “And a marriage that’s as solid as ever.”
“And the fact that she cheated never comes back to haunt you?”
“It used to,” Mel admitted. “But not anymore… I know my wife now, and I know I can trust her. I accept my part in her mistake, and we’ve moved on. We both learned something extremely important from that experience, and that was that relationships are hard, and if they mean something to you, you need to fight to stay together.”
I sighed. “It sounds very romantic when you say it like that.”
“All I can say is if Megan is your Dana, then forgiving her might be in your best interests, too,” Mel said. “But only you can say whether that is true or not.”
I wasn’t a big believer in fate, but just after that conversation with Mel, I got a message on my phone. When I glanced down, I saw Megan’s name; I froze as I read her text. She wanted to talk and had asked to meet me at the park where we had ended up after our first failed attempt at a date. I stared at her message for a while, wondering if this was my big choice… But I knew it couldn’t be.
I agreed to meet her and then I spent the rest of my shift obsessing over the coming meeting. As soon as I hung up my uniform, I showered, put on fresh jeans and a t-shirt, and drove down to the park. Everything about it was familiar and nostalgic, and I felt a pang in my heart that was a cross between happiness and pain. I walked into the large park. Megan hadn’t mentioned exactly where she would be, but she didn’t have to. I knew exactly where to find her.
She was sitting on the same swing she had been sitting on the first time I had approached her. She was wearing a lily-white dress with soft, billowy sleeves and a cinched waist. Her hair fluttered gently in the wind, hiding half her face from sight. The other half looked beautiful and sad. There was something strangely poetic about approaching a beautiful woman in a white dress.
I imagined that we were strangers, and this was nothing more than a new beginning filled with hope. I would say hello, and she would turn to me and smile. I would ask if I could sit down next to her and she would nod. We would spend the next hour talking and slowly, we would both come to realize that we were meant to be together. We would be inseparable for the next few months and then slowly the new romance would fade into solid commitment. We would go from star-crossed lovers to newlyweds, from newlyweds to young parents, and from parents to grandparents.
I almost didn’t want to call out her name because then the fantasy would fade, and we would be back to reality. It was a reality that hurt because I wasn’t sure I could forgive her yet. I hoped this conversation would help in some small way, but I wasn’t sure if it would give me clarity or confusion.
Before I called her name, Megan looked up and caught sight of me. She didn’t smile. She didn’t say anything. She just sat there, so I walked over and sat down on the swing next to hers. She looked me directly in the eye, and I could see how sad she was. It looked as though she had been crying by herself in this lonely park for some time now. A part of me wanted to reach out and touch her face and wipe away her tears, but another part of me bristled at the thought of comforting her when I was the one who was hurt.
“How are you?” she asked, at last breaking the silence.
“I’m…okay?” It sounded like a question.
“I know I hurt you,” she said softly, turning her face down towards our shadows. “I know I was wrong to have believed Brent… I know I was wrong to suspect you even for a minute. All I can say is that I was wrong, I’m so unbelievably sorry and I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
I didn’t know how to respond. Could I forgive her? I wasn’t even sure. One thing I knew for certain was that I didn’t want to hurt Megan either. I just wasn’t sure I could be with someone who didn’t believe in the best version of myself.
“I know you’re sorry,” I said at last because I couldn’t just leave it like that.
“But you don’t know whether you can forgive me, do you?” she asked.
I could tell she was trying really hard not to cry. I wanted to reach out for her, but my pride kept me from moving. “No… I don’t.”
I saw one pearly tear fall from her eyes and then she looked away from me as more started to fall. I just sat there and let her cry, but I did reach out to take her hand. She gripped my hand tightly and returned the pressure, as though I had just offered her a lifeline. We sat like that for several minutes, until Megan’s sobbing finally faded, and the tears began to dry on her face.
“I know what I did broke our relationship,” Megan said, and the crying seemed to have given her voice strength. “I know that I broke your trust in me. I know you must hate me now.”
“I don’t hate you,” I said firmly. “I could never hate you.”
“After what my brother did—”
“Brent’s actions have nothing to do with you,” I said firmly. “I don’t blame you for the fact that your brother framed me.”
“But you do blame me…”
“It’s not blame, Megan,” I said. “It’s hurt. My life…it’s been hard, and I haven’t always had a lot of people to turn to. But the people I do have in my life… I need them to trust me. I need them to believe in me. Because there might be days when my past comes up to haunt me and I need support from the people closest to me.”
“I know,” Megan said. “I realize that now and I see what a huge mistake I made. The truly awful part is that I didn’t think you were capable of doing what you were being accused of. It’s just that…”
“You chose your brother—”
“Yes,” she said passionately. “Only, it was the wrong decision. I meant what I said on that stand in the courtroom the other day, Phil. Brent may be my brother, I have parents who I lived with for eighteen years of my life…but you are my family. It just took all this insanity to help me see that. And I promise you; it will never happen again.”
I was silent for a long time, and I could feel Megan’s fingers tense in my palm. I let go of her hand, and she withdrew it without a fight.
“Is there any hope for us?” she asked quietly.
“I don’t know right now, Megan,” I said honestly.
“I love you,” she said softly and earnestly. “Do you still love me?”
“Of course, I do.” I nodded, unable to meet her eyes. “But… I need time.”
“Then take all the time you need,” she told me. “I’ll wait.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Megan
“You’re taking the class?” Marta asked, looking at the form on my desk.
“Yes.” I nodded. “I decided not to wait…plus I need the distraction.”
“Good for you.” She nodded. “It’s not healthy for you to be moping around, pining for Phil.”
“I’m not pining,” I said defensively. “I’m just…hopeful.”
“Any news?”
I knew what she was really asking. “Not really,” I sighed. “After that talk we had at the park, I haven’t seen or spoken to him. And that was almost a week ago.”
“How did you’ll end it?” Marta asked.
“He told me he needed time and I told him I’d wait.”
“Time for what?” she asked in confusion. “Wait for what?”
I sighed. “I thought I knew at the time, but now I’m fucking confused,” I admitted. “I think he meant time to decide if he wanted to continue our relationship or end it for good. Which terrifies
me to no end… What if he calls me one day and says he’s done?”
“It has been a week,” she said, with a frown. “What if you don’t hear back from him for months?”
“He wouldn’t do that,” I said, feeling my heart skip a beat and not in a good way.
She pursed her lips and looked at me sympathetically. “When does your course start?”
“In a week,” I said. “I’m late in applying, but Miriam said she’s put in a word for me, so I should be okay to enroll.”
“What made you change your mind?” Marta asked.
“I guess I was just tired of postponing everything,” I said. “I need to figure out a plan for myself, and that means jumping in head first. There’s this girl named Stephanie who lives in an apartment complex a few blocks from Brent’s. She put out an ad for a roommate, and I answered it. The rent’s much cheaper, and I can afford to take a course at the same time. So that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Well, I’m proud of you.” Marta nodded in approval. “You’re making strides.”
“I don’t know about making strides,” I said. “But I’m trying my best to stay distracted.”
“Don’t worry so much,” she said comfortingly. “He’ll come around.”
“What if he doesn’t?” I asked.
“Then…you’ll survive and be stronger for it.”
I sighed. “Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Have you tried calling him since you last spoke?”
“Uh…no,” I said, shaking my head.
Marta raised her eyebrows. “Why the hell not?”
“He wanted time…and space,” I pointed out. “That’s the one thing he asked for. How could I just ignore it? And what if he doesn’t want to speak to me at all until he’s made his decision?”
“Then, I’m sure he’ll find a way to let you know,” Marta said firmly. “My point is that you’ve got to keep trying. You’ve got to keep fighting. You need to show him that you’re not going to take him for granted. You’re going to make it really hard for him to leave you.”