by Ivy Wild
“I need you,” I replied. Couldn’t she understand I was freezing? I needed warmth only she could give me.
She curled into me, tucking her head under my chin. Her body pressed against mine, her soft breasts against my cold dead chest. I squeezed her close and closed my eyes, letting silent tears leak onto my pillow.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, her voice reassuring. It echoed against the hole in my chest. “But I can’t give that to you right now,” she said. I didn’t understand what she meant. Give me what? “Besides, it’s not going to take away the pain,” she continued. “You’re just going to have to feel it. It’s the only way through it.”
I nodded my head against hers and heaved a deep sigh. She wiggled free a bit to look up into my eyes. Her hand brushed the side of my face and I closed my eyes at her touch. “You’re going to be okay,” she said.
I so wanted to believe her.
* * *
“Take a drive with me?” she asked the next morning as we sat eating breakfast to a Pastry Week episode.
I’d woken up with her in my arms that morning and for the first time all week, I wasn’t shivering. I felt marginally more lifelike. Not better. I knew I would never feel better. But I at least felt functional enough to shower and put on a different pair of sweatpants.
“Where?” I asked with a full mouth.
She was curled up against me on the couch this morning too. She’d tried putting separation between us when she brought over the oatmeal, but I’d pulled her tight against me and she hadn’t resisted. I needed her heat and she seemed to understand that.
“I want to show you something,” she replied, giving nothing away.
“I’m not sure I’m up for driving,” I admitted.
She twisted her lips. “I could drive if you’d let me.” I never let anyone drive my car and she knew that.
But I wasn’t operating at full capacity today. My Care-O-Meter was running pretty close to zero percent. I shrugged and nodded my head and her eyes widened in surprise. She put her bowl down to give me a squeeze and the slightest of smiles pinched my lips. It hurt.
She refused to give any further details about where we were going and I didn’t have the energy to conduct an interrogation. So, we finished our oatmeal to Paul Hollywood criticizing someone’s “layers,” whatever the fuck that meant, and made our way to the garage.
“Do you even have your license?” I asked as I climbed into the passenger seat. The red leather interior hugged my form and it felt entirely odd sitting on this side of the car.
She scoffed. “Of course I do.”
“I’ve never seen you drive,” I pointed out as she proceeded to mess with every single setting possible on the driver seat. The side mirrors, the rear view mirror, the seat height, placement, you name it, she adjusted it.
“That’s because I don’t have a car,” she pointed out.
“Your mom doesn’t have a car?” I asked, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.
She paused at the question before finally responding with a short, “No.”
Fuck, I’d accidentally touched a nerve. I kept forgetting that just because Skyler lived in this neighborhood and went to the same school as me didn’t mean she had the same luxuries as me.
I’d still trade my life for hers in a heartbeat.
She still had a mother.
One who loved her.
I had a hole in my chest.
She backed the car out of the garage slowly and I didn’t open my eyes for the ten minute drive. She could have driven us both off a cliff and I wouldn’t have noticed—or cared. Well, maybe that’s not entirely true. I would have been marginally bothered if she didn’t at least put “Free Fallin’” by Tom Petty on.
“We’re here,” she said, pulling me out of my deranged thoughts about what it would feel like to fall off a cliff.
I blinked my eyes open and realized she’d driven us to the school parking lot again. She was persistent. “Sky,” I said, scrunching my face slightly. “The school? Really?”
She blew a piece of white hair out of her face and fixed her lavender eyes on me. “Stop fussing and just come on,” she said. It almost felt like we were back to our old ways again. Too bad it only cost me the only thing I loved in the world.
I sighed, grabbed my Ray Ban Justin’s out of the glove compartment (because I wasn’t so basic as to be caught in Wayfarers) and climbed out of the car begrudgingly. She rounded the back, tucking the key into the small pocket of her jeans and grabbed my hand tightly.
Even just that simple gesture had me feeling like maybe, just maybe, I could keep going. I took one step, then another, until I was walking slightly behind her as she led me through a dense line of trees away from the school.
“I found this place when I was looking for a place to eat my lunch one day,” she explained, as if roaming around in the underbrush was a total natural thing to do when hunting for a lunch spot.
“You do realize most people eat in the cafeteria?”
She turned and rolled her eyes at me. “I’m not most people.”
The corners of my lips twitched and I shook my head to stop the laugh that wanted to break free. It didn’t feel right to be laughing with my mother sitting on the windowsill of her library the way she was.
It was March, so the weather was still pretty cold, but some of the trees were starting to sprout and the overall sight was fairly calming. I could hear running water from somewhere nearby and my suspicions were confirmed when we stepped out of the denser trees and into a small clearing.
An old wooden bridge straddling the smallest of brooks was stretched out before us. The structure looked absolutely decrepit, with most of the planks splintered and falling apart. Leave it to Skyler to find something so damaged and find the beauty in it.
Of course she ran out onto it like it was the Governor Cuomo Bridge. Problem was, it looked about as structurally sound as the Tappanzee.
“Sky, babe, maybe not run out onto the very old, very dangerous looking pile of splinters?”
Did I really just call her babe?
The thought passed through my head, but I shook it off. The good thing was she didn’t seem to notice.
She reached her hand out for me and beckoned me forward. “Since when did you care about your personal safety?” she asked with a small laugh.
I shrugged. She was right. I didn’t. Maybe it would all come crashing down. It was a nice thought. I made my way over to her, picking up splinters of dried wood with each step.
She sat down and let her legs hang over the edge as she rested her arms against one of the bannister railings. I was surprised it seemed to hold her weight, but maybe the old thing wasn’t as fragile as I’d initially thought. I sat down next to her and looked out over the brook that ran underneath us. A hawk soared in the distance and someone’s forgotten disposable coffee cup made its way slowly downstream. Tree roots stretched out into the water and smooth rocks, worn down by the water’s bullshit, dotted the landscape.
“So, why’d you want to bring me here?” I asked her, turning to the side slightly to look at her.
She smiled sadly, not looking at me but continuing to look out over the brook as it babbled on. “I just wanted to show you this place. It’s really special to me. I come here almost every day,” she admitted. “I guess I thought you’d appreciate it.”
I made a face, but she kept going.
“This bridge sort of reminds me of each of us. We’re splintered, fractured and broken. Life’s thrown a ton at us and really worn us down. But, we’re still here. We’re still standing.”
“Touching,” I said, a little mockery in my tone.
But Skyler knew me. She knew that I was being defensive because she was right. She was the only one that could see through my façade. I tried so desperately to put layer after layer of new paint on my worn edges, but I was still the same splintered man underneath.
She turned to look at me and she put her hand on mine.
“I like this bridge. Just the way it is. I wouldn’t change a thing about it. Does that make sense?”
I looked at her, really looked into her eyes at that moment. She looked so sad in so many ways. She put on an act too.
The shy girl.
The good girl.
She was neither, but being her true self around people was likely too hard.
“Then why’d you leave?” I asked her.
She shook her head, furrowing her light brows in confusion. “Huh?”
“The night of the party.”
“Oh,” she said. Her hand pulled back and she touched it to her lips briefly.
“You were drunk,” she finally said behind her hand, her eyes dropping to look down between us. But I wanted her to look at me when she gave me her real answer.
I reached out, lifting her chin with my fingers so she was forced to look into my eyes. “Tell me the truth, Sky. Show me your splinters and trust that I’ll like them.”
Her eyes closed and she sighed. “Because it was my first kiss.”
I dropped my hand, stunned at her confession. “Your first, really?”
She nodded her head, opening her eyes back up and meeting my gaze. I felt like an absolute dick. I remembered my behavior that night. I was drunk. I was high. I probably still had another girl’s lipstick on my face when I’d kissed her.
Fuck.
Guilt.
My fingers pressed against her pale lips softly. “And have you . . . since then . . . ” I wasn’t sure what I was trying to ask her. There was something inside of me that liked the idea that I was her first and maybe only and wanted to keep it that way. There was something deep inside me that wanted her to be mine.
She shook her head and I smiled. I actually fucking smiled at the fact that I’d stolen her first kiss in the most horrible of ways and that she hadn’t kissed anyone else since. What the fuck was wrong with me?
“Could I get a redo?” I asked the question, but I wasn’t going to wait for an answer. My hand was already on her neck, pulling her into me as my lips moved to try and press against hers. But, at the last moment, her head turned and I found myself kissing the smooth pale skin of her cheek. “Sky,” I said in a slightly irritated voice.
“It’s not the right time for us, Si,” she said as if that was supposed to make some sort of sense. “You’re grieving. I’m not going to let something like this happen now. If I did, we’d regret it.”
“I disagree,” I said. I so wanted to kiss her. I wanted to make right what I’d done wrong and I also wanted to give her a kiss that would keep her away from other guys and firmly by my side.
“My mother told me the fiercer the hate, the deeper the love,” she said softly. “I didn’t understand what she meant at the time, but I think I do now.” Her tone was sad and I knew it didn’t bode well for me. She turned back to look at me and my fingers didn’t leave her neck. I wasn’t done trying. “I love you, Silas. I’m convinced of that now. And that’s why I can’t kiss you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Why did women have to be so goddamn confusing? “That makes zero sense, Skyler,” I said. I probably should have told her I loved her, instead. My response was actually a pretty shitty thing to say to someone when they admitted they loved you. I probably would have done better with a “thank you.”
“Kissing you right now would be wrong, Silas,” she said.
I opened my eyes and met her gaze. “There’s no such thing as a wrong decision, remember? Everything is predetermined. So everything you choose is inherently the right choice the moment you do it.”
“I never agreed to your logic,” she said.
“Maybe just try it on for size?”
She smiled and curled her body into mine. There was nothing I could do but wrap my arms around her. “Maybe one day we’ll get our chance,” she said softly.
“Good thing we live so close,” I said, not sure what else to say.
She pressed into my form further and I squeezed her tighter. “I applied to a college, Silas, and I got accepted. Scholarship and everything.”
A breeze blew through the hole in my chest at that very moment. “That’s great,” I forced myself to say. “What school?”
“Hofstra,” she said. “It’s in New York.”
“Oh.” I clenched my eyes shut. A week ago I had two people in my life I considered important. Both of whom I loved, but only one of whom I knew I loved. Now, sitting on the bridge, holding Skyler in my arms, I realized I loved her, that I wanted her to be mine, and that she was also leaving me.
“There’s commuter buses that go from here to NYC all the time,” she said. “We can still visit. Plus, we have the rest of the year and the whole summer.”
“Right,” I said, but everything felt so wrong.
* * *
Present
“Honestly Bob, can’t you just make this go away? I thought you had friends at the IRS?” I was beyond frustrated with the way this week was going. I’d left Skyler hot and bothered for me after her little too-welcoming party on Friday. A whole fucking week had dragged on where I hadn’t seen her, very much on purpose, thinking that she would make the first move to contact me.
Of course, nothing.
She was as frigid as ever.
I don’t know why I thought I was going to be able to win a Cold War against her. It hadn’t worked in High School and it sure as hell wasn’t working now.
What was worse was that I was irritated, flustered and being 20% more of a dick to everyone than usual because of it. Only two things were keeping me sane: the first being that she hadn’t had her stupid boy toy over again and the second that she seemed to be just as bothered by the situation as I was.
I could tell because her emails were short, to the point and overly professional.
Exhibit A:
To: Skyler Jackson
From: Silas Jenkins
Subject: To do
Call the investors with the Centuria Group and schedule a conference call for 3pm on Monday.
* * *
To: Silas Jenkins
From: Skyler Jackson
Subject: Re: To do
Dear Mr. Jenkins,
I understand your request and will ensure that the call is scheduled per your instructions. A hold will be placed on your calendar with the dial-in information. If I can be of any further assistance, please do not hesitate to let me know.
Kind Regards,
Skyler Jackson
Personal Assistant to Silas Jenkins
I almost wrote back with explicit instructions of how she could be “of further assistance.” I could especially use her assistance with her kneeling on the floor, definitely with her back pressed against a wall, and most certainly flipped over the edge of a desk.
“This isn’t really a ‘friends at the IRS’ situation, Silas,” Bob said, pulling me out of my rather lewd but enjoyable line of thinking.
It was a Friday afternoon and I found myself back at his office, staring out at DuPont Circle, wishing I was anywhere but with my accountant.
“You’ve got an interview with one of their special agents in their fraud department set for Monday. This is serious, Silas. Please give it the requisite attention.”
I let out an audible sigh that turned into a bit of a growl at the end. My patience was cracking and it surprised me more than it surprised Bob. The stunned look on his face at what, for me constituted a legitimate outburst, almost had me walking out of his office. But he did have a point. This wasn’t like any other audit I’d undergone and I seriously did not like the sound of “fraud,” “special agent,” or the inevitable charges that usually followed.
“Fine,” I said, turning to fix my dark brown eyes on him. “Email me everything you know about the case and try and find out who the agent might be.”
“Don’t you think you should hire yourself a lawyer?” Bob asked.
I gave him an exasperated look. “I am a lawyer.”
“I mean a real lawyer.
You know, one who practices law.”
“Hard pass,” I said, standing up and brushing the conversation off my Armani trousers. I’d had enough of lawyers for one lifetime, present company excluded. I found them to be pumped full of more hot air than even myself. And I’d learned from a young age that no one was going to care about your shit more than you did.
“I know better than to argue with you,” Bob said, sounding defeated.
“Now you’re learning.”
“I’ll send you what I’ve got and see what I can find out.”
I nodded curtly and blew out of his office. I didn’t need to say thank you. Bob knew by now that the only thanks he was going to get from me was his monthly retainer check. In my eyes, that was more than enough.
I made my way outside into the drudgery that was a D.C. winter. Gray skies blended with gray buildings blended with gray slush on the sides of the roads. People kept their heads down and their mouths shut as they walked briskly to their destinations, trying very hard to pretend that no one in the world existed.
It was pretty much my favorite time of the year as a result.
I flipped over my watch and debated what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. My phone started to ping with email after email from Bob. He apparently wasn’t wasting any time in sending me all the materials on the case. I scrolled through the myriad of emails and groaned.
And then smiled.
This gave me the perfect excuse to peer over the edge of the Berlin Wall that was the road between our condos. I raised a hand to hail a cab and made my way towards the Iron Curtain.
The entire week Silas had been silent. He’d blown out of my apartment, his fingers still coated in my intense need for him, and then proceeded to completely ghost me for the rest of the week. Sure, he’d sent me the work assignment here or there, but no phone calls, no visits, no nothing.
I suppose I should have been grateful. Not many people were being paid what I was for how little I had to do. Even still, after that first “test” he’d sprung on me with the visit to the courthouse, I made sure that every day I was dressed and ready to leave my place on a moment’s notice during normal working hours.