Nemesis

by Skye McDonald

  When the good doctor got the message that anger, not guilt, continued to be my coping mechanism, she dropped the gentle tones and serious face, threw her pen in the air, and crossed her legs. “Well, hell, Liv. Why don’t you fight for the cause, then?”

  And with that, I had a new “thing.”

  Tuesday nights became time to volunteer at a women’s shelter. I got involved with Strings for Hope, and I signed up to run a 10K in the spring to raise money and awareness.

  That was the best therapy I could’ve asked for. Having a constructive outlet helped with the anger and also with the frustrations that began to mount as soon as I got home.

  Within a week, Cam was charged with assault. I had to give a statement and press formal charges. The cops made me come in and take a billion photos of my wounds. Every trip to the police station made me queasy with horrific memories, but I’d be damned if that dirtbag got to walk.

  As I recovered, my family’s concern was sweet. After beating the shit out of a grown man, though, it seemed a little absurd that they barely let me feed myself. When I was finally allowed to drive, I went to see Mrs. Harris. Going back to work was all I wanted to do, but no such luck. She gently informed me that my students wouldn’t understand why their teacher looked like an MMA fighter. It wasn’t all bad, though: my job was waiting for me, and my benefits were still in place. Although I ached to return to the routine, I couldn’t argue.

  Life was a roller coaster of doldrums, frustration, and anger for those first weeks. I wanted my old life back. Even the mess with Tom beat this new reality.

  But most of all, I wanted my Will.

  36

  Liv

  The elephant who hung out anytime Tom and I were in a room together didn’t detract from the care he took of me. It took two Saturdays for him to approve of yoga again, and then only under my solemn vow to listen to my body and take it slow. Megan offered to pick me up and treat me to a ladies’ day out. After two weeks of reality TV, I was delirious with excitement to escape the house.

  “Look at you, you fuckin’ warrior.” Meg flashed a bittersweet grin when I opened the door that morning.

  I opened my mouth for a snappy reply and promptly burst into tears.

  Megan was close behind. She threw her arms around me and sobbed. “You are the baddest-ass boss in the world, you know it?”

  “I learned from the master.” I squeezed her tight before we wiped our eyes and went inside. “But can we skip the waterworks from now on, please?”

  She sniffled and sneered. “Definitely. It’s gross and you’re loud.”

  My best friend.

  In the kitchen, I put a homemade protein bar on a paper towel. “What do you think?” I asked while she chewed.

  She wiggled her head in a “Not bad” gesture, and I cut one for myself.

  “Yeah, Luna’s chocolate coconut is better. Whatever, I was bored as hell.”

  Tom and Maddie walked in as we finished eating. Megan squealed when Maddie rushed her for a hug, but her smile slipped when she faced my brother. “Good morning,” she said, frost in her voice.

  “Hey, Megan.” Tom avoided her eyes as he poured coffee and checked on me, but Megan’s death glare followed him until he collected Mads and retreated outside.

  Megan shrugged at my sharp look. “Sorry. I know he’s been through a lot too, but he is totally on my shit list. Come on, we’ll be late.”

  “No way in hell is that the end of this story.” I picked up my mat and followed to her car.

  My inquisitive stare resumed promptly over brunch. Megan ignored me as long as she could but finally spilled.

  “I know Tom’s pissed about you and Will, but his attitude to his supposed best friend at the hospital was disgusting.”

  “What?”

  She scanned my face. “Shit, you’re already pale. I’m—”

  “Starting at the beginning and not stopping till you reach the end. I can handle it.”

  Megs sighed. “Let’s see… I was dancing with Adam when Will showed up.”

  “Wait. At the bar? Why?”

  “For you. Why else? Anyway, you weren’t at the table, so I told him I thought you’d left. Before I could text, blue lights flashed outside and the cops ran in. Then we saw Ben carrying you.” She shuddered. “Will and I raced to catch up. They let him ride in the ambulance when we told them he was family. I drove his Audi to the hospital. That was fun.”

  Her grin was a much-needed break. We both drew a heavy breath before she went on.

  “All of us went to the hospital, of course. Will finally came into the waiting room. He said you’d woken up for a few, but they made him leave so they could, um, pump your stomach.” She blew out another breath. “Sorry, dude, it’s hard to talk about.”

  “I know,” I muttered.

  “I called Tom, but he was already on his way. Will had called him. He came in frantic, but as soon as he saw Will, he iced him like he was a stranger. Wouldn’t let him go see you when the doctors said family could go back, wouldn’t speak directly to him, all that bullshit. Your mom was the one who insisted Will go with them.”

  I put my head in my hands.

  Megs sighed again. “Like I said, I know Tom’s going through it, too. He still shouldn’t have been such a dick. Everyone knows you and Will are in deep-end love.”

  My head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

  Megan stared at me a long moment, then threw her head back and laughed. “Olivia Maria Milani, do not play yourself. Have you really not admitted that you love each other?”

  “He said it once,” I mumbled.

  “And you dropped your panties and said it back, right?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Right, Liv? That hot, hot man declared his love, and you…”

  “It wasn’t like that, okay? And anyway, that was before, and he was nervous because…”

  I took a deep breath against the all-too-familiar sting of tears. Crying was so old hat by then. “I think if we were really in love, I’d know it.”

  She gently gripped my fingers. “You do know it. Babe, it’s all over your face. Do you think Will wants to be away from you right now?”

  “He’s gone, Megs,” I whispered. “Tom and I both sent him away. Why the hell would he still love me?”

  “Liv, I’m pretty sure that when you’re as in love as y’all are, a little distance doesn’t make it stop.”

  “Everything ends. He’ll see what a hot mess I am.”

  Megan’s brows wrinkled. “Hot mess? Hardly. You never were, but now? You’ve gotten all grown up lately. Committed. It looks good on you.”

  “Me? A grownup?” I laid a hand on my heart.

  “I know, right? And I’m sure Will sees it, too. On the other hand, he’s known you through a lot of your life. If he’s seen all your ups and downs and still looks at you like that, he’s in. Question is, are you?”

  I twisted my lips. “I hate it when you’re a sage.”

  She flipped her hair and smirked.

  “He looks at me like what?”

  “He fucking smolders at you. Like this.” Megan flared her eyes, then narrowed them tight in a pretty damn good impersonation before she collapsed in laughter.

  For the first time in ages, I laughed, too.

  Arnica, vitamin C, and sunlight helped heal bruises faster according to the internet. Eager to get back to work, I took walks every day, practically bathed in arnica gel, and ate grapefruit for breakfast. By that Saturday with Megs, I didn’t draw as many double-takes from strangers. After a third week, a strong coat of foundation was all I needed to hide the remaining marks.

  I damn near danced on the ceiling when Mrs. Harris said I could come in on the Monday before Thanksgiving.

  Time still crawled. Friends visited. I played with Maddie. I listened to Jason Isbell a lot. “Cover Me Up” became my new favorite song to shout-sing.

  But the more I healed, the more the chasm between Tom and me grew. The silence was tight, b
ut I could tell we were both more sad than angry anymore.

  Mom held our first family meal in a month the Sunday before Thanksgiving. Thanks to my pleading eyes, we got to eat in the breakfast nook at last. The cozy kitchen chairs did little to ease the weight on everyone, though. Conversation was thin. The usual chitchat and updates were replaced by brief exchanges and forks scraping plates. I wanted so badly to brighten everyone up with stories, but my heart just wasn’t in it. The best I could do was promise to bring whipped potatoes and my famous brownies for Thursday’s meal.

  My phone chimed as Mom cleared dishes. Celeste and Mel wanted me to go to a movie later, so I glanced to confirm the time.

  Will: I just need to know you’re okay.

  I pushed back from the table, stumbled down the hall to my parents’ bed, and curled into a ball.

  “Liv? What’s wrong, love?” The mattress dipped as Mom sat and bundled me into her arms.

  I buried my head in her lap. “Mom, what happened while I was unconscious?”

  She stroked my hair. “I prayed and prayed.”

  “No, tell me the story. Please?”

  “Oh. Well, we got a call from Tom in the middle of the night. I knew something was wrong as soon as the phone rang. We rushed to the hospital and learned what had happened. They’d sedated you. All we could do was pray and wait with everyone else.”

  I looked up. “Who?”

  Mom furrowed her brow. “Let’s see. Benjamin and his fiancée—lovely girl—and Megan, of course… There were quite a few others I didn’t know. Will was there. That was a surprise.”

  I didn’t move. She didn’t say more. “Did you talk to him?” I finally asked.

  “What kind of question is that? Of course I did.”

  “What did he, I don’t know, say? Do?”

  “Do? He did what we all did. He waited. He worried about you. As for what he said, well. I guess he didn’t say anything that wasn’t obvious from the look on his face.”

  She scratched my back. “Why didn’t you tell us, baby?”

  “Didn’t know how,” I mumbled. “It’s a mess now, though.”

  “Oh, messes can be cleaned up. Don’t wallow over that. You saved a child’s life and stopped a monster with your bare hands. You can deal with a little relationship bump. Now, come have some tea.” She pinched me, and I smiled as I let her pull me up.

  Back at the table, I sipped peppermint tea and covertly typed under the table:

  Me: I’m okay, thanks.

  Good god, you’re a douchebag. I stared at my words and knew no reply would come from such a milquetoast sentiment.

  “Is Will back from Chicago in time to join us for Thanksgiving? I’d like to know how much turkey to buy.”

  “I don’t know this year, Mom.” Tom’s voice was flat and hard.

  “I wasn’t asking you, Thomas,” Mom said without hesitation. “Livi?”

  I jerked my attention back to the conversation. Tom stared at his plate, but Mom and Dad both smiled at me.

  “Uh… honestly, I have no idea.”

  “Well, try to find out so I can get my groceries by Tuesday, okay?” Mom winked at me.

  Tom growled in the silence that followed. “Really? We’re all just acting like Liv and Will together is perfectly normal?”

  “What’s not normal about it, son?” Dad asked. “They’re grown people. If they want to be together, well, we know he’s a good man. I’m just glad our girl’s happy and in good hands.”

  Dad smiled at me, and I blushed hard for more than one reason.

  Will’s hands. Damn, I missed that part.

  Dinner ended with hugs and final details for Thursday. I buckled Maddie into the backseat of Tom’s SUV, then jumped in the front as he started the engine.

  “We need to talk,” he said on the drive. “Let’s have a beer at home.”

  Déjà vu tickled my neck. “Okay, Tommy,” I agreed, but I didn’t need to wonder what this was about.

  Maddie settled in with crayons and a show while my brother and I yet again gathered at the table and clinked bottles. Dry since Halloween, I took a long gulp, pleased to know that Jackalope IPA tasted as good as ever. At least some things hadn’t changed.

  Tom put his bottle down and tented his hands on the table. “You go back to work tomorrow, right?”

  I nodded. “Mrs. Harris said the short week would be good to ease me in, to make sure I was ready.”

  “Good.” He blew out a hard breath. “Look, Liv, I told Will to go to Chicago. He didn’t want to leave, but I reminded him that you’d asked for space after our… showdown. I asked that he respect our family’s need to get through this. So, he left.”

  My lips curled into a snarl, but I didn’t speak. Tom dropped his gaze.

  “That was a mistake,” he whispered. “I see how sad you are, how far apart we’ve become. I misjudged how serious you were about him.”

  “How serious I am.”

  “Exactly. No man will ever be good enough for my baby sister, and the idea of you two together freaks me the hell out. But all that said, I’d rather deal with it than tear us apart or break your heart. Our family is everything. Livi, I’m sorry, sis. I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I sent him away when you needed him most.”

  I exhaled. “Thank you, Tommy. I accept your apology, I really do. But it doesn’t mean things are better, does it? Our ‘showdown’ that afternoon came at the worst possible time. Will and I had been fighting about that lawyer’s party—”

  “Party?”

  “What’s her face? Stacy.”

  He shook his head. “Will canceled on that party the morning of. Erin had to listen to Stacy complain all day.”

  No. More. Crying. I swallowed hard. “Um, anyway, there was that, then you. Then my shit went down, and you sent him away. I don’t know if we’re still together or if we can fix this. I don’t even know if he wants to.”

  His shoulders dropped, expression softening. It was the Tom I used to know.

  “Oh, hell, Liv. I can tell you right now he’ll want to fix it. I think Will’s been crazy about you forever.”

  Tom closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, so he missed whatever my face did when my stomach hit the floor.

  “I hated the way you’d give him those wide eyes when you were in high school. You were too young, and he’s got a kind of tough background. It made him really intense and driven.”

  “I know.”

  “Of course you do. Anyway, just when it seemed like you’d grown out of it, one summer you were all Will talked about. I told him to knock it off, that you were too young and couldn’t handle him. He dropped it. I really believed you both couldn’t stand each other after that. I should’ve known you were too much alike to not realize it eventually.”

  “One summer?” I croaked.

  “Mm-hmm. Right after college.”

  “And… you told him… so he…”

  I leaned back and closed my eyes. Everything makes so much sense.

  How would life have been different if we’d connected so long ago? I’d never have become That Girl, never have met my friends through Ben, never have met Megan Riley on a busted Valentine’s date. I’d never have smacked the shit out of Will back then, never ever. Never would’ve dared to go toe-to-toe with him. He wouldn’t have pushed me into CrossFit. We would’ve grown up—likely apart, too.

  I fell out of my chair and stumbled around the table. Tom rose and caught me in a weepy hug. I sobbed and dug my fingers into his shoulders. “Oh god, I hate you so much. Only half as much as I love you, though.”

  “I’m sorry, sis. I only ever wanted to look out for you.”

  Tom and I hugged until things got weird, and then we laughed and pushed each other away. I went upstairs to lie down and let my thoughts wander in the dusky light. As I stared at the ceiling, my body grew heavy, muscles still like in yoga. Only when the room was pitch dark did I reach for my phone.

  Me: When r u done tomorrow?

 
Megs: Last appt @5.

  Me: Book me for 530. Sharpen those scissors.

  Megs: HOLY SHIT.

  It’s time for a change.

  37

  Will

  Chicago was fucking frigid, and it was only November. I didn’t mind. There was absolution in the biting cold. Every morning before work, I ran along the water. The icy wind burned my lungs until I couldn’t bear it and had to turn back. The brutal weather purged me, banished all the warmth I’d become so accustomed to lately.

  Nothing, no miles and no cold, could purge my guilt, though. I would carry that scar for the rest of my selfish fucking life.

  Every day was the same cold, gray weather, same routine. Run, work, bar, work, sleep. Weekends, too, because if I didn’t work, I had nothing, and a man could only drink so much to pass the time. I wouldn’t even let myself look at photos. Memories of our time together were a comfort I didn’t deserve.

  I didn’t hear from her. After the first week of silence, I knew I wouldn’t. By my final Sunday of exile, I broke down and texted. I had to know something, anything.

  “I’m okay, thanks.”

  What the hell, Olivia? What do I do with that?

  Like the giant asshole I was, I did absolutely nothing with it. I didn’t have the nerve to reply. I itched to push her—I always itched to push Liv Milani, since she was the only person I never doubted could take it and give back as good as she got—but this wasn’t like before. She deserved the space, and if cutting me out helped her heal like Tom had said, then so be it. I was raised to be on my own. I told myself I could accept it and carry on as I had all my life.

  I never could lie for shit.

  Our project wrapped right on time. The Tennessee crew was excited to fly out the day before Thanksgiving and get home in time for the holiday. As for me, that offhand non-answer only increased my ambivalence about returning to Nashville. I couldn’t care less about turkey or days off.