Leah instinctively reached for Marcus’ hand, wanting to comfort him. He clutched hers in response and it felt so odd to hold another man’s hand, but it felt good too. She had felt so alone for so long. It was nice to have the comfort of another, but Marcus was her boss. Comfort from him was not appropriate. He gazed at her with those dark, penetrating, knowing brown eyes. She released his hand abruptly and broke eye contact as she tried to focus on her dessert and not the memory of his hand holding hers.
Marcus finished his glass of wine and ordered another. Leah frowned, but she continued to eat her dessert.
“It’s my turn again. Tell me about your fiancé. I want to know about this man who won your heart.”
He learned from the last time. He went from a simple yes or no question to one very open-ended question. As tempted as she was to give him another simple answer, she felt like she owed him more after he revealed so much to her about his tragic football memory.
She took a deep breath and met Marcus’ curious eyes. “His name is Alex. I know this may be hard to believe, but we first fell in love when I was three and he was four. Everyone thought we were crazy and that it was a passing phase, but we’ve been together ever since that time. We even had a fake wedding when I turned ten. We thought since we had both reached double digits we were old enough for a real commitment.”
She put on her fancy pink dress that she’d worn for her parents’ New Year’s Eve party. Alex didn’t have dress clothes, but he wore his best blue jeans and white polo shirt.
They decided to get married in Tristan’s tree house. No one would look for them there. It was a Saturday afternoon and her parents were playing tennis with some of her father’s colleagues. Tristan had gone along with them to have a play date with the other couple’s son. Leah had not been invited, which pleased her greatly. She would have the whole afternoon with Alex. As long as she stayed out of trouble, her nanny wouldn’t pay an ounce of attention to her.
They climbed into the tree house, which Leah had decorated with some streamers she’d made in her arts and crafts class. Alex pulled out a crushed red rose from his pocket that he picked from her mother’s garden. Although the petals were mostly ruined, Leah happily accepted the rose. To this day, she kept the rose in her journal. Stiff and crushed, it still lived on with the faintest of smells, but it held one of her most precious memories.
That day in the tree house, they promised to take care of each other forever. To be each other’s best friend always. Then Alex kissed her on the cheek and they went to the park a few blocks away and spent the afternoon playing on the swings and pushing each other down the winding slide. It was the most perfect day. The best day of her life. Ever since that day, she had always felt like Alex’s wife.
“I’ve never dated anyone else,” Leah explained to Marcus. She wished she could say the same for Alex, but she doubted his fidelity. Faithfulness was not a value of an addict desperate for a high. “Alex is everything to me. We’ve gone through a lot of difficult times but at the end of the day, we always find our way through the mess together. He’s my life.” And he would also one day likely be her death.
“Wow. For once I am speechless. I can’t imagine being with one person for so long.” He took another sip of his fresh glass of wine. “I mean, how do you know he’s the right one for you if you’ve never tasted the pleasures of another? Aren’t you curious about other guys? Do you ever wonder if he’s truly your destiny? Maybe you have just conceded in your mind that he’s the one because you have no other experience, but perhaps there is someone better out there for you.”
Leah narrowed her eyes at him and fought to restrain her growing anger. She knew he meant well and his words were no different than what others had said in the past, but none of them could understand her relationship with Alex. Everyone judged, but knew absolutely nothing of the bond between them.
Leah was done with the subject of Alex. It felt like a betrayal to even discuss him with Marcus. “You asked your question, I answered it. It’s my turn again.” Except that she did not have any more questions for him. She didn’t want to play this game anymore. She just wanted to go home. “Maybe we can resume this Q&A another time. I’m exhausted and I want to go home.”
“Look Leah, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” she lied, “but it’s been a long day and an even longer week. My bed is calling my name.”
“Okay. Raincheck, then.” Marcus requested the bill. She took out her wallet but he refused to accept her money. “This one is on me.”
She didn’t want him to pay. That would turn this dinner into something more than she wanted it to be. “I would like to pay for my portion.”
“Leah, this is a business dinner. I invited you so I pay and expense it later. You can pay next time if you like.”
He brashly assumed there would be a next time. She would rather avoid a repeat of this dinner. She didn’t have a bad time, but she felt uncomfortable the whole night. It would probably be best if this was the last dinner with Marcus. Lunch seemed safer. Dinner was too intimate, too personal.
He escorted her outside and she headed towards the subway station. “Let’s share a cab,” he suggested.
A cab to Queens was more than she could afford even if shared. “Thanks, but the subway is fine.”
“Leah, it’s late and I would feel much better if you were in a cab. I don’t need to worry that something might happen to you late at night on the train. Besides, it’s on the way to my house in Great Neck. Stop wasting time arguing with me and get into the cab with me. I can’t believe I ever thought you were meek. You definitely have a fiery side to your personality. I like it. You should bring it out more. That passion will get you places.”
Right now the only place Leah wanted to be was home. He was such a stubborn pain. Arguing with him was pointless. She conceded and got into the cab. She begrudgingly admitted to herself that it was a much shorter ride than the subway. She was home in twenty minutes, half the time it would have taken on the train at this time of night.
She took out her wallet and he just glared at her. Clearly sharing a cab did not mean sharing the cost. She didn’t want another money argument with him. She really was exhausted. She put her wallet away.
“Thank—” Before she could finish her words, Marcus had exited the cab and was telling the driver to wait. “What are you doing?”
“I’m walking you to your door.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Maybe not Leah, but I was trained to have manners and men are supposed to escort women to their doors and not drop them off on a street corner in the middle of the night. Humor me and let me do this.”
She couldn’t wait for this night to be over. She really just wanted to be alone now. She huffed but didn’t argue with him. He wouldn’t listen anyhow. She marched towards her building, not looking back at Marcus, who was determined to follow her. “We have to take the stairs. The elevator is out of order again.” It was only five floors, but she wondered if Marcus would turn back now. She should have known the stubborn man would be undaunted by a broken elevator. He followed her up the stairs and to her door.
She put the key in and opened the door. “Well, thanks Marcus. I appreciate dinner and the cab ride home.”
“You’re welcome, Leah.”
This was awkward. They stood there staring at each other not knowing what to say or if anything should be said. Finally, Leah turned to go inside.
“Leah!” Marcus called out to her. “I’m sorry if I upset you tonight. I should have kept my mouth shut, but sometimes I open it and the dam flows out before I can close it.”
“It’s okay. I think I opened up a painful wound for you as well. I hope I didn’t upset you too much.”
“Not at all. It felt good to talk about it. I haven’t in so long, but it’s not something I could ever forget. The memory still haunts me. Thanks for listening to me.”
“She’s a great listener” a familiar
voice spoke behind her. Leah dropped her bag. The contents spilling in the hall as she turned to see Alex standing behind her. “My Leah is great at everything.” He reached out to shake Marcus’ hand. “I’m Alex, Leah’s fiancé.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Marcus. Leah works for me at the Gazette.”
“Nice to meet you as well.” Alex bent down and picked up the contents of her bag. Marcus helped him as she stood there like a statue. She couldn’t move. Her brain was jumbled as she tried to make sense of what was happening around her.
How could Alex be here? He can’t be here. He had only been gone for two weeks. He had two more to go. Did they let him out for a brief visit before goes back? Why didn’t he call to tell me he was coming?
“Well, I should be going,” Marcus acknowledged. He looked at Leah oddly, but then said good night and left her standing in her doorway, staring into Alex’s eyes.
“Come inside, Leah,” he implored, but she couldn’t move. Her whole body was numb.
“W-what are you doing here Alex?” She finally found her voice.
“Last time I checked, I live here. Have you thrown me out?” he joked, but there was uncertainty in his eyes.
“Of course not, but you’re not supposed to be here, Alex.”
“This is exactly where I am supposed to be.” Alex put her bag down and lifted her in his arms. “It’s okay, Leah. I’m okay. I just needed to come home. I just needed to be home with you. I’m better now. You’ll see.”
Could he really be better after two weeks? Could two weeks of rehab undo years of addiction?
Chapter 4: Love and Lies
Leah wanted so desperately to believe he was better, but there was something false in his story. She could see the lie in his eyes.
He was exasperated with her questions, but she couldn’t stop asking until he started telling the truth.
“Alex, the program was for thirty days, not fourteen. You don’t get paroled for good behavior in rehab. Tell me the truth. Why did you leave?”
Alex paced in front of her as she sat impatiently on the couch waiting for an answer part of her didn’t want to hear.
“I didn’t need thirty days, Leah. Once I detoxed, I felt so much better. I felt clean again. I didn’t even need the methadone. I felt like my old self. I went to some meetings and listened to everyone’s sob story and I realized that I’m not that bad off. I have you and that’s all I need. I’m clean. I’m better.”
But for how long? She wondered. As if he read her mind, he responded, “I’m clean for good. Trust me, Leah. I need you to believe in me, otherwise I will fail.”
She wanted to believe in him, in them, but there was this nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that Alex’s war with addiction was far from over.
He sat down next to her and placed her hand in his. All those feelings of missing him flooded her. Work had been a distraction, but it could never replace the pleasure of being with him again. It couldn’t heal the loneliness of the nights without him.
Alex might be deeply flawed, but she knew she must be as well for loving him so much and needing him so much. She looked at their interlaced hands. As pathetic as the two of them might be, she wouldn’t want a life without him. She wouldn’t know how to live without him. He was her constant. He provided love when all her family could offer was indifference. He gave her warmth when everyone else left her cold. He offered her shelter from her parents’ desolation. He accepted her heart and she welcomed him.
He had to beat this disease so that they could have the life they dreamed of as children desperate to escape the emptiness of their childhoods. So her heart convinced her mind to believe the story she knew couldn’t be true. She would play along. She would deceive herself hoping that Alex’s lie would one day be a truth. Denial. Her new addiction.
“I’m glad you’re home.” His eyes lit up and she couldn’t help but be pleased to see him smile, really smile. He hadn’t done that in so long. She took a moment to really see him and she couldn’t deny he looked remarkably better. He still needed to gain back the weight he lost, but his color had improved and his azure eyes were more vivid than ever. He was so handsome—her beautifully flawed soulmate.
“I’m glad you’re glad. After what happened before I left, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you had tossed me out on my ass. I deserve it. I hope I didn’t cost you your job.”
“Nope. I still work at the restaurant part-time, but the paper has been so busy that I’ve had to reduce my hours.” The truth was that she reduced her hours as she was too embarrassed to face everyone after Alex’s outburst.
His eyes darkened as if he was bothered by something she said.
“You and your boss are quite friendly, I see?”
Jealousy. Alex had quite the jealous streak. So did she. Another flaw they had in common—mutual possessiveness of one another.
“Marcus is a good boss. He has been helping me and giving me a chance to really be creative and explore my ideas. I’m really lucky to work for him.”
“I bet he’s really lucky to have you.”
That might have been a complement but the bitter undertone in his words detracted from the kindness of the words. “Alex, he’s just my boss.”
“What kind of stories are you working on for him?”
She had never mentioned the details of her work to Alex and for the first time she started to wonder how he might react to the subject matter of her articles.
No point in hiding the truth. “I am working on a blog that focuses on drug use among teenagers and college kids.”
Alex stood up and walked towards the window. His favorite spot, especially when he was battling his own thoughts.
“You’re writing about me?” he asked.
“No, at least not specifically.” But yes, as he was her muse. “Addiction has played a major role in my life as well. Your addiction is also mine in many ways. Writing about this is my way of confronting this problem and doing something about it, when I otherwise feel completely powerless against it. It’s a way for me to heal and to help others in the process. I hope you understand I am not doing this to hurt you. I’m doing it because I need to.”
“Does Marcus know about me? Does he know that you’re in love with a junkie? That you write stories about your junkie boyfriend?”
“You’re my ex-junkie boyfriend,” she joked, but Alex was too serious to appreciate the humor. She walked over to the window and stood next to him. “Alex. Marcus is just my boss. I have never mentioned your issues with him. It’s none of his business. Like I said, I am not exactly writing about you. It’s just this is what I know. This is what’s real for me and this is what I need to write about. Please understand. I’m battling this to. Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?”
They had never spoken about this before, and maybe they should have. They had always been so caught up in what was happening to him that she wondered if he knew the depths of the hurt his addiction had caused her.
“I’m sorry I did this to us,” he muttered. “I’m sorry I brought this hell into our lives.”
He looked deflated. Only moments ago his blue eyes were glimmering with hope and now they had dulled with defeat. Leah wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his back trying to give him every ounce of strength she had. “It wasn’t your fault, Alex.”
Why did this demon of addiction come into our lives? Alex didn’t ask for this. She wished she could strangle the woman who brought this curse into their lives.
“If I saw her, I would kill her,” Leah threatened. She was not one for violence but there was one woman she would love to have a chance to unleash all of her rage on in a fury of blows.
“She’s already dead, Leah. Not physically, but mentally she’s been gone for years.”
Rebecca Briggs still lived on in their lives. They couldn’t escape her. As Alex’s biological mother, she left an indelible mark on her son’s life.
She should never have
been allowed to raise a child. She was a worthless drug addict who got pregnant while hooked on every drug she could get her hands on. Alex was born two months early and nearly died from withdrawal several times the first few weeks of his premature life, but he survived—only to be sent home with his addict mother and his abusive father.
Someone should have saved him from that hell, but everyone turned their backs on the trailer trash Rebecca and her doomed child—including his father, who left one day to go to the liquor store and never returned, leaving a helpless child in the hands of a junkie.
Alex rarely spoke about those years with his mother, but sometimes in the night when he couldn’t sleep, he would recall a memory that refused to be forgotten. He would share bits and pieces of the tragedy that was his childhood controlled by a woman who surrendered her soul to drugs and sentenced her only child to a similar fate.
During one sleepless night when Alex was fourteen, he told Leah the story of the first time he tried heroin. He had only been three years old. His mother had been his dealer.
My mother would drag me with her to see her dealers. She would sometimes leave me alone outside on the stoop while she disappeared for hours. This one day, I decided I would entertain myself. I would climb a tree near the apartment building where my mom would often go to meet her pimp. It was much too high for me and I knew she would be angry, but it didn’t matter. Her anger was better than her indifference.
For the Love of Alex Page 7