by M. R. Joseph
As they handcuffed Chad to bring him to jail, he called out to me and said, "Harlow, I’m so sorry. For everything." Forgive yes, forget never.
***
This is the last time I'll ever be in Dr. Goldberg's office. It's odd but I’m ready to move on, feeling as though this is some sort of a graduation.
"Are you packed and ready?"
I nod and smile to him, my lips closed, but I manage to lift the corners of my mouth.
"And how are you feeling about the whole thing? The start of a new life."
"I feel good about it. I consider it the next chapter. I’m looking forward to some new scenery and culture. It'll be great.”
Even though I normally tell Dr. Goldberg the truth, I can’t help recite the words I have used so many times. It’s what everyone needs to hear.
Dr. Goldberg scribbles down words.
When he's done, he eases back in his chair, holding the tip of the pen in his mouth.
"And things with Daniel? Good? Getting to know more about each other?"
"Oh, yes. I mean I see him mostly at school and on weekends. I’ve been busy taking care of things here, you know, getting things in order, so there hasn't been any time to really spend together. Henry was sick with a bad case of bronchitis and strep throat, so I wasn't able to visit them for about a week."
"So has your time been a bit diminished over the last month or so? You know, because of things having to be taken care of?"
"I guess you could say that. We talk every day though. We have dinner with my family on Sundays. They like Daniel and Henry."
"Is your family still a bit apprehensive about the move?"
"They are, but I’m an adult, and I know they want what’s best for me, but they also need to understand I have to do this for myself. I need a fresh start."
The room grows quiet. Dr. Goldberg scribbles in my damn chart again and it's annoying me.
"Harlow, let me ask you, have you heard from Cruz? Do you know of his whereabouts?"
Cruz.
“Cruz is gone. No one has heard from him. No one has seen him. I talked to Bella, which you knew, only that one time. He doesn't want to be found, Dr. Goldberg. That he has made clear."
"Did you want to find him? Is that why you called Bella?"
"No! Dr. Goldberg, I gave him no reason to stay. I couldn't make up my damn mind, he walked away, I let him and that's the end of it!" My words come out like fire and I feel so bad for exploding like that as he's been so kind to me. I can't help it.
"I’m sorry, Dr. Goldberg. I’m so sorry I spoke to you in that tone. It's just that I’m constantly being questioned for my actions. I did and said what I did because they were my reasons, my decisions. It's my life. My family, my friends, they are all so taken back by this sudden move and I can't seem to convince them as to why, but I just know it's the right thing to do."
Dr. Goldberg leans into his desk, clasping his hands together, and resting them on the desk.
"How do you know it's the right thing to do? Is it your head telling you or is it your heart? Is it the allure of moving and starting a new life with Daniel and Henry that makes you think it's the right thing to do, or is it because you feel there are no other choices?"
"I have choices."
"We always have choices, Harlow, but the question is, do we make the right choices for the right reasons? No human is perfect and no human is without mistakes. It's okay to make mistakes, it's okay to accept them and move past them. Everybody makes mistakes and everyone has their reasons for making them."
Dr. Goldberg gets up from his large leather chair, from his large mahogany desk that smells like lemon furniture polish, and sits in the chair next to mine.
"People make mistakes. They lie, they cheat, they steal. They have their reasons, their justifications for their behavior. What you need to think about is why those mistakes were made and if the person who made them had a valid reason for in fact making them. What brought them to their choice? What made them do what they did?" He pats my hand and smiles at me in a fatherly way.
"Harlow, I believe in clean slates, and I believe in taking chances. I believe we all have a sole purpose on this earth. To love and to be loved, no matter what. But I’m a firm believer in reality and what makes us truly happy. What fills our hearts and minds with wonder, love, and passion? What fuels us to be the people we were meant to be? Love is that answer, Harlow, and everyone should be so blessed to have it and to have had it. But the question at hand is, do you love Daniel?”
I'll miss Dr. Goldberg.
***
I’m trying to pack my winter clothes to have them shipped to England. The weather is getting warmer here and there's no need for them. I leave next week. My phone is ringing. It's Daniel.
"Hi."
"Hello, beautiful girl. How's the packing?"
I blow a stray hair away from my face.
"Oh, fine. Almost done with my winter stuff. I’m bringing it Monday to have it shipped."
"Excellent. Willow and Thea coming over for a girl’s night tonight?"
"Ah, hmm. Yeah, I guess."
"What's wrong, darling? You okay? You seem a bit distant lately. Is it that you're busy preparing?”
Even though we are intimate on occasion, sometimes I don’t feel like I’m one hundred percent present. Like in the moment. I feel like an outsider looking in. I can’t explain it. I just know I feel like sometimes I’m watching a movie - I’m watching something happening to someone else.
"Yes, that's it. I’m sorry. I’m just trying to get everything ready and trying to spend time with my family as much as I can."
"I understand, love. Well, listen. I'll let you get back to it. Have a nice time with the girls."
"Thanks. Listen, I have to go. Someone’s knocking at my door. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Okay. Till then."
I’m sure it's Willow at my door. She's early. Why didn’t she just let herself in? I put the last of my sweaters in the box and stick it in the living room with the rest of them. I’m sweating and in need of a shower. Twisting the knob, I open the door and there stands Cruz.
"What the hell are you doing here?" His striking blue eyes meet mine. I turn away quickly.
He makes his way inside, not waiting for me to invite him in. I stand with my back against the door, not shutting it. Why should I? I’m going to kick him out any second now. I’m angry and I want to know why he’s here. Why?
"Why are you here, Cruz?"
He looks at all the boxes, surveys them, touching each one labeled winter and fall. He looks up at my bare walls, which once held pictures of my friends and family.
"Going somewhere?"
I cross my arms in protest.
"That's really none of your business. You can't waltz in here after four months and ask me questions."
He stalks over to me, picks me up by my upper arms and with his strength, moves me to the side of the open door. He slams it shut and locks it.
"Tell me where you're going." I reach for the handle to unlock the door and he grabs my hand. Forcefully, he brings it above my head and against the wall.
"I’m not telling you. Leave my home immediately."
"Not until you tell me what’s with all the boxes. Spring cleaning maybe, Turnip?"
"Don't call me that," I say glaring at him.
"Why not? That's your name."
"Not anymore. Now leave me alone." He grabs my left hand and brings it up to meet the right. My chest is rising and falling and I feel a fire growing in my belly. He brings his body closer to mine.
He leans in my ear and whispers, "Tell. Me." I feel his hot breath on my neck spreading over my skin.
I swallow hard. "Eng...England." He moves his head to my other ear.
"I hear it's a beautiful country. Why are you going there?" My neck falls back slightly, bending my chin upward, and I shut my eyes. I can hardly speak. It's been forever since I’ve heard his voice or felt his touch on my skin. Their touches are
so different - Cruz and Daniel’s. With Daniel’s it’s new and exciting. With Cruz, it’s new, exciting, familiar, and oh God, his lips on my flesh.
"I...I’m going...with...with Daniel." I feel his hot lips on my neck trailing tiny kisses from the lobe of my ear to my shoulder blade.
“With Daniel. I see...I see.... Can I ask you a question?"
Oh, God whatever he's doing is driving me crazy. Why? Oh, why does he make me feel this way?
"Y-yes."
"Do you love him? Do you love Daniel?"
My head rolls to the side, exposing more of my neck. Goose bumps cover my flesh from the feel of his mouth on my skin, which burns with every feather-light kiss.
"Why, Cruz?" My voice is hushed. "What does it matter?
His eyes find mine and he stops his assault on my skin with his lips and softly grabs my chin so that my eyes are just as focused on his as his are on mine.
"It matters to me because I love you. I love you so much that for the last four months when I thought I was breathing, I wasn't. When I thought you weren't there in my thoughts, you were. You were inside me. Always there. Always inside." He brings my hand down and places it over his heart and it rests there with his head hanging down.
I here him choke back a sob and he raises his head and I see the tears filling his eyes.
"I don't want to live another day apart from you. I thought I could, but I can't. Please just say that you'll forgive me for lying to you about my family. Tell me you don't love him. Tell me you love me. Me."
I can't look at him. My heart will break and I won't do it again to myself.
"I do forgive you, Cruz. I understand why you did what you did. I’m sorry you felt as though you couldn't tell me the truth. It doesn't change the fact that I’m leaving in a week and starting a new life.”
God, it’s not easy for me to say these things to him, but yet I want him to react more to my words. Why isn’t he reacting the way I thought he would?
"With Daniel and his son."
"Yes, with Daniel and his son."
He let's go of my hands and when he does, he blinks, and his tears fall down his face.
He wipes at them immediately and backs away from me.
"And you'll be happy? You'll be happy with him and his little boy? You'll be a mom to his son and that will make you feel complete?"
"That's not the only reason, Cruz."
"Then what is? ’Cause you love him? Tell me, Harlow. I want you to say the words.”
I walk away into my living room.
"Cruz, I’m not discussing this with you. You should go." I point to the door but he's not having any of it.
He walks over to me, the sound of his heavy feet hitting every inch of wood flooring. He picks me up by my ass and holds my back. He licks my neck as I struggle to get out of his hold. He grabs the back of my head and forces his lips to mine. Dueling begins, tongue against tongue. I try and find my sweet spot to rub against his growing erection. I find my rhythm and we are nothing more than tangled hands and tongues. I ride his dick with just two barriers of clothing between us. I can't dull this ache. I can't stop myself from falling over and over again. This attraction is overwhelming and I need to feel him - all of him. This may be the last time I ever feel his lips on mine, feel his skin on my skin, and get to revel in his touch. I’m desperate for him. At this moment, I throw caution to the wind and tell him what I feel. My body reacts to him so much and I have lost all sense of control.
I breathe against his hot mouth. "Fuck me, Cruz. Please, I’m begging you. Please just fuck me."
He undoes the drawstring of my sweat shorts and slides the material past my ass as I link my hands together keeping a firm grasp on the back of his neck. I watch him watch me. His eyes are pools of blue, but turn dark as night with his lust for me and what he's about to give me. He undoes his pants and let's them fall to his ankles. In one, hot, smooth move, he impales me and we both hang our heads back and moan. Once he's inside me, he pumps into me. I raise my hips up and down to meet his rhythm. I am the music and he is the song. We match and we fit like a puzzle finally fitting. I can't stop kissing his neck, licking his salted flesh, biting his shoulder, as the feeling of him fucking me makes me feel alive, wild, and free. So many emotions fill my head. The need for him to be inside me is overwhelming and I have no control. I lose all sense of it. Where we are, who we are, what time it is, what day it is. I am in another world.
He stops kissing me and holds my head with his large, strong hand. Cruz's eyes focus on mine as he tells me, "Come with me, Turnip. Come with me. Please." I nod at the brink of coming and a few more pumps into my body and I let go. He lets go and I feel him come inside me. I’m floating in a cloud of euphoria. I don’t want the feeling to end.
We come down from our high. My legs are still wrapped around him and I hold his neck and bury my face there. My tears coat his skin and I don't want to let go, but I have to. He holds me so tightly so if I were to let go, his grip on me would not let up. The feeling of our sweaty skin and as he holds me in his arms - I realize this was just like my dream. I remember what it felt like for him to be inside me. I remember. I love him. I’ll always love him.
But I want motherhood like I want my next breath. I want the happy life. The life I always dreamed of. I want little arms wrapped around my neck, I want to kiss the boo-boo of the skinned knees, I want to open the home-made birthday and Mother’s Day cards. I crave it, dream about it, pray for it. And going to England with Daniel and Henry is my chance.
"Stay," he says as his lips are against my shoulder.
"I can't," I say into his neck.
"Please."
"You...you have to go."
I feel him loosen his grip on me as he pulls himself out. I slide down his body and we stand there. Half-naked. Our silence is awkward.
He pulls his pants up and I do the same to mine. He doesn't look at me; he just heads for the door. I follow behind him as best as I can. My legs are weak and my heart is heavy.
He reaches the door. His hand is on it but he turns one last time to me, brushes his fingers across my cheek, over the bridge of my nose, to the other cheek.
I close my eyes and breathe out the words, “I just want to be a mom.”
When he doesn’t respond, I open my eyes and look at him. His expression changes. His eyes glaze over with sadness. He hangs his head, shaking it in defeat, looking as though he has just lost the battle. I’ve done it to him again.
He takes a deep breath and looks up at me. "I see these freckles in my dreams all the time. I see the blue of your eyes when I close mine. They're implanted in my brain. They always will be. Be happy, Har. Be happy in your life whatever path it takes you down. Always know that you made a difference in my life and for that I'll never forget you."
He leaves. He's gone.
Forever.
***
One week later~
Saying goodbye to your friends and family is hard. It's not supposed to be easy. It comes with emotions and turmoil and is supposed to break your heart. Saying goodbye to Mom and Dad broke me. I shook. I wanted to vomit. I didn't want to let go. But you're supposed to feel that way when you say goodbye. When I said goodbye to the guys, I broke down again. Porter held me for a long time, not saying much, tearing up and telling me how much he loved me. I ran my hand across the top of Max's almost grown-in mohawk. I told him to take care of my girl. He looked at me funny when I said my girl, but I’m pretty sure he knew who I meant.
Saying goodbye to Thea was short. She couldn't deal with it. She told me she loved me, she cried, and then hugged me. I didn't want to let her go, but I’m supposed to feel that way.
Willow Taylor.
The girl who’s as tough as nails wears a suit of armor like no one else. It hides her feelings and closes off her emotions when she wants it to. When she takes it off—well—that's a different story. I’ve seen her cry. She's human underneath the expensive makeup, but she brushes the tears away, telling m
e it would be a travesty for her mascara to run.
Willow says goodbyes are stupid. She didn't come and see me after we had our girls’ night. She said that was her goodbye. She called, of course, ten times a day, and she told me goodbyes weren't her thing. She'd come and see me in August before school started up again.
I kissed baby Avery and held her in my arms at the last family dinner. She's getting so big so quickly. When I see her again she'll be over a year. I'll miss so much.
Greta and I promised to video chat so I could see Avery every day if I wanted to. Pulling away from my parents’ that night, Craw driving us back to his apartment, I wanted to scream and have him turn the car around for one last hug, one last kiss on the forehead from my dad, one last loving hug from my mom. But I’m supposed to feel like that.
Craw and I stayed up all night talking about our childhood, laughing, eating junk food, and drinking some beers. He filled me in on a few memories I hadn't remembered. I’m glad he did. They were some good ones. Our long conversations mended any hard feelings we had been harboring.
He drives me here to the airport. He walks me to security and from that point on I know I am going to be alone until I meet Daniel in the terminal. Ally flew with Henry first so she could set some things up at the house and pick up Emily's dad from Ireland. She will stay the first few weeks then head back to the States. Craw can't wait for her to get back, but for him it's bittersweet.
He wheels my remaining bags and we check them in. My winter stuff, picture frames, and a few other personal things were sent last week.
We stand here at security. This is the spot we say our goodbyes.