by Kent, Julia
“I’m okay Mom, really.” I’m such a liar. My bruises will heal, but I’m not so sure about my heart. I miss Arion already. This seemed like such a good idea and the grown-up thing to do, but now I’m not so sure.
Mom pulls back to look at me and shakes her head. “You don’t look very okay.”
“They’re just bruises, Mom. They look worse than they feel, I promise. The doctor said I’ll be good as new in a few weeks.”
She just smiles a sad, knowing smile. “Oh, honey, I wasn’t talking about your bruises.”
That’s all it takes for the waterworks to start, and once they’ve begun, they don’t stop. I’m blubbering like an imbecile as Mom guides me to her car, and soon we’re stepping out of the airport beneath the blistering Arizona sun. The heat hits us as soon as we exit the doors, as if we just opened a giant oven, but even the familiar sunshine can’t warm the cold ache settled in the pit of my stomach. Even though I boarded the plane at six a.m. on the East Coast, it’s only just before nine here in Arizona, and the sun is brutal. I’ve always loved the desert landscape, but now it just makes me sad. The monotonous brown palette is as bleak as my world, with the color of Arion sucked out of it.
As much as I’ve lost—and maybe gained—I know I’m not the only one who is hurting.
“Can we stop by the hospital? I need to see Johanna.”
Mom presses her lips into a thin line, but she nods, taking a quick right turn.
As Mom navigates the downtown Tucson streets I’m struck by just how different they are from Philly. There, the city was obviously organic, spreading, changing and growing over time, old and new becoming one. Tucson, on the other hand, has persevered, persisting as a resolute reminder of its history. While new generations come and go, the city remains unchanging. If I close my eyes, I can easily imagine that the Tucson of today looks exactly like the Tucson of my Abuela’s day.
So then, why does everything feel so strange? If the city hasn’t changed, have I?
“Do you want me to come in with you?” Mom reaches over and squeezes my hand as she puts the car in park in front of the hospital.
I take a deep, shuddery breath. “No.” I think I need to do this on my own.
Memories of my childhood shadow me through the halls. There’s the time I broke my arm. The week I spent here with the flu. Stitches when I fell and busted open my lip. But on each of those occasions, I wasn’t half as scared as I am today.
I pause in Johanna’s doorway. Her head is tilted to the side, facing the wide window on the opposite wall, and I think she might be asleep. An empty chair guards the corner closest to the door. Ignoring the temptation to flee, using the excuse that I’ll just come back when she’s awake, I tiptoe toward it. My shoe squeaks on the parquet floor, and Johanna turns her head, taking me in with quiet chocolate eyes.
“Wow. You look worse than I feel.”
“They’re just bruises. I’ll heal.” My eyes start to take a quick inventory of her bruises, but her easy smile distracts me. “Jo—”
She shakes her head then winces. “Don’t. They’re just bruises. Like you said, I’ll heal.”
“But if I hadn’t been so stupid…” Her bruises are my fault, and she has to know that.
Narrowing her eyes, she fixes me with a hard stare. “Do you know what it was like?”
No, I don’t. I knew why I was being attacked. For Jo, it must have been a complete surprise. She didn’t deserve that. “I’m sure it hurt.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what?”
“It was agony. Every day I woke up wondering if that day would be the day I’d finally have to go to your funeral. Each day I went to bed, wondering what else I could have done to make you see you weren’t alone—that all you had to do was trust me enough to tell me the truth.”
I gasp, leaning against the armrest of the chair, afraid I’m going to collapse into a puddle of guilt. I can’t meet Johanna’s eyes. “I did trust you. I do trust you.”
“Then why wouldn’t you talk to me?!” For the first time since I’ve gotten here, she actually sounds angry. Lord knows she has every right to be.
“Because I was trying to protect you. I didn’t know what Nick would do if he thought you were a threat.” I finally turn back to look at her, gesturing around the hospital room. “I was afraid of exactly this.”
Her expression softens. “Come here.”
Shaking from a heady combination of relief and remorse, I trudge to the bed. She waves me closer until I’m leaning a few inches above her. Her arms envelop me as the comfort of our friendship soothes my heart.
“I may never have liked him, but I’ve always loved you, girl. You’re my best friend. You and me, we stick together. Got it?”
“Got it,” I mumble. I can’t believe she forgave me so easily, just like that. But I shouldn’t have been surprised, that’s just how she is. We chat for almost an hour. She wants to know all about Arion and Philly, and I spare no detail. When her eyes grow heavy, I say goodbye, promising to call her tomorrow.
“Did you have a nice visit?” Mom asks cautiously as I slide into her passenger seat.
“Yeah. Sorry I took so long.” I snap the seat belt in place, staring out the window.
Mom pats her giant purse that fills the console between us. “No worries. I had a book.”
The trip to the house is over quickly, and I follow Mom inside. Walking into my old bedroom is surreal. Everything is the same. Everything but me.
The wallpaper is peeling by the door, and the sliding closet door still hangs awkwardly on its track. My old patchwork comforter is still draped over the bed, guarded by my favorite stuffed dog from when I was a kid. It reminds me of Molly, and I wonder how she’s doing. From what I’ve been told, she helped lead them to me. There are very few personal items left in my room. I took most of them with me when I moved in with Nick, leaving only my furniture behind, since Nick had his own. This room is like a shell of my past, empty and barren.
I thought coming here would help me piece myself back together so I could return to Arion whole and strong. I thought wrong.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I’m not sure when Mom stepped into the doorway behind me; I was so lost in thought I didn’t hear her. Her head is tilted to the side, and her salt-and-pepper hair lay against her shoulder. She never dyes it, saying why hide who she is. Mom claims we are a product of our experiences and with age comes more experiences. So what does that make me? “How do you find yourself when you’re lost?”
Mom smiles. “You figure out what matters most, and you navigate toward it. It will guide you home.”
Home. I thought coming back here, to my home, was what I needed to do so I could find myself. But maybe I was never lost, only misguided.
“There’s coffee in the kitchen if you want some,” Mom says, lightly patting me on the shoulder before heading down the hall.
Coffee makes me think of the cafe and how second chances are never a guarantee. I shake my head. “There’s something else I think I need to do. Can you give me another ride?”
Fifty
Arion
I’ve talked myself out of chasing after her at least five times. And that’s only in the last five minutes.
I want to trust her, I really do. She said she’s coming back, and I know at the very least she believes she will. But I’m pretty sure my Mom thought she’d come back, too. People’s plans change, and the only thing certain is what is right in front of you. Trying to keep it light while driving her to the airport this morning was utter fucking torture.
I’m not sure if I should feel proud of myself for surviving day one or not. Fifteen hours and counting. I can do this.
Who am I kidding? I won’t last a week.
But I have to. If I go after her, it will mean I don’t trust her. And she’s right about one thing, relationships should be built on trust. I’m not sure what possesses me to grab my phone and call my dad, but I have
a sudden burning need for answers and I think he’s the only one who can give them to me.
Their cruise is supposed to be in port today—and I only know that because I had to check the schedule when the FBI was asking about it. Their questions were endless.
“Axel? Is everything okay?”
“No, Dad. Nothing’s okay. Not really.”
“Is this about that girl? Did you knock her up?”
I almost laugh, because Dad doesn’t seem bothered by the thought, just curious. I’m not honestly that bothered by the thought, either, but I know Angel isn’t anywhere near ready for that yet. But it’s a nice mental image to tuck away for someday. “No, it’s not that. But I need to ask you something. Why didn’t Mom come back? Why’d she leave?”
“I’m not sure that’s something that concerns you, Axel. Your mother made her choices.” Dad suddenly sounds tired.
“Please don’t brush me off about this again, Dad. I need to know, because I’m so afraid Angel will leave like Mom that I think I might have driven her away.” My dad and I have always been able to talk about anything and everything—except Mom. He liked to pretend she’d just never existed.
Dad lets out a long sigh, and I think he’s going to refuse. Then at last he clears his throat. “Axel, your mother tried to come back for you, but I wouldn’t let her because of my pride. I was having an affair, and she left because of it. She fell in love with her childhood sweetheart while she was at home with her mom, and when she came back, she told me she wanted a divorce and joint custody of you. I had money, she didn’t, and I knew she wouldn’t be able to fight me on it, so I hurt her the only way I could.”
I’m suddenly not so sure I want to hear the rest.
“I told her that you were my son, and if she wanted to divorce me, she didn’t get you. I wasn’t willing to share you, because I wasn’t willing to watch her live her life with the man she fell in love with. It didn’t matter that I was the one who drove her away, I just couldn’t stand the fact that she left me. So I kept her away.”
“And she just accepted that?” Wasn’t I worth fighting for?
“She tried to fight me on it for a bit, but it would have drained every penny she had available to her and more. Don’t blame her son, blame me. I’ve made a lot of mistakes over the years, but that might be the biggest one. Don’t let my choices cause you to lose the girl you love.”
Dad and I get off the phone, and I sit at my kitchen counter, staring blankly at the wall. Never in a million years would I have suspected my father kept my mother away. I wonder where she is now, and if she ever thinks about me or regrets her choices. I’ve thought about trying to find her over the years, but I’m never sure if the answers I’d find would make things better or worse. Maybe it’s time to consider it again.
I’m still trying to process Dad’s revelations when someone knocks on the door. I’m tempted not to answer it because I’m not ready to deal with the outside world. But I need to be, for Angel. She fought off Nick for me, so I can brave the world without her for a little while until she gets back. And I’ve got to trust that she’s coming back, because the alternative is unthinkable. Plus, she asked me to, and I find it hard not to do anything she asks of me.
“What?” I fling the door open harder than necessary.
“Is that any way to greet your girlfriend?” Angel gives me a slow, seductive smile that starts as a tiny grin but spreads over her face and begs me to take her into my arms.
So I do. I can’t get her against me fast enough. It’s been less than a day since she left, but it’s felt like forever—and the only forever I want is with her. My arms slide around her, cupping her ass and lifting her up against me. She drops her bag on the floor at our feet. “Are you staying?”
“For as long as you’ll have me,” she mumbles against my mouth as she catches my lips in an insistent kiss.
I hold her against me, using my foot to slam the door closed. Then I brace her so her back is against the door, while her legs hug my ass. There’s no doubt in my mind she can feel every inch of how much I want her. “Is this okay?” I know she’s still sore and bruised, but the surprise of having her here is doing rotten things to my self-control.
“The only thing that isn’t going to be okay is if you stop touching me,” she pants against my mouth.
“Are you sure?” I don’t want to hurt her and I don’t want to scare her, but, my God, I want to fuck the ever loving hell out of her. I’m unzipping her coat before I pause to wonder why the fuck she has a coat on. My jaw drops as I take in what I’m seeing. She’s wearing the see-through blouse she resisted trying on, but she most definitely does not have a tank top on underneath it. Or a bra.
Fuck me silly, I think I’m going to explode just from looking at her.
“Arion—take me to bed or take me right here, but please, baby, don’t make me wait.” Angel nuzzles against my neck, igniting a trail of fire with tiny kisses that shoot sensations right to my dick.
The bed will give me more options if she freaks out, so I summon what’s left of my self-control and stumble down the hallway to my bedroom. I start looking for the tie she used to tie me up last time.
“No,” she says, and I pause. “We don’t need that.”
I think she must have read my mind, which is incredibly cool but pales in comparison with the fact that she doesn’t feel like she needs that. Being extra gentle of her bruises, I lower her to the bed and start to undo the buttons of her blouse.
For the first time since she knocked on my door, she holds perfectly still, letting me work. At last, I slide it free of her shoulders, and she lets out a little sigh that I can feel all the way to my toes. I manage to contain my urgency as I remove her pants, then mine, and slip on a condom before finally lowering myself carefully over her. “Like this, Angel?” I ask, trying to give her time to be sure.
Angel turns her large eyes on me, stunning me with their very brilliance. Everything about her shimmers with life, from the sparkle in her eyes to the flush creeping across her chest. She looks like she just stepped out of a war zone, but more importantly, she looks like she knows how amazing it is she survived—and she’s not planning on wasting a moment of her life.
Her long arms reach up, and her fingers rake through my hair then grip the back of my head, pulling me so close that I can’t get any more near to her without being buried inside her. Which is exactly what I have in mind.
“My name is Tess, but if you like, you can call me Angel. I don’t care what you call me, as long as you get inside me and make me scream your name.”
I enter her with one thrust, and her hips rise to meet me as her head tips back, unleashing a throaty gasp.
“Again,” she demands, running her hands along my arms.
And then she does the most incredible thing as I dive as deeply into her as possible. She takes her hands and tucks them in mine so that my arms are resting on hers, and she’s completely beneath my control. Her fingers weave ours together as I gasp and start to pull back.
“Arion, I’m not broken, not anymore. I won’t go so far as to say I’m healed, but I’m getting there. Really, this is okay.” Her intense gaze encourages me, and we find a steady, matching rhythm of give and take. She moans, and I know she’s close, which is good because so am I. Pleasure and a sense of complete contentment is building to an unmaintainable crescendo within me, and when she cries my name I come undone.
Afterward, she lies beside me with her head on my chest, tracing tiny circles with her nail on my abs that threatens to get me roaring to go all over again.
“I told you I’d be back,” she whispers.
“I didn’t quite think you meant so soon, but I’m not complaining. What changed your mind?” I hold my breath, waiting for her answer.
“I got to Arizona, hugged my Mom, and she gave me some very good advice. Essentially, she said ‘focus on what matters most, and it will lead you home.’ You’re what matters most to me, so I guess that means you’re my
home now.”
My heart swells with the intensity of what I feel for her, and I can’t wait another moment more to tell her. Angel lifts her head, and a sly smile starts as she nibbles lightly on her lip. As if our minds are as joined as our bodies just were, we both say, “I love you,” and then seal it with a kiss. I don’t think I’ve ever meant three words more.
A kiss isn’t enough, but I think I know something I can do to show her just how much I mean it.
Fifty One
Tess
When I wake up, Arion isn’t in bed. At first I think maybe he just went to the bathroom, but my patience begins to wear thin, so I climb out of bed to look for him. My muscles are stiff and put up a strong protest, but the pull of my heart wins.
The kitchen is deserted, but an empty red mug with white wings painted on the side rests on the counter, and a fresh K-cup rests beside it. My heart speeds up, wondering what Arion is up to.
“Morning,” Arion says from the bathroom doorway.
My heart speeds up even more. If he keeps this up, I’m going to register it as a contender for Nascar. His skin is damp and kissable, and I’m tempted to say coffee can wait but decide the caffeine might not be a bad idea before I drag him back to bed.
I open the lid to pop the cartridge in, and my breath catches in my throat. He’s removed the inner cartridge, and a small black jewelry box rests snuggly inside.
This is too much. I’m not ready for this, no matter how much I desperately want us to reach this point. How can I tell him I love him, but that this is too far? “Arion—”
“Trust me, please?” A patient smile is only halfway masking the mischievousness in his eyes.
I pull the box out with a pounding heart and trembling fingers. I lift the lid, holding it away from myself like I think it’s going to bite me, but it’s empty except for a tiny, folded piece of paper. I look to Arion, but he doesn’t say a word, so I slowly open his note.