by Beth Michele
“I have to go.” She closes the door behind us and I follow her to the elevator, neither one of us saying anything.
The entire ride down to the lobby, I’m staring at her and she’s focusing on the numbers as we descend, still clutching onto that strap like she needs protection from me. Maybe after last night, she does.
Her eyes drift from the panel to the dried blood on my knuckles. “What happened to your hand?” she asks, eyes softening with concern, giving me hope that she still cares about me.
I cover up my fist with my other hand. “I had an accident with the wall.”
The doors open then and she bolts. A dull ache slices through my chest, knowing she wants to run from me. But I catch up to her and grab her arm. “Wait,” I plead, and her eyes move to my hand so I wrench it away. “Listen.” I dig my hands in my back pockets so I don’t touch her again, but leave our eyes connected. “I never got a chance to thank you… for that picture of Tyler and me. It’s… it’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. I just want you to know,” I trail off, discomfort forcing my gaze away because I don’t want her to see right through me. “It means a lot.”
“You’re welcome.” With a nod of her head she turns and breezes past several people before my voice stops her in her tracks, again.
“Blondie!” I yell out, and she whips around just before reaching the glass door. “I can remember now,” I shrug, “he had five freckles.” A half-smile softens her lips and then she disappears into the crowd.
That smile—something else I never want to forget.
Hurried, I turn the corner of my apartment and slump against the nearest building, letting go of my purse and briefcase. I clutch my stomach, trying like hell to breathe and even harder to suppress the tears that threaten to fall. I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to push Rex away. The vulnerable part of me wanted to fall into his arms, while the tough side of me had to keep him at bay.
I can’t erase the look on his face when he talked about the picture. It made me want to wrap my arms around him and never let him go—to be the one who takes away his demons. But I can’t be his savior and I certainly won’t be his punching bag.
For a second, I wonder if I was too hard on him—until the memory of last night kicks me in the gut and I realize I probably wasn’t hard enough. Trust is a fragile thing and once it’s shattered, the pieces are difficult to put back together.
The problem is, I’m drawn to him, like a moth is to a flame. I know myself, though, and sooner or later I’ll get burned. As hard as it is, I have to distance myself. Even though it’s the last thing I want to do. Trying to temper my thoughts, I gather my bags and focus on getting to work. That will be my salvation now.
I’m barely inside the glass doors before Tillie bombards me. “Morning, sunshine! I have three phone messages for you here and you had four messages about the Hamilton launch already. I left them on your desk with the guest list. Oh, and Jonathan had to go to California for a last minute meeting with a potential client so he needs you to sit in on the Chelsea meeting, and—”
“Take a breath, Tillie.” I pick up the message slips from my inbox on her desk. None of them look too urgent until I get to the last one, that says Rex. Just seeing his name on a sheet of damn paper has my heart skipping a beat. This will bode really well for me staying away from him. “Tillie, what’s this?” I flip the paper around so she can see it. “It just says Rex.”
“Oh yeah,” she smirks, making a noise with her throat, “I’m supposed to deliver the following message.” She snaps her gum inside her cheek. “Rex called and he wants you to know he’s thinking about you. Oh,” she leans closer, whispering, “and he sounds hot.”
My lips quiver at the corners and I can’t help the shake of my head that ensues. “Gah!” I grumble, before retreating to my office and closing the door. What is he trying to do? I just left him not more than thirty minutes ago. I guess telling him I needed space meant absolutely nothing.
Stacks of paperwork on my desk lift my spirits, telling me I’ll be so busy next week that I won’t have time to think about Rex. I plop down in my chair, stowing away my purse in a side drawer then logging on to my computer. The amount of e-mails I have to reply to is staggering, but I figure I’ll dig into those first.
After going through nearly a hundred of them, I settle in with all of the details to prepare for the Hamilton event. Next Friday will come quickly and I need to make sure I have everything in order.
While I’m reviewing the orders for food and drink, my eyes can’t help but wander over to that silly pink slip with Rex’s name on it. I mentally scold myself for acting this way, as if my brain isn’t already on Rex overload. Picking up the slip, I crumple it into a ball and throw it in the wastebasket. There. Done and score.
If only it were that easy.
My phone rings and my ears go on high alert, while my mouth lets out an aggravated, “What now?” A small breath of relief departs my lips when I see it’s Ryder.
“Hey, Ryder, what’s up?”
“Hey. I’m just checking on you. You left before I woke up this morning and I wanted to see how you’re doing?” His voice is filled with concern, reminding me of how sweet he is. Of course, that doesn’t do it for me. I prefer them sick and twisted.
“I’m fine, why?”
“Are you the same girl who was in my apartment last night?” he teases and I giggle.
“Oh. I’m doing okay.”
“Did you speak to Rex?” he asks, and there’s loud chattering in the background.
“Well, he came to see me today…,” I swallow, “to apologize.”
“And… hold on,” he muffles the phone, “I’ll be right there. Okay?” He comes back on the line. “Sorry. So what happened? Did you kiss and make up?”
“No,” I reply, although his idea sounds much better than my reality. “I told him I can’t be with him right now and to get some therapy.”
“You did not!” he yells into the phone.
“Oh yes, I did.” I kick off my heels, flexing my toes under the desk.
“Vanessa,” he reprimands, “you know that’s not what you want.”
“Actually, it is. I can’t shake off the feeling I had last night and I’m not sure it won’t happen again.”
He’s quiet for a minute but then says, “People make mistakes, darlin’.”
“Ryder.” I exhale an abrasive sigh. “If anyone knows that, it’s me. But….”
“But you’re scared.” He finishes my sentence for me as if he can read my mind.
“Okay, yes. Happy?” I bite back, immediately regretting my outburst.
“Hey, take it easy there, tiger.”
“Sorry.” I close my eyes, tipping my head back against the cool leather of the chair.
“I forgive you. You see, everyone makes mistakes.” And I can picture him smiling as if he were right in front of me.
“Okay. I have to get back to work now, Doc. I’ll drop off the check for our session later.”
He chuckles into the phone. “You do that. Later.”
“Bye, Ryder.”
No sooner do I start sorting through the orders when the intercom sounds.
“Vanessa, Olivia is here. Can I send her in?”
“Sure, thanks, Tillie.”
A minute later, there’s a subtle tap on the door and Liv pokes her head in, a curtain of chestnut strands swaying around her face. “Hey, V. Is this a bad time?”
“No, it’s fine. The boss is in Cali. Come on in.” I pile the papers and set them on the corner of my desk while Olivia takes a seat, elbow bent on the armrest of the chair, studying me.
“You okay?”
Oh God, not her too.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I state in a firm tone, and I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince more.
“Really? After everything that happened last night, you’re fine. And why didn’t you call me?” She purses her lips, narrowing her deep blue eyes.
I settle back
in my chair, figuring this is going to be a lengthy conversation. “How do you know what happened last night?”
“Well, I stayed at Hunter’s and apparently Rex came by at some ridiculous hour. He was really upset.”
“He was?” I ask, fishing for reassurance, something I can hold on to, believe in.
“Yes. He—”
My hand halts her words. “Before you say anything else. You were right. I got hurt.”
“Oh, V,” she says softly, coming forward and resting her elbows on the desk. “I didn’t want to be right. And honestly, after talking with Hunter this morning, I’m not so sure I am.”
“What do you mean?” I jump in, desperately needing confirmation of Rex’s words.
“I don’t know. Hunter said he’d never seen him like that before. I get the feeling he cares about you.”
Hope blooms in my chest, but is stunted by my own insecurity. Or maybe it’s a lack of faith.
“Well, he could’ve fooled me. Oh wait.” I let out a harsh laugh. “He did.”
“I can’t believe I’m actually saying this.” She gives me a tight smile. “But maybe you should give him another chance.”
Stunned, I do a double-take. “You’re kidding, right, Liv? After all the warnings to stay away from him? Now you’re joining the Rex fan club,” I proclaim, my hand going to my temple to ease the mounting tension.
“What does that mean?” she questions, and I shake my head, brushing it off.
“Never mind.”
Her cell phone dings and she retrieves it from her purse, a wide smile curving her lips as she views the screen.
“Let me guess. Hunter?”
“Yup.” She practically bounces as she gets up from the chair. “I have to run. We have a lunch date.”
“On his desk?” I tease, coming from behind mine to walk her out to the elevators.
The car opens and she steps on, flashing me a flirty grin and a glimpse of her lacy pink bra. “Maybe.”
“Hussy,” I mouth, just as the doors close.
I casually stroll past Tillie’s desk, watching as she stares intently at her computer, her long, manicured nails tapping feverishly on the keyboard. “Any messages?” My words come out casual, but I can’t help biting on my lip.
“Nope, nothing new.” She continues to focus on her work.
“Okay, thanks.” My stomach dips with disappointment but then I remember I asked for this. This is what I want.
Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I’ll start to believe it.
“Rex. It’s good to see you,” Dr. Billings greets me as I step further into her office.
A large part of me feels like this is a mistake. But something prompted me to make the appointment, and since I’m here, I might as well see if she has anything valuable to offer.
She takes a seat across from me in her swivel chair, white-lined pad placed on her lap, black hair pushed up into a high bun. Her matching designer glasses rest against her face, blue suit perfectly pressed. She looks more like an attorney than a therapist, until she opens her mouth.
“So, Rex,” she begins, folding her hands across the length of the pad. “I was both surprised and pleased to get your call. It’s been a few months and it sounds like we need to catch up.”
I don’t respond right away. Instead, I glance around her small office, books neatly organized on the shelf, framed academic degrees lining the walls. I’m aware of the stiff leather couch I’m sitting on, where hundreds of other patients have sat before me spilling all their fucked-up issues, and many will after me as well.
“Rex.” The even keel of her voice gets my attention.
“Yeah?”
“So, tell me what’s happening. Tell me how things are going.”
“They’ve been better.” My knee is bouncing with nerves, wanting to be anywhere but here. I hate this fucking place. It always makes me feel like I’m crazy.
“Expound, please.” She taps her pencil against her pad in time with the second hand ticking on the clock, driving me toward temporary insanity.
“I met a girl. A girl who’s making me say and do crazy shit.” I bite down on my thumbnail, watching Dr. Billings fight back a smile.
“What do you mean?” She starts jotting down notes with her pencil, making me wonder what the hell she’s writing. I’ve barely said anything.
“Just crap I normally wouldn’t say. I find it coming out, even wanting to say it sometimes.”
“Are we talking about feelings, Rex?” She pauses with her pencil in mid-air, appraising me in a way that only a therapist can.
“Yeah. And I don’t know how to handle them. Well,” my other leg joins in on the bounce, “I may not get a chance to now anyway.”
“I’m not following.”
“It was my birthday yesterday, and you know I hate that fucking day. Well, I came home to find her, Vanessa that is, making me dinner and I lost it. Said some hateful things to her and I’m not sure she’ll forgive me. She’s actually one of the reasons I’m here.” I exhale a smug laugh. “She calls me on my shit. She basically told me to stop using the past as an excuse to be an asshole.”
Dr. Billings raises her chin, head tilted slightly to the side. “I like this girl already.”
“It just reminded me of how fucked up I am, where I come from.” I brace an arm firmly against the couch as if it can give me the support I need. “Everything feels so fucked up sometimes.”
“What does, Rex?”
“I’m the product of a selfish, alcoholic mother and a low-life asshole for a father. The only positive thing I can think of is Hunter.” I swallow hard. “And Tyler, of course. Hunter never treated me as anything less, even when I told him the truth.”
“And why would he? He loves you. Blood doesn’t change that. Look, Rex,” she places her pad on the side table, “I see people all the time who come from dysfunctional families, who end up closer to friends or other people’s families than they are to their own. Tell me, who brought you up, Rex? Who raised you?”
“Daniel did,” I mutter, recalling the memories I have of him as a child.
“Daniel was your father in the ways that mattered, Rex. He loved you; he raised you until he passed away. That’s the only father you’ve ever known.” She rolls her chair closer. “You know, Rex, you have to stop looking at yourself in such a negative light all the time. You’re a good person.”
“Am I?” I stare at the yellow paint on the wall, thinking about Vanessa. “She gave me a picture of Tyler and me as a gift, so I would remember him.”
“That’s a lovely thing for her to do. She must care about you.” She says it with a reassuring smile on her face, yet I don’t feel sure about anything.
“I think she did.” Regret rolls off of me in waves, my stomach dizzy with it.
“And I’m sure she still does. Whatever you said,” she laughs, “I’m sure it was a whopper, but nothing that can’t be fixed. You just might have to work a bit harder than you’re used to. But….” Her fingers toy with the pearls around her neck. “It sounds to me like she might be worth it.”
My lips turn up of their own volition. “Yeah, I think she just might be. And… I-I’ve been thinking about Tyler a lot, too. Trying to remember what you said about not blaming myself. But it’s so fucking hard sometimes. He told me over and over again how he didn’t like that babysitter.” I thrust a hand roughly through my hair, guilt shrouding my words. “He was trying to tell me, in his own way, give me clues, but I didn’t listen. I thought he was being a pain in the ass because he was younger and wasn’t able to tag along with Hunter and me. If only I had listened, maybe, just maybe—”
“Rex.” She sits forward on an exhale of breath. “I don’t want you to do this to yourself. There is no maybe. You were a child. Period. You were not responsible for your brother in that way. There is only one person who was, and since your father was no longer living, we both know who that was. Now, tell me.” She leans back in her chair. “Have you had any intera
ction with your mother?”
“I’ve run into her, but that’s about it. She hasn’t changed and she’s not going to. There’s really no hope for any kind of a relationship there.”
“Okay. And while we’ve discussed it before, I seem to hear more acceptance in your voice now. So this is what I’d like you to think about. Why don’t you start using your energy on the people that matter in your life, as opposed to the ones that take away from it. I don’t want to see you continuing to let the past define you because that will lead you down a dark road, Rex… and you’ve traveled that path before. It’s time to chart a new course.” She gets up and walks behind her desk. “Since I squeezed you in today and we didn’t have a lot of time, why don’t we schedule another session?” she suggests, flipping pages in her appointment book.
“Do I have to?” I joke, pushing off the couch and heading for the door. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Okay, Rex. You know where I am. Feel free to reach out via phone if you need to. Take care of yourself.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
The protective coating I have whenever I’m sitting in her office slides away the moment I step outside. Everything changes when I walk off—the bright sky turns dark, the sun hiding behind my clouded past. Uncertainty swells within me as my feet hit the cement, but there’s one thing that keeps me going now. One person who has shined a light on a side of me I never knew existed, who makes me want to get to know the person she sees when she looks at me.
And I sure as hell won’t give her up. Not without a fight.
I pull my cell phone from the pocket of my jeans, finding Vanessa’s number and sending her a text.
Hope you got my message. And just in case you’re wondering, I’m still thinking about you. And I’m so sorry… for everything.
I’m not expecting a response, which is a good thing since I don’t get one. I shove the phone back in my pocket, checking my watch and discovering I’ve only got ten minutes until I need to be at work. My day consists of back-to-back tattoos so there won’t be much time to breathe or think—which works for me.
The shop is crazy busy when I arrive and the energy here brings me the best kind of high. The humming of the tattoo machine is music to my ears, the smell of cleaning products and sterile air making me feel right at home. And this is my home now. Dr. Billings was right about that. Zeek and the other artists I work with have become like my family. We share stories and bond over our art, something a lot of people don’t understand.