Next to You (Life)

by Claudia Y. Burgoa

  Since repetition might be the way you learn, let me tell you one last time. My shit had to be worked out, Daniel…facts of what I lived, stuff I wanted to get out of the way and others I’m still working on. They all need to stay behind me.

  Do you think it has been easy to relive my experiences on a daily basis? Feel my insides break time and again when I describe how Ian raped me? Mom hitting the shit out of me ever since Grandma died, emotionally abusing and neglecting me. Recounting second by second how Lisa’s head hit the floor after Ian shot her or their blood and brains redecorating my room when he finished off himself and more. All while the person in front of me would ask after the ghastly story the same question: How do you feel about it?

  They complemented that kind of therapy with others that didn’t include remembering each second of my traumas. No, the others were hypnotherapy, taking you to the moment of the event while sleeping—night terrors. Sadistic monsters, I used to call them at the end of each session. But they got me through the worst. They gave me tools to learn how to recognize my triggers and soothe them before I let myself fall back into that hole. Let me reassure you again that it wasn’t a pleasure trip—nor a paid retreat. Repeating myself, and going to the archives of a few or maybe the first letters, I heard you talking to Tyler, that you had grown tired of what I had become. You couldn’t deal with me either. Due to my past, our future started on a cracked foundation and of all people, you know what happens when the foundation of a structure has fissures.

  While I dealt with my crap, I tore it down with the idea of building something new and solid. I expected you to be upset, but not in a permanent stage of anger. That rage you carry around isn’t good for my heart, or yours for the matter. Now, to respond to your question—again—yes, I thought about the consequences and what it might do to you, us. The pros seemed to weigh more than the cons, but as of this day you continue to put the latter on top of the reason why you should hate me. Reason number twelve to forget about her, she didn’t give a shit about me and left…which is the same as reason number one, fifty nine and two thousand and thirteen. That’s why for now we’ll remain friends, because there’s no point in starting something when you haven’t closed the other chapter.

  Becca

  “Ugh, do we have to?” Becca interjects.

  “This is merely a clarification.” She huffs but says nothing more. “I never hated you, I don’t. I tried, but you can’t hate that one person you love the most. Though, you can be angry at that same person with the same passion that you love her.” I can’t define exactly how those words came or why, but they continue emerging. “That’s what makes the anger so intense—why this is so infuriating. I’m working on my composure so we can start the negotiations to start a new partnership; but it’s hard.”

  “Using the charmer-business man combo is lethal, Brightmore,” she says, biting the smirk as if she is trying to hide it. “Am I some contract now?”

  “Yes, the most important one in my life, Bex.” There’s no answer, her body language says nothing; she’s too busy walking at a fast speed. “Before I disclose every clause, I need to know, do we stand a chance?”

  She comes to a halt, pulling on Rusty who was walking ahead of us. He turns to look at us and then back at the trail. It appears he isn’t happy about the break.

  “Chance at what, Dan?” A rhetorical question I find out since she continues talking, “In a couple of weeks I’m shipping off for Guatemala. There’s this program that helps internationally and I want to either copy their model or try to join forces with them. They rebuild homes, schools and help create small businesses around the globe. I’m moving places, doing things and not waiting around like I used to.”

  “When we come back,” I interrupt her, planning the trip inside my head, “we’ll see where we’re at. That’s a great idea. The trip sounds like the perfect opportunity to broaden our horizons—Foundation wise. Don’t you think?”

  “Oh no, you are not coming with me.” She begins to tap her foot when I grin at her. “Insufferable, that’s what you are Daniel Elijah Brightmore.”

  “Yeah, but you love me that way.” She takes off, Rusty behind now and I catch up in three strides. “This will be fun, you and me saving another country. Doesn’t it sound like the beginning of a great novel… one of those books you like to read?”

  “You’re a walking cliché, Mr. Brightmore.”

  “You’re trying to get upset and can’t seem to achieve it, Princess.” She inflates those pretty cheeks and puffs the air out of them. She’s definitely trying to brew some rage inside with zero success.

  “I’m mostly scared Dan, you upset is like walking on top of hot coals that are swimming in lava.”

  “That’s redundant, Bex.”

  “But painful, Dan.” She shakes her head. “You think I could survive some emotional war with you, my favorite person in the world? Why do you think I’m staying away? I can’t, the consequences would be catastrophic. I told you, I won’t fight you, only fight for us. And that is a battle I can’t start until you—”

  “Become civilized?” She nods. “Can we make a deal?” There is a second nod. “Let’s show each other what we’re made of, Bex. That I’m not an asshole that’s out to get you—and before you give me some sarcastic remark—I do accept that I’m vindictive and can be cold enough to make a baby cry, but not you, you’re my everything—my life. You can show me that Geneva wasn’t a waste of time and the separation was worth every second. More than twenty three million of them.”

  “Seconds?” Becca’s voice carries some annoyance to it. “The way you spend that free time of yours amazes me, Dan. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves and see how the future pans out.”

  Chapter 28

  With my shitty life, I became a big believer in the ‘you make your own luck’ philosophy. You work hard for what you want and make it happen. It has worked since the first time I fought hard and got respect from the other foster children. I planned hard and was able to survive. Of course after meeting Raj, having to go to a counselor to avoid juvie and being under the roof of the Swansons… my ways and luck changed. However, I still worked hard, made the grades, got the scholarship and created my businesses from scratch.

  As I grew, I learned how to control my environment and the outcomes and I mastered avoiding inconvenient incidents. At this point in my life, I know what I like and what I want. The only person that can throw me off my game walks next to me—Rebecca Trent. That woman doesn’t care about my order. She changes my plans more often than not, but I adore the woman although I hate when she does that. It’s not as if she had asked me to join her. No, she woke up today in the mood to go to Pebble Beach and stroll around with her puppy—alone. A beach, not sure what the girl thought she’d encounter, but this isn’t the Maldives, Fiji or her own private island with white sand and warm weather.

  There is a blue print I need to review and contracts and… instead, I am here discovering new places.

  “Why the sour face, Brightmore?”

  “Why the last name, Trent?”

  “Because you’re being a killjoy,” she responds. “You didn’t have to come. An hour drive wouldn’t have killed me, nor the mean golfers over on the course.” She points toward the green fields. “Either you change that bitter body posture and lighten up, or go home.”

  “And leave you here?”

  “I’m done, I didn’t want to do this but enough is enough, Daniel.” She stops, stomps her feet then moves her body one step to the right so she’s right in front of me. The most unexpected move follows. She places each one of her hands on the side of my cheeks grabbing some hair between her fingers and pulls me down. A kiss, it doesn’t last very long, it’s between a brush and a peck… something in between. I place my head on her forehead since she doesn’t let go of my hair and I’m not fighting her. Actually now I’m back into the wanting mode. “Enjoy the moment, let go of the grudge for a day, please. Today I need to let go of everything, have
a moment of peace and find something to erase… just stop searing inside. Please. Surrender that anger for the next few hours.”

  “I’m not angry,” I explain to her, my voice is now flowing with the rhythm of the sea. Relaxed. “We don’t take off out of the blue to—“

  “Yes we do, Dan,” Rebecca says as she runs her hands through my hair, making me shiver. “All the time, I learned this from you. The difference is that you organize the outings, you don’t like others—in this specific case me—to spring last minute expeditions on you. That’s why you’re fighting me, isn’t it?” I nod, because she nailed it. “Sometimes it is good to let it go, give up some control. Pause, take a breather and experience the moment. In a couple of hours you can go back to that world of yours where everything is fast, where mergers matter more than dipping your toes in the sand and—“

  “What about tomorrow?”

  “You can go back to not liking me.” Becca’s lips quiver some, but she controls it fast. “This is… remember that movie where the girl lost her short term memory and needed a daily reminder of what had happened to her since the accident? For the past four days this has been a similar situation. By the end of the day you’re comfortable with me, the next, I need to work for it again. What happens to you at night?”

  “You really want to know, Becca?” She nods, the movement is short but constant. “I go to bed without you, needing you and then of course, I wake up without you next to me. I detest it.”

  My current mellow mood has a lot to do with that kiss she gave me and the fact that our physical distance is microscopic at the moment. When she departed and returned the ring, she removed my rights to touch her. I don’t have the privilege to claim her mouth, her body or her soul at any time I want. The cycle continues, she won’t let me in until I calm down and I can’t do it until she gives me back what belongs to me—her.

  “Yeah, I notice you calm when I touch you.” She sighs and Rusty barks. “But you also avoid almost all contact with me. Hence I kissed you using the element of surprise, you’re this walking contradiction sending opposite signals and confusing us both. Raj said we should go to couples counseling.” Becca’s body begins to shake, she’s biting her cheeks and then releases me because she chokes with the laugh she’s trying to phantom. Recovering from the cough, choke, laughing attack; she takes a deep breath and speaks again, “You and a counselor, I can’t imagine something like that.”

  “Been there, done that—twice.” She frowns, then takes my sunglasses off, while pushing hers on top of her head. Those brown eyes want to know more. “When I was younger, it was a way to avoid juvie. Raj, Randy and another friend of theirs pulled strings to make it happen.”

  “The guy you killed because you refused to join his gang?” I see red, because I never told her that. “Buddy, he said you saved his life, and yours.”

  “Well, yeah, that and then…” I swallow because I’ve no idea how she’s going to react when I tell her I had to go to counseling to get over what happened to her. “After I learned about… Ian.”

  “Couples are funny like that,” she says, reaching for my cheek and caressing it with her hand. “I’ve discovered slowly, that when one is affected by an issue, the other hurts too. Symbiosis; nothing to do with codependency.” Her hand slides from my face to my torso and stops right on top of my heart. “They depend on the other one, giving each other support is part of being a unit. Speak up, compromise, be supportive, and respect for one another’s wishes, feelings and privacy. Everything that I went through affected you in a way, and obviously you’re conflicted about it. Thank you, for trying to understand me.”

  Understand her? I only tried, but in fact, back then I didn’t do it. That was one of the most important things I read on that pamphlet, the one that my counselor explained again and again. She needed to regain her sense of personal control. The one Ian snatched from her. The one she faked having for so long, until everything waltzed back in to remind her what she lost or never had.

  “Now that I know more about your past, I try to—comprehend your side,” Becca says. “You need to control, protect, and make sure that you won’t lose those that you love. Also that they have everything you think they need, and more. We should compromise. I need to know that I’m in charge of my life; that I can provide for myself.”

  “Ten,” I tell her. “No, it was before that. Since Bethany Trent—your grandma—died, you were responsible for yourself, Princess.” I place a curl that came loose from her braid around her ear. “A little girl cooking, cleaning, making sure her mother was taken care of and taking her abusive behavior all at once. You’re strong and lived to tell the story, though in order to survive you became the introverted-shy person. The things Donna wouldn’t provide, either you learned to live without them or bought them with the money you earned from babysitting and later waitressing. Now it’s my turn to take care of what’s mine, Princess. That’s you.”

  “You can take care of me, but when we’re really together,” she says. “We’ll take care of each other. That’s what relationships are all about.”

  “You’ve changed a little.” I kiss her nose. “Though, you’re still sweeter than honey and less introverted. Did you stop loving me?”

  “Never,” she answers and takes a step forward. “Walk with me.” This time we link our fingers together. My heart is beating at the same rhythm as the sea, no doubt synchronized with hers.

  There’s an ongoing breeze that keeps the sun from warming us. If we were in the northeast I would call this a wind-chill. I’m glad Becca came prepared with everything, from waters to a sweatshirt. Damn, she’s capable of taking care of herself, but I’ve been the one always insisting on doing it for her. Such a tender soul shouldn’t have been fending for her life the way she did, it wasn’t a male chest bumping trip. No, it was the fact that she and I share similar wounds. Parental abandonment, abuse and… I want to make life easier for her, make her happy.

  “Let’s go on a date,” she finally speaks after about a mile of walking in silence.

  “That’s bold of you to ask, Becca.” I wink at her and that grants me a playful slap on the arm. “Don’t you think I’ve taken you on a lot of those, dates, Princess? How about the time we celebrated your driver’s license?”

  “If I didn’t know it was a date, it doesn’t count.” Then she breaks and frowns. “I was sixteen, Dan. Really?” I shake my head, because back then I considered her my little friend, the tiny little one that needed TLC. “When?”

  “Making a timeline up here?” I stroke her temple with my lips and she beams. “Not sure. The first time I realized you were no longer a little girl, was at Ty’s wedding. You looked—“

  “You pampered me so much that day.” She grins and resumes our walk. “First you bought me a dress—my first formal gown. Then you sent me to an exclusive salon where they cut my hair, showed me how to apply makeup and… you taught me how to dance.” She lowers her voice and her mind is gone, “Rockefeller Center, there was a shooting star—“

  “A plane,” I interrupt her. “Switzerland was a star, New York was a plane, baby. You almost fell trying to get a good look at it because you wouldn’t believe me. Last time I checked, you still make wishes upon planes—fake stars.”

  “I did make a wish, back then you didn’t know because I made sure not to tell you.” She turns her head to look at me and she chews her lip before continuing her conversation. “Ever since my sixteenth birthday, you’ve always wanted to know what they are—my wishes—and that one was special. A prince, to rescue me… to love me. That’s what I wished for.”

  If any other woman or person in the world told me that, I’d laugh. But for Becca, a wish that big is special. Her wishes have always been part fairy tale, part trying to forget or fix her crappy life. At eighteen, and after what had happened just a year prior in her house, I can see her wishing for a life line. That’s what the prince was about, someone to pull her out of the hole. The fact that she pinpointed the sam
e time I came to terms with the fact that I would do anything for her makes sense.

  “I believe we both fell in love with each other right then,” she says and I agree. “But since neither one knew better, we labeled it with the wrong tag and treated the most important thing of our relationship without the necessary care.”

  “I would like to take this new you on a date, Becca,” I tell her because her mind keeps wandering and I don’t want anything to disturb our peace. “But if you think about it, we’ve been on a long date ever since we met. It was nothing serious at the beginning, an only friends-platonic period until… New York. When, as you said, I fell in love with you, but I didn’t know what it was.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” she confirms as she scrunches her nose and takes a deep breath. “We lost the window, right there. We put each other in the friend zone and everything went into a dormant stage. What do you think awakened it?”

  “A call of a stranded girl in a foreign country, because I’m a dumbass,” I tell her. “Deja vu, we already went through this conversation.” Except we’re not in bed, and she isn’t in my arms waking up as my girlfriend. “Unless you’re talking about yourself?” She nods and smiles. “Do you have answers?” She shakes her head and presses her lips into a thin line.

  “I have this thing,” Becca says gesturing with her hands and moving the leash that holds Rusty in all directions. I take it from her to steady the poor guy. “Years back, when you were dating all those models, I wondered if he hadn’t touched me, if you’d have looked at me different.” That hit me directly in the gut. “But I would shake any of those thoughts from my brain, knowing that women were temporary for you, and I was permanent, because we were friends, best friends—family.”

  “Another reason why you fought against our relationship at the beginning?” She nods and smiles. “Miss Trent, you’re this little open book that keeps giving and giving information. What else is there? Any insight on when you’ll take this relationship to the next step?”