by Hazel Kelly
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice cracking.
“Which part?”
“That he was hurting you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Because he said he’d kill me if I told anyone? Because he said it was what God wanted? What my mother wanted? Because he called me names I didn’t want to remember, much less speak out loud. Why does anyone put up with any kind of abuse?”
“But the pain you endured on your own. I could’ve helped. I could’ve…at least not touched you when it was probably the last thing you needed.”
“No.” She leaned forward and laid a hand on my knee. “Please don’t apologize. You were my strength, Sebastian. You were the reason I knew that what he did to me wasn’t love. Your touch was never anything but healing and good and kind and wanted.”
My throat closed up.
“Don’t you see? If it weren’t for your love, he would’ve broken me. Your love is why I’m a survivor today instead of a statistic. Really. If you only take one thing away from this conversation, please let it be the understanding that you are the best thing that ever happened to me.”
T H I R T Y N I N E
- Lily -
I leaned back and pulled my hands into my lap again.
He shook his head and stared at the floor between his polished shoes. “It wasn’t enough,” he said before looking up. “Everything you’ve been through…I could’ve prevented it all. I could’ve protected you better.”
“I know.” I nodded. “But I didn’t give you the chance, and for that I have only myself to blame.”
“How long?” he asked. “How long did you suffer at his hands?”
I wanted to end the conversation. The pain in his eyes—in his voice—it was too much. But I could tell he needed help making sense of this. I could tell he was hurt that I hadn’t opened up to him before. “It’s hard to say.”
He narrowed his eyes at me.
“For as long as you’ve known me, anyway.”
His shoulders drooped.
“He was a functioning alcoholic when I was a kid,” I said. “I never saw anything but his fun side for a long time.”
“What changed?”
I turned my palms up. “I don’t know. His brain? It’s hard to say. All I know is he got angrier and more violent until his fun moods disappeared altogether.”
“Why didn’t your mom leave him?”
“She did.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Or at least, that’s what she was trying to do the day she crashed.”
He covered his mouth with his hand.
“She just didn’t get very far.”
His dark eyes stayed on me.
“She was a mess at that point, though. She’d been consumed by fear for so long she was almost unrecognizable.”
“So once she was gone, he set his sights on you.”
“Not right away.” I picked at my nail polish. “He mourned for a long time without ever laying a finger on me. Maybe a full year and a half. Which was uncomfortable since I blamed him for what happened.”
“And then?”
I scrunched my face. “Isn’t that enough? Do you really need me to relive more of this than—?”
“No,” he said, raising his palms. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to wrap my head around this, just trying to figure out how I could’ve failed you so badly.”
“Sebastian.”
“What?”
“You didn’t fail me. All I needed from you was love, and you always gave me more than enough.”
“Then why did you leave?” he asked. “Why didn’t you let me help you? I could’ve been there for you like I was after your mom died.”
I thought of Papa Rod down the hall and wondered about the future. It was impossible to guess how things would go after this conversation ended, impossible to know if Sebastian would still want me in his life.
But his father was forever.
And if there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that Hector Rodriguez was a good man, a man who’d risked everything for me. So the last thing I was prepared to do was blame him for my mistakes and risk harming the relationship he had with his eldest son.
Besides, I was too old to shirk responsibility. Not to mention too exhausted to make any more excuses. So I needed to make it clear to Sebastian that my mistakes were the only ones that deserved to be on trial here.
“Well?”
“Because I was scared, Sebastian. I was scared that my secret would destroy your family, that it would destroy us. That it would destroy the way you looked at me.”
He ran a hand through his disheveled hair.
“How could I hide all that stuff from you and then ask you to pick up the pieces after everything came to a head?”
“But—”
“I would’ve crumbled if I even saw you,” I said. “I would’ve crumbled.”
He squeezed his chin in his hands.
“And I needed to be strong for me and Paige. I needed to put distance between me and the unforgiveable thing I did.”
He furrowed his brow.
“I couldn’t go back to that address, to that kitchen. I became a different person in a split second, Sebastian. A bad person. A criminal. I became undeserving of you overnight.”
“That’s not true.”
“You say that now, but it was hard enough when my mom died. Don’t you remember? How the kids at school pitied you because you were stuck dating the tragic girl with the special needs sister whose dad was the town drunk?”
“That thought never crossed my mind.”
“Bullshit.”
“All I cared about was you. I never gave a fuck about any of those kids.”
“I know,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean their jeers didn’t wear on you. And it only would’ve gotten worse. You would’ve been the guy stuck dating the poor orphan girl with the—”
“I never felt stuck with you.”
“Teachers would’ve started coming up to you asking you about my mental state and enquiring about the ongoing investigation and—”
“Do you think that didn’t happen anyway?!” he asked, raising his voice. “My dad was the chief of police, Lily. Everybody thought it was within their rights to interrogate me.”
I leaned back in my chair.
“And I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea. I couldn’t even tell them if you were okay.”
I swallowed.
“Instead of the poor guy stuck with the tragic girl I became the poor guy who was so tragic even the tragic girl abandoned him. Do you have any idea how shitty that felt? I never gave a fuck about any of those people, and you left me alone with them.”
My bottom lip shuddered.
“I had nothing then. Do you get that?” he asked, waving his hands in the air. “Nothing. I’d pinned all my hopes on you. I’d invested all my love, all my time, all my dreams…and then you disappeared into thin air.”
I took a deep breath.
“I felt like a fucking lunatic. I felt like I must’ve been crazy to ever think the things I thought about what we had, to think we were solid, to think nothing could come between us.”
“I was lonely, too, Sebastian. I was—”
“But you were lonely by choice,” he said, pointing at me. “You didn’t have to be, and when you chose loneliness for yourself, you sentenced me to the same.”
My nose burned as my eyes watered.
“I was the one who got a sentence after your dad’s death. Me.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“I didn’t even know if you were alive, Lily! You didn’t even let me know you were alive.”
I leaned forward and put my head in my hands, the weight of his frustration weighing on my shoulders like a sack of wet sand. “I wasn’t,” I whispered finally.
“What?”
I sat up. “I wasn’t.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I wasn’t alive,” I
said. “Not in any way that counts.”
He shook his head.
“Really. I wasn’t. Not until you stepped up to my table that day at The Atrium, and I remembered what it was like to feel conscious of my breath, my pulse, my temperature.”
“Lily.”
“I was existing before then, sure, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say I was alive.”
His lips twitched.
“Just surviving.”
His stared at me.
“It’s not the same.”
“I know,” he said, his dark eyes searching mine.
I didn’t know what he was looking for, but I hoped he could see I had nothing left, that I’d laid it all out for him, that the ball was in his court. “Is there anything else you want to know?”
He stood up and put the picture frame back in its place.
I cocked my head, wishing I could read his mind, wishing I could at least know whether I’d said enough to convince him that he wasn’t to blame for any of this. “Now what?” I asked, softly.
He sighed. “I need time.”
F L A S H B A C K
- Sebastian -
She was salting the basket of fries when I returned with our matching chocolate shakes. “I can’t believe you’re salting those.”
“Believe it,” she said. “But I’m not doing it for the reason you think.”
I scooted into the booth across from her. “So you’re not doing it because you want me to die of thirst?”
“No,” she said, sliding the shaker back into the metal stand beside the ketchup. “I did it so our shakes taste even more chocolatey.”
I squinted at her.
“Trust me, it’s a thing. Or it might be, so we’re testing it out.”
“Whatever.” I grabbed a fry and chomped down on it. “Just tell me what you thought of the movie already.”
“Mmm.” She twisted her mouth. “It’s hard to be critical of anything with Kurt Russell and Channing Tatum in it.”
I rolled my eyes.
“But it was no Pulp Fiction.”
“We knew that going in.”
“True,” she said, using her oversized straw to stir her shake. “But I was hoping for at least a Django Unchained level of awesomeness.”
“God, Quentin would be crushed.”
“Quentin can cry into his 8mm film.”
“No he can’t. He used it all to make that movie.”
“Oh right.” She shook her head. “What a waste.”
“His genius is never wasted. Take that back.”
She raised her palms. “Fine. I take it back.”
“Good.”
“What did you think?” she asked.
“I compare everything to Inglourious Basterds now so I expect to be disappointed.”
“Final score?”
“I give The Hateful Eight a five and a half.”
Her head lunged forward. “That’s all?!”
“Do you disagree?”
She shrugged.
“The movie did give me an idea, though.”
“What’s that?” she asked, wrapping her lips around her straw in a way that made me forget the origin of my appetite.
“I was thinking we should go live on a farm like that in the middle of nowhere someday.”
She leaned an ear towards me. “So we can be murdered by assassins?”
“No,” I said. “So we can spend our days meeting people, hanging out, and enjoying nice long days of extreme weather. You don’t think that sounds romantic?”
“What? A life struggling in the hostile tundra of the Wild West?”
I raised my eyebrows.
“No.”
My shoulders dropped with my exhalation. “I think it would be great. Our kids could learn to ride horses and milk cows.”
“If you think for one second iPhones haven’t reached Idaho, I have bad news for you, Sebastian.”
I rested against the red vinyl behind me. “Fine. It was just a thought.”
“Maybe we could vacation on a ranch but then not smell like fertilizer the rest of the year. Wouldn’t that be the best of both worlds?”
“You talk a lot of sense.”
“Thanks.”
I slid my milkshake away, conscious that I was teetering on the brink of brain freeze. “I don’t really care about the ranch, to be honest. I just like thinking about getting the hell out of here, ya know? Getting married, moving in together, not having homework—”
She smiled. “That’s cute.”
“What?”
“That you think I’m going to say yes.”
I could tell by the coy look on her face that she was fucking with me. “Of course you will. You’re crazy about me. Besides, I’m the only guy who’ll put up with your shit.”
“What shit?!” she asked. “I’m a treat!”
“Which is why you’ll say yes.”
“I don’t know. Depends on where you’re going to take me for our honeymoon.”
“I’ll take you anywhere your heart desires.”
“Not good enough. You have to surprise me. I’ll have too much on my plate with the wedding planning as it is.”
“Fine. That I can do, but at least help me narrow it down since I aim to please.”
She cocked her head and rolled her eyes up towards the assortment of fifties memorabilia hanging from the ceiling.
“Anytime now.”
“Have you already bought a ring or are you going to need help with that too?”
“I’m picking the ring.”
She leaned back. “Said like a man on a mission.”
“A mission to where, though? That’s the question.”
“Give me three choices.”
I groaned and dropped my head back. “Unbelievable. I say I’ll take you anywhere, and I still have to pick the place.”
“Only because everywhere feels like a honeymoon with you, dear.”
I laughed at her affected tone.
“Well?”
“Okay,” I said, wracking my brain. “Option one: romantic tour of Europe.”
“Go on.”
“We’ll hit all the flashiest spots: Paris, Venice, Barcelona, Stockholm—”
“Stockholm?”
“I heard even their Pizza Huts have chandeliers.”
“That could be cool.”
“Right?! And after doing touristy stuff all day, we’ll spend our evenings drinking fine wine and listening to local music.”
“Sounds amazing,” she said. “How are you going to top that?”
“Option two…” I stuffed some fries in my mouth to buy myself time, swallowing when a picture of some old wooden surfboards caught my eye. “Option two is your standard all-inclusive Caribbean resort destination. You know, two weeks of nothing but drinks with umbrellas, bowls of fruit we don’t recognize, and a private balcony where we can hook up to the sound of the clear blue water lapping beneath our bungalow.”
“I don’t think it’s called hooking up when you’re married.”
“I know, but making love sounds so…”
“Yeah, okay, good point. What’s option three?”
“Did you like option two?”
“Of course. Who wouldn’t?”
“Good,” I said.
“So?”
“So option three is…” I stared at the condensation dripping down the outside of my shake. “We book a room in an ice hotel.”
A visible chill shook Lily from the neck down.
“And spend every day dogsledding and hiking glaciers.”
Her eyes narrowed like she wasn’t sure she liked where this was going.
“And in the evenings, we’ll snuggle under enormous fur blankets to keep warm and watch the northern lights dance overhead until we fall asleep. And when morning rolls around, I’ll kiss the frost off your eyelashes to wake you up.”
Her mouth fell open. “Oh my God.”
“What?”
“That’s the most romantic thi
ng I’ve ever heard.”
I shrugged like it was nothing.
“I’m so in love with you,” she said as if it had only just occurred to her. “I will totally marry you.”
“Good to know, but I haven’t asked.”
“What?! You tease! That’s horrible!”
“Not my fault you got swept up in the moment, babe.”
She groaned. “So when are you going to ask?”
“When you’re ready.”
“What? I’m so ready!”
I shook my head. “You’re not.”
“Yes I am.”
I laid a hand on my chest, relishing how much fun it was to tease her. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve been ready for a while now.”
She folded her arms.
“But I think you still have some growing up to do.”
“I do not,” she said, throwing a fry at me.
“Thank you for proving my point.
She blushed and fixed her eyes on me. “Fuck off.”
I smiled. “Never.”
F O R T Y
- Sebastian -
The days following my dad’s heart attack were tough. He was fine. Or at least, he would be once they adjusted his meds and cleaned out a few blockages.
But as intensive as that ordeal was, at least there was a well-established procedure in place to help him move forward, which was a luxury I envied as I tried to process everything Lily had told me.
I didn’t even know where to start. It was as if the rabbit holes in my head were so numerous I’d never be able to explore them all.
I tried. Lord knows I tried. I called in sick for the first time ever, taking a week off work to pace around my room, stare at my ceiling, and pull at my beard. Thank God for Tiffany or I might’ve forgotten to eat. When the weekend rolled around, though, she told me I had to shave before dinner because I looked “a hot mess.”
I had no right to sulk, of course. Nor had I had any right to make the conversation about me in that doctor’s office, laying a guilt trip on Lily over what I went through after she left. Seriously, what the fuck was my problem?