Fix Up

by Stephanie Witter

  Mr. Ashdown walks toward me with a kind smile, but he doesn’t try to initiate any kind of contact. He’s very perceptive, and I don’t think he’s the kind of man to push someone if he’s not sure of the person’s reaction. Once again it hits me to see how much Duke looks like his father. Both are very tall, well-built with thick dark hair quite unmanageable. Same perfect nose, same full lips, but I don’t dare think the word sensuous when I’m currently looking at Duke’s dad.

  He stands in front of me with a nervous smile, his eyes wandering between me and Duke. Duke is situated behind me, answering all his mother’s hushed questions with a calm temperament I’m jealous of.

  “How are you, Skye? We wanted to come see you at the hospital, but Duke told us it’d be best to wait until you recovered,” he says finally, his voice not as deep as his son’s, but even softer in a way.

  “I’m better. It’s not always easy, but Duke, my friends and my parents help me.”

  Duke’s hand comes to my shoulder, and he leads us all to the living room, which is not different from the last time I came here. It’s not long ago, just a few weeks back, but since then many things have changed. So many that it feels like an eternity since I met Duke’s parents for the first time.

  “And your therapy,” adds Duke as he takes a seat beside me on the couch, his thigh touching mine. He immediately takes my hand in his, and both his parents are beaming. It’s great to have them so glad to see me with their son. They could have been more cautious like his sister was at first, but they’re just happy and proud to see Duke finally moving on and opening his heart to someone else after all the drama they went through after Juliet’s death.

  I entwine my fingers with his, securing my lifeline. “Is Alana coming?” I ask, looking back at Mrs. Ashdown about to go check dinner in the kitchen.

  “Yes, she should be here any moment.”

  As soon as she finishes her sentence, knocking at the front door preceded the sound of the door opening and closing loudly. Alana hurries in to the living room, spots me and runs to hug me with all her strength. Not only is it unexpected, it’s also kind of painful and freaking me out.

  I’m frozen, my hands squeezing Duke’s way too hard. Consequently, I don’t move. I’m not sure I’m even breathing, and my ears are buzzing. It’s just a hug from someone I know! I shouldn’t still be so messed up when someone I know is initiating body contact.

  “Alana, that’s enough. It’s too much,” Duke says, his strong free hand now forcing his sister away from me.

  From the corner of my eye, I can see Duke’s dad frowning, but he says nothing. I know what I must look like, and I hate it. I hate to be once again so weak in front of them, showing how much Duke does for me when I’m doing pretty much nothing for him besides bringing worries into his life.

  I force a smile for Alana who now looks ready to cry. She’s still as beautiful as I remember, but she looks extremely tired. Under her brown eyes, slightly lighter than her brother’s, dark rings make her look older than she really is. Even her clothes―simple skinny blue jeans and a cream blouse―are wrinkled and not as pristine as I remember them to be the other times I’ve met with her.

  “I’m so sorry, Skye.” Her voice is wobbly which brings tears to my eyes. I can’t stand it when people are about to cry. It always makes me very emotional even if it has nothing to do with me.

  “It’s not your fault, Alana. You have nothing to do with my ex-boyfriend. It’s his fault what happened to me.” I take a deep breath, gaze at my hand still in Duke’s, our skin contrasting against each other. “If anything, I should have done something before it got so out of hand with Sean.”

  “Don’t say it’s your fault!” Duke admonishes me, his free hand now against my jaw to force me to look at his fierce eyes. “It’s not your fault, Skye.”

  It’s amazing of him to be so supportive to the point to being blind. If anything talking with Dr. Marshall is teaching me to be honest with myself even when it hurts. It does no good to ignore things or look the other way just because it’s easier. Healing is painful, but it’s also needed. I think Duke needs a reality check right now.

  “Let’s be honest, Duke.” I glance at his mother now back from the kitchen, his father with one arm around his wife’s shoulders, and Alana still standing in front of me looking very pale when she should have a natural tan like her brother thanks to their mother’s origins. “I had plenty of occasions when I could and should have gone to the police to report Sean’s behavior. I had proof of his abuse, but I was scared. It was just easier to shut up and resume my day to day life while burying my head in the sand. It’s not brave, it’s not responsible and that’s partly why it went south when it could have been prevented. I know it and you know it even if you won’t acknowledge it aloud because you don’t want to upset me or do anything that could hurt me.”

  “Honey, it’s difficult to report such violence. It’s normal that you couldn’t,” Mrs. Ashdown says softly, her low voice very soothing.

  “I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have any responsibility.”

  “Don’t even start blaming yourself for everything, Skye. I won’t let you do this again,” Duke warns me darkly, his voice shocking me by its harshness.

  “Duke,” Mr. Ashdown says loud enough to catch his son’s attention for a second, but not long enough to extinguish the fire inside of him. It’s devastating, and it’s going to burn me.

  “No! I’m not going to hear this bullshit.” He stands up and Alana moves away, biting her nails. He paces in front of me, never even sparing me a glance. He’s focusing on his heavy black boots and on the grey-brown rug. “Since I met you, you’ve always minimized Sean’s actions. I can’t stand it anymore, and the only reason I think you’re doing such a thing is because you still have some kind of twisted feelings for that piece of shit.”

  Everybody gasps and shame and anger battle inside of me. He stops, and I stand up. I’m shaking from anger. My breathing is louder than normal, but not faster. He’s towering over me, his dark eyes hard on me, but I don’t back down. “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but we’re at your parents’ to have dinner. I’m not going to argue with you in front of them, but I can already tell you that I can’t wait to see you leave me the hell alone. And don’t come with me tomorrow for my lawyer’s appointment.”

  “Skye—”

  “No! Just … let’s just have dinner,” I reply now, looking at his parents and sister, all uneasy and unsure of how to react or what to say. I don’t even know what to think of what Duke just told me. How can he think I still have feelings for Sean after everything? Why is he being so irrational? I’m fed up with all this. Fed up of the arguments, the questioning and the doubts. I’m just so fucking tired right now …

  ***

  DUKE

  She doesn’t want to look at me, even less talk to me. She’s plastered against the passenger door in the car, ready to bolt as soon as I stop the car. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, my fingers getting numb from the strength of my grasp. I keep my eyes focused on the road, careful of the other drivers passing by, but I can’t shake all the emotions warring inside me. I’m angry that she’s so fast at blaming herself, I feel guilty for my harsh reaction, I’m afraid of the way she retracts from me and I’m furious that I didn’t put that son of a bitch in the ground. I hate that she’ll keep those scars all her life, no matter how much good it does her to see that Dr. Marshall. Therapy can’t erase scars; it only makes it easier to live with them.

  I grit my teeth when all I want to say is sorry. Keeping my hands on the steering wheel, I just want to shake her and make her see how all of this isn’t her fault. On the other hand I want to pull her into me in order to keep her there, close to me and safe. Instead, I keep on driving back to campus and force myself not to beg for her to let me come with her tomorrow to see her lawyer. I know when I can’t fight. I know when fighting would only lead to more argument, so I drop it and let all these feelings, these emotions,
wear me out even more while my heart is still beating painfully hard for her.

  *

  SKYE

  “Do you need to take a break, Skye?” Mrs. Garowsky, my lawyer, asks me more kindly than I expected when I first entered her office. Alone. Yes, Duke and I didn’t exchange a word on the way back last night, and he never called me this morning. I took Kate’s car to drive to the law firm. And just after this appointment, I have to go to Dr. Marshall’s office for my next session. I think it’s great it’s scheduled today because I’m not sure I can keep this state of control for very much longer.

  “I told you everything that happened. What more do we need to talk about?” I ask with a tiny voice. I cross my legs and cross my arms over my chest. Whenever I talk about the incident, I always end up trying to make myself into a tiny ball of protectiveness. It’s difficult when in an office, facing a tough lawyer.

  “I know. You did amazing, but now we have to go through what is going to happen next.” She looks down at all the new notes she took, her light wrinkles more pronounced with the seriousness she’s showing. She taps her acrylic nails on the black desk and nods to herself. “I’ll accuse him of rape, abduction, sexual assault, attempted murder with premeditation and battery. Now we have to hope he’s not going to plead mental illness because it would mean that he’ll spend his sentence in a medical center instead of a high security prison.”

  “Wait a minute.” I uncross my arms and cover my face with both palms. It all feels so surreal. I feel like I’m in an episode of some police TV show like NCSI or Criminal Minds. But it’s reality, and it’s not as fun and distracting. “Attempted murder? Isn’t it a little too much?”

  “Not with the extent of your injuries and how he threatened you. You even told the police you thought he’d kill you.”

  “But it was—”

  “Skye, he could have killed you.” Mrs. Garowsky’s words are making me dizzy. It’s all crashing back on me. I can see again the afternoon light on Sean’s blade when he forced me in his car. I can still feel the bite of the flashlight on my head. Yes, maybe he intended to kill me once he had what he wanted. Or maybe not.

  “I … do whatever you think is best.”

  She closes the heavy file of my case. “Are you still seeing a psychologist?”

  I fight back the dizziness and focus on her face. She looks, not concerned, but rather questioning me. “I am. And I need to go. I have an appointment in twenty minutes, and it’s on the other side of the city.” I stand up without waiting for anything more. I shake her hand without really realizing it and leave the building deep in thought.

  I don’t know why, but for some reason after the time I spent at the hospital, I convinced myself he wouldn’t have killed me. Maybe Duke was right. Maybe I was again minimizing Sean’s actions and attacks on me. What does that really mean? I can’t possibly still care about him either way. It’s just not possible, not for any sane person. Maybe that’s what I should talk about with Dr. Marshall because maybe I’m not as normal as I want to think I am.

  ***

  DUKE

  “And you agreed not to go?’’Derek shakes his head and frowns at me. “It doesn’t sound like you.’’

  Leaning back in the uncomfortable chair of the coffee house, I finish my third Espresso. Soon, I’m going to be unable to keep a tight leash on my emotions, and at that point things will go awry.

  “Last night she told me not to come, and after that she didn’t even spare me a glance.’’

  “You’re a fucker.’’Derek sighs and sips his coffee, his eyes going back and forth to me and his laptop. “You know she needs you. Think for a minute instead of playing the wounded ego card.’’

  “What’s your issue, huh?’’ I lean over the table and push down the top lid of his old laptop. “If you have something to say, it’s now or never,’’ I growl out, ready to swing at my best friend, something I’ve never felt like doing.

  He crosses his arms and glares at me some more. “I see what you’re doing, Duke. Don’t mess up this relationship because you’re afraid. Skye needs somebody strong to go through this with her.’’

  I massage my neck and stand up, my eyes locked on his. “I don’t need my best friend to give me shit, Derek. My life is complicated enough as it is.’’

  “Then do right by her. Be a man, Duke. We have all been dealt a shitty hand.’’

  I scowl and turn my back on him, swaggering out of the busy coffee house and away from my best friend who knows me all too well. My feet are eating the concrete, and I have not a clue where I’m going. In fact, I have nowhere to go. I was supposed to be with Skye, holding her hand while she goes through another difficult time facing her lawyer.

  Somebody needs to give me an award for the best boyfriend. Yeah, I’m a fucking catch.

  I drive away my girl, I don’t support her when she needs me the most and I’ve never succeeded in protecting her.

  Fucking is easy, dating is not. I will never regret dating Skye because she’s my damn haven, but still. Dating is fucking hard, and all this mess doesn’t help. If only she’d met me in high school …things would have been easier because I was laid back. I didn’t have all these issues back then. I didn’t feel like running whenever things got tough, and I didn’t think about bailing. Right now, I have to face it.

  Sometimes, I want to bail and I loath myself for it.

  *

  SKYE

  I don’t know how I managed to be in Dr. Marshall’s waiting room, but I am. I drove here like a robot, took the elevator like a robot and now I’m waiting to see his door open for me. I never thought I’d need to see him that much. And It’s quite disturbing after the talk I had with Kate the other day, but right now it’s not important. It’s not important when I feel like I’m about to explode.

  For the very first time since I met Duke, I can’t turn to him for comfort, reassurance or just for his presence. I know if I go and see him like this, he’d open his arms for me, but I don’t want our relationship to revolve around my issues. It’d be too easy to go to him when I’m this bad because I know he’d forget our argument in a heartbeat just to be with me when I need him. It’s amazing of him, but it shows how our relationship has been biased from the very beginning.

  The door opens on Dr. Marshall wearing a black dress shirt and equally black slacks, making his blue eyes pop even more than usual and his fair hair looking more vibrant. His welcoming smile becomes more forced when he takes me in as I walk up to him with my whole body still shaking beyond my control.

  He moves out of my way and follows me inside his office without a word. I know he’s not going to open his mouth until I do, but I don’t really know how to put into words what I feel. This wake up call in Mrs. Garowsky’s office is messing with my head because I never realized I was still trapped in this weird vicious circle Sean created for us. I really thought I just had to heal from what he did to me, not heal from my own behavior. Having to re-learn everything makes me doubt about everything in turn.

  I shake my head and try to grab my sleeves, but I don’t have any. I miss my too large shirts all of a sudden which it makes me angry. How many times will I regress? How many times will I act like I’m the same poor little Skye?

  “I had my appointment with my lawyer.”

  Dr. Marshall nods. I was expecting a kind word or something, but he keeps quiet, like he’s waiting for me to tell him something meaningful. My brain is in shut down. There’s nothing in there. Everything is in the tightness I feel in my chest, the loud beating of my heart I hear in my ears, the hole in my stomach and the shaking of my body. Nothing is carefully thought out, but everything is bottled up in my body, ready to explode.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me some questions?” I finally blurt after almost five minutes of silence during which we looked at each other without blinking.

  “Since you look so agitated, I assume it didn’t go well. Do you want to talk about it?” he asks in turn with his usual soft voice,
never a word above the other. I can’t even tell if he’s annoyed by my agitation or not. Like always, I can’t read this man.

  “It’s not that it didn’t go well.” I look out of the window at the sun lighting all of Seattle, and I’m craving the sweet heat of its rays on my skin and over my clothes. I have always liked to feel the sun on my skin, making everything lighter even for just a few minutes. “I guess it made me realize that I blocked out the fact that Sean would and could have killed me. I didn’t even realize that I, once again, minimized some parts of what happened with him.” I sigh and look back at Dr. Marshall who is looking at me intently.

  “That’s a big step if you acknowledge this part. It’s really good, Skye.”

  “So why is it so painful?” I level down my eyes, feeling stupid with my teary eyes and my small breathy voice just above a whisper.

  “Because you’re not beating around the bush anymore. You’re going straight toward what is the most painful.”

  I mull over his words and think again about what Duke told me last night. “Do you think I still have some feelings for Sean?”

  Dr. Marshall frowns and points at me. “You’re the only one who can answer this question. Why are you asking me this?”

  “Duke and I had a fight last night at his parents’ home … in front of them.”

  “Over Sean?”

  I nod and fish for my cell phone in my pocket. It’s not ringing, but I need something in my hands. Or maybe it’s just because I still hope to have some news from Duke without seeking it out myself.

  “Duke thinks I still feel something for Sean if I’m always so prone to minimize his actions toward me. I disagreed, and it went from bad to awful. We didn’t exchange a word on the way to campus, and he didn’t call me because I … I messed up. I told him I didn’t want him with me for my appointment with Mrs. Garowsky.”

  “You were alone,” he says under his breath like he’s talking to himself and what he’s thinking doesn’t seem to please him all that much. I have never seen him frown like this.