With a deep breath, I enter her room and quietly walk up to her bed. I breathe a little easier since they aren’t tangled together. One quick shake to her shoulder wakes Idaline up. Her smile eases the knot in my gut as she carefully sits up.
“Saying goodbye?” she whispers, causing me to nod. She glances over at Justin. “He doesn’t think I should let you come back.” And my knot twists tight again.
“Do what’s best for you and your relationship, Idaline,” I whisper.
She frowns and shakes her head. “I haven’t been your best friend for twelve years to abandon you because a boyfriend told me to. I’ll figure something out.”
No, she won’t because I won’t ask anymore. I won’t stand in the way of Idaline’s happiness. I won’t allow her to make the decision when it appears she’ll choose the wrong one. “I should go,” I say quietly. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
Idaline holds out her arms and I give her a hug, kissing her cheek. It’s officially time to go and I leave knowing it’s likely the last time I’ll see Idaline for a long time.
Lila is asleep when I get to the apartment. As quietly as I can, I get ready for work. But before I can leave, I stop short for the second time today. There’s an open pack of cigarettes on the dining table with a lighter lying next to it. I snatch it and see that two are missing. She better not be smoking. Either she is, or she’s had someone over. Just in case it’s her, I take the pack with me.
Who knew having a pack of cigarettes with me would be just as tempting as thinking about alcohol and wanting it? Cigarettes aren’t nearly as troublesome, even though it’s still an unhealthy addiction I don’t need. But one cigarette won’t send me spiraling like one shot of tequila will. That pack burns a hole in my pocket all fucking day.
On my lunch break, I take a deep breath before going inside the apartment. Thanks to spending so much money on hotels lately, it would be in my best interest to eat at home as often as I can instead of eating out. Unfortunately, it means I have to see Lila. She’s seated at the table, already eating when I walk into the apartment.
“Hey, did you take my pack of cigarettes this morning?” she asks.
“You don’t need to smoke while you’re pregnant with my baby.” I begin to fix myself a sandwich.
“One or two a day won’t hurt him.”
“Yes, it will.” I don’t know what exactly smoking will or won’t do to my baby, but I know that they advise women against smoking while they’re pregnant and that’s enough for me. “Why are you smoking anyway?” I sit at the table with her. “You never did before.”
“I can’t drink and I have to relieve stress somehow.”
My gaze snaps to hers. “Stress? What stress?” It takes everything I have not to ask that in a way that will piss her off.
“Like how you always leave when we get into arguments.”
“I leave? You kick me out, Lila. You left me at the fucking doctor’s office. I wouldn’t leave if you didn’t demand I get out. Half the time you threaten to call the cops on me if I don’t leave. If that’s stressing you out, quit telling me to go.”
Lila ignores that. “And we have to figure out a name, babe.”
“His name is Sawyer Nash Hart.”
Surprise flickers over her features. “You’ve found a name already?”
“Yep.” I take another bite of my sandwich. “Like it?” I don’t really care, and she did say it was my decision, but it is her baby too, unfortunately.
“I don’t know yet.” There’s a frown on her face, so I’m guessing it’s a no.
“Well, you told me I could pick his name and I have, so you don’t have to stress about that anymore. What else?”
“I’m already over this whole being pregnant thing.” One hand goes to her belly.
Laughter bursts free. “Sorry, babe. There’s still about five months to go. You made sure you got this baby, so better strap down and endure what you signed up for.”
Her eyes narrow at me, but she doesn’t say anything. At least she doesn’t deny it. “Give me the cigarettes back.”
I exhale hard. She’s fishin’ for a fight now. Things were going decent until I had to point out she did her best to get pregnant on purpose. Guess I’ll never learn. “I’m not giving them to you. You’re not allowed to smoke. You’re not harming Sawyer.” Maybe if I use his name, it’ll make him even more real to her and she won’t fight me on this. And then I say words that will damn me for far longer than I can imagine. “Whatever you want me to do to keep you from smoking and anything else I don’t like, I’ll do.”
Lila smirks, which turns into a full-blown grin. “That slut you have in South Carolina?” My mouth opens to object. “Don’t try to deny it, FC. I followed you down there yesterday and saw her run to you like you’re in some romantic movie. Get rid of her once and for all or get the fuck out of my apartment and I’ll make sure you never see your son.” She even pulls her phone out and shows me pictures she took of Idaline running toward me and our embrace. There’s even some of us walking to her door. “You want me to make sure I do my part for this baby, then get rid of her. And I want the lock off your phone, so I can know for sure, any time I want to look.”
If my glare could kill, Lila would be in hell already. I stand to throw what’s left of my sandwich in the trash. “I’m going to work. I’ll end the friendship before I get home.” She snorts when I say friendship. She thinks I’m cheating on her and I’m not. There was one kiss, but that’s it. I have time before I have to officially clock back in, so I pull the shittiest move possible and I text Idaline.
If I call her, she’ll have questions. Questions I can’t answer. I thought I hated Lila before, but nope. My hatred for her is at an all-time high now.
But then, a quick solution hits me and I call Idaline.
“FC, hey. I don’t have much time left before I have to get back to work.”
“That’s fine. I only have a minute. I can’t explain and I won’t be able to, but I won’t be able to come back and see you or talk to you through my phone anymore. I guess Justin and Grandpa McAllister will get what they want after all.”
Idaline makes a sharp, small gasp. “What?”
“But we can write letters. It’s that or nothing.”
“Why would it be that or nothing?”
“I can’t explain, Idaline,” I tell her quietly. “But for a while, if we want to keep talking, that’s the only way I can do it. Under no circumstance should you call or text me.” I can’t stand telling her that because what if there’s an emergency and she needs me? Thanks to my bitch of a girlfriend, I can’t go to her.
Idaline has the same thought. “But what if I need you right away? I can’t call?”
My soul whimpers and dies a little as I give her the only answer I can. “You have your family and Justin close by.”
“They aren’t you, FC,” she whispers, her voice cracking.
“I’m sorry, Idaline. I really am, but I’m between hell and a hard place. There’s nothing I can do right now.”
She sighs. “Okay. I’m writing a letter tonight then.”
I smile. “I can’t wait to get it.”
We say a quick goodbye and hang up. My only lifeline to her now is letters. I can’t help but wonder how long before Lila discovers my latest attempt to keep in contact with her and tries to destroy that too. The day I can’t talk to Idaline will be the day my soul dies.
Well, maybe not completely. I do have Sawyer to keep me powering through. He’s what’s most important right now. He has to be. Otherwise, everything I’m doing means nothing. I have to end up with full custody of him. That’s what’s best for him and nothing less will do.
After work, my mom calls to check on me, which is part of our new routine. Sometimes it’s my dad, but most of the time, it’s my mom.
“How are things going?”
“Getting harder, it seems.” My mind is still on Idaline.
Mom sighs. “I’m so sorry, FC. Just a few
more months and we can get the process started officially.”
“I know.”
“I do have good news for you.” She waits for me to ask what, but I can’t imagine what kind of good news she could possibly have. When I don’t respond, she says, “Everything you’ll need for the baby, we’ll have for you. We already have a crib and some other essentials. Your baby boy will be taken care of when you do leave her.”
“Thanks, Mom. He has a name,” I share, feeling a bit overwhelmed by their support and all they’ve done for me so far.
“Oh? Already?”
“Yeah. I decided on Sawyer Nash. Do you like it?”
She’s quiet for only a moment. “Sawyer Nash Hart,” she says quietly. “Yes, I do believe I like it. I’ll be sure to tell the rest of the family. Do you plan to call him Sawyer Nash or just Sawyer? It’ll be hard to reprimand him if you start off by calling him Sawyer Nash. You always knew when I was serious when I threw in your middle name.”
I laugh. “I knew you were serious any time you used my name, Mom. I’ll see what feels right when I meet the little guy.”
“You still sound so upset, FC. What happened?”
I haven’t brought up Idaline to my parents in twelve years since we first did the assignment. Would they even remember her? Should I tell them?
“FC?” Mom questions again.
“Do you remember Idaline McAllister?” I hold my breath to see if she recalls her by name alone. Back when we were first writing one another, I talked freely about her; I was too excited about this new friendship not to.
I can imagine my mom frowning, her brows furrowing as she tries to place the name with a face she’s never seen. Mom’s always been better with faces. “Wait a minute,” she says. “Do you mean that girl who was your pen pal in school?”
“Yeah.” And everything comes pouring out. How we never stopped talking. How we finally met. The kiss. How Idaline believes in soulmates. How Lila found out about me going there instead of to a hotel and now demands that I stop talking to her because she believes I’m cheating on her. I’ve lost my best friend except for when we write to one another and my soul, it already aches from the loss. My lifeline, my heartbeat, my light at the end of the tunnel has dimmed so much that I don’t know if it’s real or if I’m hallucinating.
“Oh, FC,” Mom says quietly with so much sorrow in her voice. “You sound like…” Her voice trails off.
“What?”
“Like you’ve lost the love of your life. If you feel that way about Idaline, why would you ever get together with Lila or anyone else?”
As I now sit in the parking lot of our complex, I hate my answer. I hate for being foolish and stupid and safe. “I don’t know how she feels. I thought we were just best friends.” I run a hand over my face. “It doesn’t matter now. I need to focus on Sawyer and Idaline has a boyfriend she seems to be happy with anyway. Look, I’m home and if I don’t go on up, tonight will be even worse. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
She tells me to be strong, call her if I need her, and then we hang up. With a deep breath, I make my way inside. Lila has dinner ready, but she holds her hand out expectantly when I get close.
“What?” I ask.
“Your phone. I want to see it.”
What’s the point in fighting her anymore? If I do, she’s admitted she’ll keep me from my son and who knows if she’ll do something to actually harm him. I take my phone out and remove my passcodes. I thought I was in hell before, but my gut tells me things are about to get a hell of a lot worse.
“Who was she?” Lila asks once I’ve sat down and she’s satisfied that I haven’t been in contact with her today.
“An old friend. She let me crash at her place to save me money, considering I’m kicked out frequently and the only source of income around here. I slept on her couch. If you’d have stayed longer, you would’ve seen her boyfriend coming over to spend the night with her. I ain’t cheating on you.”
Her narrowed eyes tell me she doesn’t believe the truth I just told her. I wish I could say that’s her problem, but I know it’ll be my issue to deal with. As soon as we finish dinner, there’s a knock on the door. Lila rushes to answer. My stomach churns and twists into knots as her friends walk in. Every single one of them carrying a bottle of alcohol. We’ve got a kid on the way; we don’t need to be the party pad anymore.
I grab our empty plates, carry them to the kitchen, and slowly wash the dishes to stay away from temptation for as long as I possibly can. Music plays and it takes all of ten minutes for the noise to irritate me. Lila walks in and grins as I’m almost done.
“Aw, thanks, babe.” She kisses my cheek.
“You’re welcome,” I reply, though my doing this doesn’t have a damn thing to do with helping her out. “We don’t need to have parties anymore,” I quietly add. “That won’t work once Sawyer gets here. People can come over, but they don’t need to be drinking,” my hand falters on a dish as I smell marijuana, “or smoking. You probably don’t even need to inhale that shit. We’re being better, remember?”
One eyebrow rises. “Are you lecturing me, FC?”
“No.” I place the last dish in the rack to dry. “I’m going outside to the staircase. I don’t want to be around this shit anymore.” Before she can ask, I hand her my phone and head to the door.
“We have company!” she shouts at my back.
Yeah, company I don’t want. These are her friends anyway. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. If I stay, my chances of relapsing are nearly certain. If I leave, even to the stairway, she’ll probably be ready to beat the shit out of me when they leave, if she waits that long. But for Sawyer, she can do her best attacking me because I can’t risk relapsing again.
The noise level quietens drastically once I step outside and close the door behind me. I walk down the hallway a bit, past the elevators, past the main stairway, and down to another set of stairs that aren’t used as often. What I should do is sneak down to my car, write about today’s events so far, and maybe even write a letter to Idaline.
But for now, I’ll enjoy the peace and quiet because there’s no chance it’ll last long.
I drop my letter to FC in the mail and return to my bed, thankful I called in sick today. I worried entirely too much about the fact that he doesn’t want me to use my phone to contact him anymore. Justin even stayed over after our date, which was an utter disaster. Counting the number of panic attacks I had last night makes anxiety swell within me all over again.
My first one was small, if attacks can be categorized that way. Justin asked if I would be up for having dinner with his parents. Sure, it’s been four months, but I’m not sure I’m ready for that. That’s one of the reasons I declined to go on vacation with him; his family would be there. That’s a huge step and my soul urges me to run far far away.
But my soul needs to go to hell. The damn thing is still stuck on FC and it’s not helping me out any.
My second attack didn’t seem to have a cause. At least, not one I could accurately pinpoint. By the time we got back to my apartment, it was all I could do to change and fall into my bed.
And the third was a motherfucker. I was lying in bed with Justin’s arms around me, in that space where I’m almost asleep, but semi-aware. My thoughts drifted to my conversation with FC. He sounded apologetic, but at the same time, it was as if there was no emotion coming from him at all. Pain stabbed me in the chest as my heartbeat took off as if it needed to build up to a high enough tempo to race right of of my chest. My hands shook hard enough to get Justin’s attention just as my breathing turned into short gasps. When the tingling started in my fingers, I knew it was officially game over.
Justin kept talking to me, but I never heard a word. All I could hear was FC saying he was sorry and then hurrying to tell me goodbye so he could hang up. My chest hurt so bad, I wasn’t sure if I was having a heart attack or if my heart was breaking at finally realizing what it would never have. At some point,
I began to cry. I don’t even know how the attack ended. One minute FC was running through my thoughts and the next, I was tossing and turning in a restless sleep until I woke up this morning.
“Do you want breakfast?” Justin asks as I pull the blankets up to my chin. He doesn’t go into work until tonight and I apparently scared him enough last night that he’s spending the day with me.
“I’m not hungry.” All I want is more sleep.
He kisses my shoulder and settles in behind me with an arm over my waist. “I don’t know what you need, but I’m here. Don’t forget that, okay?”
I grab his hand and squeeze in appreciation.
When I awake hours later, I’m semi-rejuvenated and hungry. Rolling over, I discover Justin is no longer in bed with me.
“Justin?” I call out. I relax at hearing footsteps and seeing him walk into my room. “You’re still here.”
“Yeah. I’ve been cooking dinner.”
Dinner? I glance at my clock. I slept all day! Wait. “You need to leave! You’ll be late for work,” I tell him.
Justin shakes his head. “I called in earlier to see if I could get someone to switch shifts with me.”
“You don’t have to stay here with me.”
He walks over and holds out his hand. “You’ve had me worried. It’s either worry about you here or on the job and I’d rather do it here. Come on; let’s eat.”
I hug him when I stand. “I’m glad you’re here, even though you really didn’t have to stay.”
“We’re in this together, sweetheart.”
I grab my phone and check it out of habit. Nothing, not that I should be surprised.
“Expecting to hear from someone?” Justin asks as we walk to the kitchen. “You look upset that it hasn’t gone off.”
“No and sort of.”
He raises an eyebrow for me to explain as we sit down at my already set table.
“FC said we can only write letters now; that’s what I mailed this morning, a letter to him. I don’t know why, though. All he would say is that under no circumstance can we talk over the phone. He said he couldn’t explain and that he was between hell and a hard place.”
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