by Claire Adams
I nodded along and listened to everything until she started asking why I was so distant. She wanted to know why I didn’t call her and spend all night on the phone with her, and why she hadn’t seen me all week. I wasn’t even trying to avoid her.
Nothing I said was enough. I’d concede every single step of the way, and it wasn’t just empty promises. She had me second guessing myself. When she moved on to my faults and how I should dress differently, I snapped and told her that I never wanted to see her again. She flew across the table with her nails outstretched like claws. I felt terrible. She was sobbing and begging me when I walked away, and she didn’t stop.
She harassed the gate guards in front of my house. She looked up all the board members at my company and called to harass them about me. She even tried to strangle my receptionist in the parking lot. As far as she was concerned, I was the one, and she was entitled to me, just like she was entitled to everything else.
People that use other people aren’t necessarily crazy. Often, they’re saner than most. They’d have to be to move through the world without getting found out. Becky was sloppy. She mixed her business and her personal life in the worst kind of way. She didn’t know the difference. She was delusional.
Anyone that buys into their own lies is doing so because they’re mentally ill. She didn’t really care about me, just what she saw in me. So, she lied to herself to reinforce our abusive relationship, just like any good codependent. That was Becky. She was out of her mind.
I never once cheated on her. I did without if I could because I thought she was worth the trouble. I was fair with her. I never cheated on her like her other boyfriends, and I never once laid a hand on her. She was just resentful because I wouldn’t put up with her crap. Now, Mercedes was gone, and I laid in bed, hiding underneath the covers while I stared at my phone.
I had pictures of her in her dress, the white and red masterpiece. Her hair, done up by a celebrity stylist, framed her amazing face. She was the most beautiful person I’d ever met in my entire life, inside and out. Her looks had nothing to do with it. It was her personality. She dedicated herself to her family, so much so that she was willing to sell herself to help them pay their bills.
Most children would’ve run away a long time ago. They had their own lives to live, and too many complexes to stick around. Mercedes wasn’t like that. She wasn’t selfish. She was compassionate and honorable. She made her father’s food, took him to his appointments, and helped him get around. Who does that for their parents?
She was willing to do anything to save her father. She’d have sold her body, washed mountains of dishes, and sat through millions of customer complaints, all because she loved somebody.
I remembered the way she looked when she saw me donate to the Rose Foundation. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen, watching her break down. The depth of her love for her family was inspirational.
I could learn so much from her—dedication, honor, sacrifice. She could’ve helped me become a better person. I could’ve helped her, too. Her father’s bills were one thing; it was a huge help, but I could change her world.
She didn't have to slave away for nothing. She could spend her time pursuing her ambitions without ever having to worry about whether or not she could eat or have a place to live. None of the daily struggles people went through would apply to her or her family. I wasn’t just mourning my relationship with Mercedes. I was mourning the life she could’ve had.
The next morning, after the event, I called Mercedes as soon as I got up. The first call just rang and rang. Then, she ignored me. After that, my calls went straight to voicemail. She had me blocked. I tried texting her easy stuff like, how are you, and good morning, but that didn’t work either.
I thought that she was just avoiding me after what happened and didn’t want to deal with things, so I let her be. I kept my phone in my pocket and never once took it out unless it made a noise. Every time it went off, I snatched it right up, certain that it was her.
It wasn’t.
I had to distract myself. I was losing my mind. I went to the gym and worked out until I couldn’t breathe any longer. When I got out, the sun was setting, and she still hadn’t called. I was certain that it would be soon. It was starting to get late, and there was no way she’d ignore me for a whole day.
I waited as long as I could before I called her. My number was still blocked, and she wouldn’t answer any of my messages. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t function. She was everywhere. Her scent was in the air; her sweat was in the sheets, and in the dust on the walls. Even the couch, where we’d first made love, was enough to set me off.
I couldn’t walk around the house and do nothing. I had to find some peace, but there was no relief from this, not without her. So I changed the sheets on my bed and retreated underneath the covers. The next day, I called her first thing in the morning, thinking that she’d answer now that she’d had some time. She didn’t.
There was no point in trying to call or message now. I was just making myself look desperate, and in all honesty, I was. I’d never been that guy before. I never wanted anyone, never. It was all about gratification, even with Becky. But with Mercedes, I fell, and I fell hard. I couldn’t even get off the bed.
I took another sleeping pill. I awoke to the sound of my phone ringing. I threw the covers off. This was it. It had to be. She wouldn’t wait this long. I snatched my phone off the nightstand and looked at who was calling. It was Samantha, of all fucking people. I didn’t bother answering. I threw the fucking phone against the wall.
I slid back into bed and took another sleeping pill. I lost track of time. One night faded into another. Every morning was a reminder she was gone, and every single time I threw off that blanket was another time I’d have to get out of bed without her.
I had to accept it, but I couldn’t. It was the only thing in my life that mattered. I blew off work. I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t even face myself. Instead, I huddled in bed and stared at the phone. I went through all of our messages, our pictures, even my call log, like a mother that couldn’t leave her dead child’s room.
The picture I stared at disappeared, replaced by a call notification. It was Andrew. The last thing I wanted to do was go out and get drunk. I’d just end up getting upset and making things worse. I didn’t want to see what worse looked like.
Andrew called back again, and I ignored the call again. When he called after that, I blocked his number, but that didn’t stop me from having to see the voicemail notifications. He called six times before I decided to call him back.
“Hello?” he said, with an edge to his voice.
“What do you think you’re doing, calling me like a crazy person?”
“A woman named Samantha at your office called me. She wanted me to do a wellness check. Apparently, nobody has seen or heard from you since Friday. What the hell happened?”
I sighed. “It’s nothing.”
“Fine, you don’t want to talk about it? That’s okay. But don’t make me leave empty-handed. Come out with me. It’ll do you some good.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Look, whatever this is, it was enough to make you skip work. You don’t do that, ever. Now I’m starting to worry, and I know that staying in will just make things worse.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“Shit, Jake. Seriously. What is wrong with you?”
“I don’t know,” I lied.
“You’re coming out with me. No arguments. I’m outside.”
“They let you in?” I threw the blanket off and stood up. “Who did that?”
“Couldn’t say.”
“My staff breached the security of my private home.”
“Because they’re scared shitless, and they’re worried. And I’m your goddamn brother. Not some psycho killer. So relax. Come on. Get ready.”
“Fine.” I hung up and jumped into the shower.
When I got out, I w
iped the fog off the mirror and took a look at myself. My face sagged, and a thin beard had sprouted on my face. I never let my facial hair grow. It made me look like a hobo, and that’s exactly how I felt. Without Mercedes, I didn’t feel at home, even in my own house.
Andrew was waiting in the living room when I walked in. Normally, I would’ve hunted down and fired whoever did that, but dammit, they were right. It was time to accept that Mercedes was gone and move on. I didn’t like thinking that, not even in my head. It was too painful. But the truth kept slapping me in the face. He was just the messenger.
“You look terrible.” Andrew got off the couch and walked up to where I stood in the foyer, leaning against the bannister.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s cool,” he said and threw up his hands.
“Don’t bullshit me, Andrew. I mean it, and I’m not going to let you take me out and get me drunk so you can get me to talk. No alcohol, and no fucking interrogation.”
“You want ice cream? I know you can’t turn that down.”
“Do I look like I want to leave the house right now?”
“What car should we take?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“You’ve obviously lost your mind.” Andrew looked me up and down, tearing through what little composure I had. I shrank back. “Tell me what happened, Jake?”
“Don’t come at me like this.”
He looked right at me and took a step closer. “Something is seriously wrong with you.”
“Something is going to be wrong with you if you don’t stop. I’m not into this. Let’s go.” I led him into the garage and picked a car. “You want to drive?” I motioned towards the big, black sedan.
“Really?”
“Yeah, why not?”
Andrew started to walk around the driver’s side of the car. Then he stopped and looked up at me. “It’s almost like you…”
“Like I what?” I snapped.
“Like you… never mind.”
I threw him the keys, and he got in. The drive was short and tense. Andrew made a big deal about being allowed to drive the car. Then he hit the accelerator and realized that I gave him a soccer mom engine. He expected me to let him drive something nice with a turbocharged engine and a sweet stick. I wasn’t about to step outside in a car that brought unwanted attention.
I figured he’d be happy, but he wasn’t. He tensed up, and we both went quiet while I listened to the sound of his heavy breathing. Several times, he looked at me like he was ready to say something. I kept my eyes out the window and watched as the city passed by.
When we got to Frank’s, Andrew had to get the salted caramel. He noticed me standing behind him with my arms folded when he got it, but he didn’t say anything until we walked out to the back patio, where he tore into his cone.
“What’s your deal? I’m tired of this crap.”
“That’s the only reason you came here. You just want to see me fucking squirm. Well, you know what, you disgusting piece of shit? I won’t allow it. I should leave you here.” I stood up with my chest puffed out.
“Sit down.”
“No, you hate me. You’ve always hated me, you and your wife both. The only reason you talk to me is so you can see me fail, and it’s not because I’ve done anything wrong. It’s because your ass is jealous because I’m rich. You’re just like everyone else.”
“You think it’s because of the money?” Andrew was on his feet and in my face.
“Yeah, I do, and I know about Elizabeth.” He shook his head like he was ready to punch me. “She’s been threatening to leave your ass since before Haylie was born, because you’re too lazy to get a real job.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, because I’m a fucking man, and you’re an overgrown child sitting behind a computer staring at all the women you can’t have.”
Andrew’s face reddened in anger. “Why were you in the bathroom for like an hour at my barbecue with your girlfriend? Why do you always have a fucking boner? You know why we hate you?”
I clenched my fists.
“Because you don’t believe in love,” he said.
“Yes, I do.” I gripped the table so hard my knuckles were white.
“Then how come every girl I’ve seen you with has a fake pair of tits and a bad facelift? You think I don’t know what you do? Everyone knows that you pay women to have sex with you, and you’ve been doing it for years. You’re sick, Jake. You could have trillions of dollars, and every single car in the world, and that still won’t make up for the fact that you’re a self-centered pervert that’s incapable of loving anyone other than yourself.”
I threw a right hook straight at his nose and winced at the sound of the bone cracking. He stumbled backward, and he collapsed in his seat. He cradled his nose while I stood there trembling. I couldn’t look at him, so I turned around and walked back into the ice cream parlor to get some napkins.
His face and hands were covered in red when I walked out and threw the napkins on the table. “I am not incapable of love. You can find your own fucking way home after that shit. And I’m having your car towed, just for fun.” I turned around to walk off. “And you don’t know what I’ve been through, Andrew. You don’t have any right to judge me.”
“Nothing did this to you, Jake. You’re a predator. Not a fucking victim.”
“I am not a predator! It’s that bitch, Mildred.” A wail erupted from my throat. “She did this to me.”
“Mildred? Like, Mildred Mildred? The babysitter?”
I gave him a dangerous look.
“Jake… You’re not saying…” He went silent.
“Yeah, I’m fucking saying. The fuck else did you think it was?”
“She did something to you?” His voice was choked with emotion.
“That’s all you get. After all these years of nothing but resentment and scrutiny. Motherfucker, you want to call me a predator?”
“I was wrong. We were all wrong. Don’t listen to anything they say. If this is what she did to you, then yes. You are a victim in the worst possible way, and I cannot apologize enough for the things we’ve all said.”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t mean jack shit now, does it?”
“Then I’ll defend you.”
“I’m not talking about the family,” I raged.
“Oh? Then what?”
“What do you think, man? She ran off. She won’t answer any of my calls or texts. Mercedes is gone.”
“Mercedes? What happened to Maria?”
“Her name is Mercedes.” I took a seat across from Andrew. “Her hooker name was Maria.”
“You fell in love with a hooker.” Andrew laughed.
“Hey, screw you. You don’t know anything about this crap. I’d never get with a hooker; not like you mean. She joined an escort service thinking that it was a courier service. She had no idea what she was getting into. I was her first trick—ever. She didn’t belong. She didn’t have surgery or a crack pipe in her bag. She was a good woman in a bad situation, and she never wanted me to pay her. She just wanted to be around me, and I wanted to be around her. So I stuck with her for a while, and it just happened.”
“You took her to my house.”
“Have you ever knowingly laid eyes on a hooker, Andrew?”
He didn’t respond, which meant yes.
“So you’ve seen what they’re like. They’re party girls that think about nothing but cock and drugs. I don’t even like letting them in my home. I certainly wouldn’t bring one to your house.”
“It’s still kind of weird.”
“Yeah, well, you guys were screwing with me, so you deserve it.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “Why did she leave you?”
“Because she met Becky.”
“Who’s Becky?”
“The only other person I’ve tried to be with. It was years ago, when I was younger. She was a walking stereotype, the exact opposite of everything Mercedes i
s.”
“What’d you do to her?”
“I was the richest guy she ever met, and I broke up with her.”
Andrew laughed. “The women you deal with are probably a nightmare.”
“They are. That’s why I liked Mercedes so much. I took her to a famous designer to have a gown made, and the woman was begging her to model for her.” I laughed. “And Mercedes was completely convinced that she was ugly. She refused to believe that she was pretty enough to be a model.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and you have no idea how refreshing that is, Andrew. The women I deal with have such big heads; it’s not even funny. Modesty to them is a thong.”
“That’s sick.”
“But it’s not just that. She’s so dedicated to her family. The only reason she took the job was because her father has cancer, and she’s staying with her parents to take care of him.”
“What did that girl, Becky, do? I don’t get it. She really liked you, Jake.”
“Mercedes won’t tell me what’s going through her head.”
“You need to find out.”
“It’s too late.”
“Maybe so, but that girl really liked you. You have never in your entire life, not once, felt this way. We both know that. If you let this go, you will regret it the rest of your life.”
I pursed my lips. “I know you’re right, but I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“You’ll figure it out. You have to. This is your chance, Jake. You probably won’t get another.”
“I don’t even know if I have a chance, but I’m sure as fuck going to try.”
“Good,” Andrew said.
“What about you? What are you going to do about Elizabeth?”
“I don’t know,” he said, sighing. “You might have a chance, but with Elizabeth, there’s so much there, and she won’t talk. She just shuts down, or starts screaming every time I try to talk to her.”