by Leanne Davis
I somehow… eventually fall asleep.
Chapter 2
KAEJA
His eyelids finally stay shut. My head falls back on the pillow and I let out a long breath. I can finally stop talking. It’s closer to morning than night. I never thought he would succumb to his body’s demands. He was dying. Going bat crazy if he couldn’t sleep. He is running on autopilot. Obsessing. Hurting. Grieving. Trying to undo all the hurt and shock he feels.
I know. I kind of feel that way too. I sigh as I heave myself off the bed. I didn’t expect I’d end up lying in bed with Ireena’s husband. No. Not something I need to do. But he was desperate. Unable to simply “be” and he needed me. His asking me to stay was the act of a desperate man afraid to be alone with his thoughts, not a man remotely cognizant of the woman beside him.
He’s lying flat on his back. His eyes are closed and his face slack. His mouth opens and I hear the air escape. I tuck the covers gently around him to keep him covered. I can’t linger. I can’t glance at him or sleep near him.
I don’t even like him.
I did. A long time ago… not in time, but in life-changing events. Many critical events ago, I had a raging crush on Damion Willapana. Then he had sex with my best friend before stealing his identical twin brother’s girlfriend. Unlike the rest of the world, I blamed him directly. Not Ireena. Well, I blamed her too. I got raging mad at her first. We didn’t talk for two full weeks. I was so disgusted by how she handled the transition from Devon to Damion. She knew I disapproved.
She met Devon through a mutual friend they shared. Claudia Tamasy was a school friend of ours and a longtime friend of the twins. She introduced Devon to Ireena. They started dating and at some point, I was invited to meet him and his brother, Damion. Almost five years ago now. I liked Damion. We all hit it off as friends. I hung around them on and off for a while and yeah, he’s an attractive guy. He works a physical job and has the body to show for it. He was easy to be around, quiet and intense, so my feelings grew.
I never told Ireena. Despite harboring the crush, I wasn’t really looking for romance. I was too busy working on the small business I started in graphic design. After they began dating, Damion became as he should: my friend’s baby daddy and husband.
Now? He’s the only one who knows the person we lost in Ireena.
It gives us a pretty powerful connection.
I walk out of my bedroom and go down the short hallway. The two small bedrooms barely have enough room to contain a single bed, nightstand, dresser or desk. I glance in. Dayshia is curled on her side, sound asleep still. I press my lips; she is so small to be motherless. The weight of her loss makes tears prick my eyes… again. I go towards the other bedroom where I have a small yoga studio set up. I spread my mat out. Starting in child’s pose, I proceed through several positions, holding them extra long. I allow the quiet to fill my brain and displace all the trauma that my emotions are creating.
My routine doesn’t stop the damn tears from falling. I bend down and the tears freely run off my cheeks and nose. I can’t help it. Ireena is dead. I can’t handle the pain. She was abrasive and harsh to the outside world. Bullied her entire life by parents who were uncaring and ungrateful for her, she eventually learned how to forge a kind of armor to prevent anyone from ever touching her. Except me. Then finally, Damion, and last of all, Dayshia.
She had reasons for surrounding her soul with an impenetrable fortress. I knew those reasons, and in many ways, we shared them. I just have a much more ordinary personality. I don’t swing to extremes as Ireena does—did. Damn. I still can’t get that into my head.
I can’t believe she’s gone from my life.
What will I do without her?
There are so few people I allow to get close to me for various reasons that only she knew. She understood. She protected me in many ways from having to deal with others. She was my armor. Everyone thought I was the girl-next-door, the nice one, compared to the beautiful, but difficult one. She was also the only reason I learned how to stand on my own two feet. We left our hometown together. We lived together pretty much until she moved in with Damion. Even when she was dating Devon, she lived with me. She was my… everything. We would do anything for each other. We had each other’s backs since we were seven years old. No matter what. No matter against whom. Ride or die until the very end of her life.
I lean forward, unable to hold the half scorpion pose I was attempting. I fall to my mat… crying. Hysterical. Again.
I anticipate Ireena’s funeral. Her husband… no, her widower, sleeps in my bed and her baby slumbers in my spare room.
I don’t covet Ireena’s life. I covet her, being here with me. Us. Together. How will I live in the world without her? She was much better at it. She was a survivor and, in many ways, she inspired me to survive. I know what everyone thought of her and us. Wow, she was so lucky to have me.
No. No. I was fortunate to have her. I miss her so much, I feel sick right now. But Damion’s spot on, there’s really no one to share the gut-level grief of this. Everyone fell for her act. Her armor, I used to call it. Everyone blamed her. Even for Damion’s half of their shit-storm affair. And no one knew, not fully, her kindness, her loyalty, and her care. She’d do anything for those she loved. Anything. She just didn’t love that many people.
Not even Damion fully understood that.
And now, no one else would. It is buried in the grave with her. I lie flat on my mat. It is over.
Now it is just me all alone.
A fucking heart attack?
Sometimes the irony rushes me and steals my breath. Talk about life kicking you in the throat. A twenty-seven-year-old healthy woman having a massive heart attack? After all we went through? And all we were to each other? She just died on me. I can’t accept it. I loved her as my sister, best friend, mother, caretaker, protector, and the funny part was: she loved me back the same way. I took care of her baby. Even though she loved Dayshia, Ireena lacked maternal inclinations, never having learned them. I’m sure she would have as time passed.
Now we’re all that’s left of her.
Damion. Me. Dayshia. But Dayshia won’t even remember her. It’s us. We’re the only ones who will remember her.
I finally get up. It’s been many long hours. I go to my spare bathroom and shower. I put my curls into a sleek knot and add some makeup to cover up the crying evidence on my face. I slip on the dress I’m wearing to my best friend’s funeral, my heart so heavy it feels like I’m dragging my feet as I walk. By then, I hear Dayshia. Her coos and gurgles and the thumps of her tossing around the playpen are the only things that keep me upright, I swear. I walk in and she flips from her butt to her feet as she puts her arms out. For me.
I take her in my arms, burying my face in her soft hair. It smells a little of milk and baby powder. I need to clean her up. Dress her pretty, even if she’s not staying at her mother’s funeral service. God, how can this be the reality of life? Her life? Mine?
The service starts at four. Damion is still sleeping and I’m relieved. This will do him so much good. I’ll wake him an hour before it’s time to go. He won’t need much time to dress. I tend to Dayshia. I bathe her and we linger in the warm bath. She grins and smiles and coos at me. It’s possibly the only thing that can make me smile today. I put her on a clean towel as I dry her with another one. Damion appears in the doorway, startling me.
Dayshia’s diaperless, and kicking her legs all around. Creases crack her pudgy thighs and her eyes glowed with warmth. Damion’s eyes are puffy and red. But even with the evidence of his exhaustion, his gaze is far clearer. When he got here last night, I knew it would have been dangerous for him to leave with Dayshia or to drive. He was far too out of it. Worse than being intoxicated, I think.
I fall back on my heels, glancing up a him. “You slept.”
He nods, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah. For all the good it does.”
“You needed to rest in order to face today.”
&
nbsp; “Today. I wake up and it’s even worse than yesterday. Fuck,” he mutters. Then he glances at his daughter. “Sorry.” He kneels beside her so we’re both in my tiny bathroom hovering over the squirming, naked girl before us. She notices Damion and grins up at him. “Hey, baby girl. You slept right through my pick-up last night.” He sets his hand on hers and she wraps her little hand around his large one.
I snort, smiling down into Dayshia’s face. “Don’t be sorry, so did Daddy.”
Damion grunts and glances at me. His mouth tips up. I blink. “That’s a first.”
“What?”
“Smile I’ve seen on your face since…”
“Yeah.” He nods. He glances back down. “I smile around her.”
“You do.”
“Sleeping helped.”
“Damion, I ran over to your apartment and got one of your suits all ironed up.”
His gaze pops up to mine. Lord, we are close. I can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. Just tiny slivers of color against the background of forest-floor brown. He and Devon have freaky long lashes that are thick and black. The shape of their eyes matches their dad’s and reflects their Thai heritage.
“You did?”
“Yeah. I knew you needed to sleep this long. You’ll have just enough time to shower, shave and all that and…” My voice trails off. Our gazes stay locked and heavy, sad and intense. The little life squirming between us is the only relief from the morbidity of the subject. I clear my throat. “Anyway, yes, I did. I hope that’s okay.”
“You’ve done everything. I mean… for Dayshia… and me. I think I might have needed hospitalization if I hadn’t finally slept. And you…” his tone seems to fade out. “If you hadn’t helped me and Dayshia. How will I thank you?”
“You won’t. You’ll let me. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane. Keeps me from falling apart.”
“Misery loves company, huh?”
I take Dayshia’s other hand and it seems like Damion and I are holding hands in a way, connected by the tiny life between us. It’s a long moment when we squat beside the baby, staring down at her, contemplating her as well as each other. It’s like he said: he’s the only other person on the planet who feels the profound loss that I do about Ireena. And just as he doesn’t want to be alone with it, I really don’t want to be alone either.
But he needs to shower and I definitely have to leave. I shake my finger to dislodge Dayshia’s grip. “Okay, honey, time to get that diaper back on…”
Damion lets go and I wrap Dayshia up in the towel and lift her as I rise to standing. Damion’s gaze follows her and me, looking up. His eyes glitter with something. Is it sadness? At seeing another woman handling his baby in such an intimate way? I have done the same thing on numerous occasions. But it never seemed like a big deal before. Now? I’m the only woman who can handle her beside her grandma. But in the end, I’ll be the only woman who will tell her about her mother.
I took care of Dayshia while Ireena was dying and everyone else was at the hospital. I visited twice while Dayshia was with each of her great-grandmothers. I’ve had Dayshia twenty-four/seven for almost a full week except for the occasional visits of the family and Damion.
It prevented me from being with Ireena at the end. I was so torn in half throughout the entire ordeal. Broken. Gutted. Claudia Tamasy called me constantly to tell me to keep Dayshia… Ireena had a heart attack. Brain damage was initially suspected. I felt a bitter edge rising inside me. Claudia of all people. She hated Ireena. Of course, she didn’t understand the news she broke to me cut me like a sharp knife and slit my skin wide open. I hemorrhaged at hearing the tragic news but she kept talking and hurrying on to her next chore. Ireena wasn’t her best friend. Her sister. Her blood. Ireena was practically my goddamned blood as far as I was concerned.
I have nothing against that blonde bombshell, Claudia Tamasy. She was both Devon and Damion’s childhood friend. Her aunt married into the family of the twins’ mom. But I knew Claudia hated Ireena, and she wanted Devon. She had a raging crush on him far longer than Ireena even knew him. That was why she hated Ireena so much for having him. Ireena gloated over her conquest to Claudia. She was petty and mean-spirited about it.
If only Claudia had an understanding of why. But I couldn’t go around explaining Ireena’s behavior to every person she left in her wake at her wake. I often sighed and urged Ireena to stop, or at least, to try harder to be nice, but there was no taming Ireena. More of what I loved and hated about her.
I saw her in the hospital. But she was brain dead by then. The medical professionals agreed that most of the damage was done when she collapsed. Alone in her office, she had a massive heart attack caused by an undetected and shockingly rare condition called SCAD. I know all about it now. I’ve read all I could at length. But it doesn’t help. It wasn’t preventable. No one, not Ireena or Damion or I, had any clue she had this condition or suspected the possibility that this could happen. Most people don’t die after their first heart attack. They aren’t alone either and their brains don’t stop working due to lack of oxygen before it’s all over.
They salvaged her body, putting her in the antiseptic hospital bed and wrapping sheets neatly around her torso. They hooked her up to various machines to do what her brain used to do for her. She lay there in a shell. I knew the moment I walked into the room she was already gone. I knew Ireena wasn’t coming back. I stopped beside her body. And just sat there. Tears slid out of my eyes. But I wanted to remember her. Us. Everything. I grew dizzy at the gigantic hole she left in my heart. My disbelief over this and the missed opportunity to say goodbye to her still haunt my thoughts. Others wondered if she’d pull through as they slowly worked their way to the same conclusion I already knew.
From then on, I took care of Dayshia. I held her. We played and cuddled and I bathed and fed her. I cried as her little head rested on my shoulder. It felt like someone was taking my heart out of my chest when they took her to the grandmas or other family members. They claimed to be giving me a break. Relief. Fuck. They had no idea that was the last thing I wanted. Being alone in the house with my grief and constant reminders of Ireena’s death. They thought I was a saint for “helping out” by taking care of Damion’s baby. And being a great friend.
Ha. No. I am only trying to survive. I’d like to scrub my skin off until I bleed. Dayshia needs me, and that’s the only reason I ignore the urge. I’m trying very hard to be “nice.”
And it’s Ireena’s baby. That’s who I am caring for. Not Damion’s baby.
Why does no one realize how much I loved Ireena?
I am polite in public. That doesn’t make me a better person than Ireena. It didn’t make her unlovable or me more so. As far as I’m concerned, there was no one more deserving of my love than Ireena. She would have done anything to help or protect me… no matter what.
I felt the same for her. So, if I could raise her daughter, I would in a heartbeat. I wish just a little bit that Damion doesn’t want to. If he’s overwhelmed and backs away and wants to like… I don’t know, visit her or something… You know? I don’t want him to scar Dayshia forever by leaving her, but if he can’t handle her on a daily basis, maybe I could raise her.
That was our plan. Ireena and I said we’d leave our kids to each other if either of us died in an accident or something. We just never put it in writing. So, there is no proof of her dying wishes. Who would believe me? Or grant me legal custody? She has a father. A caring, involved and yeah, dependable father. I know… I do know, and that’s wonderful. How it should be.
But it leaves me out of it. I’ll be relegated to Ireena’s family friend…
I sigh as I hug Dayshia and glance up when Damion walks out. He’s… gorgeous. Dispassionately, I assess him, from the trim cut of his suit to his white, pressed shirt. He doesn’t wear a tie but the gray suit fits his broad shoulders and molds to his legs. I have to give it to Ireena, who captured the hearts of both Devon and Damion, that they are so rare. Exquisitel
y handsome and smooth and all the other gushing adjectives for hot guys.
Neither of us speak. His gaze lands on me, probing me, as I do him. There is no need for words. His dark eyes glitter. “She doesn’t have a mother,” he finally says as if it just occurred to him.
“No.”
His hollow-eyed stare drifts away from me. And Dayshia. He drops his head and shoulders as he turns. “We’d better go.”
“Yeah.” Concrete anchors my ankles. I cling to Dayshia. She squirms in protest and I loosen my clasp on her body and kiss her forehead. She blinks up at me. She has no understanding that we’re preparing to celebrate the brief life of her mother. My friend. My savior. God, what will I do without her? Dayshia has darker skin tones than either Ireena or Damion. Where Ireena has a soft, bronze glow like a russet sunset, Damion and Devon are more like brown hues of rust. Dayshia’s eyes, however, are the identical, light tan of Ireena’s. She has a startling gaze that makes her skin pop in the most gorgeous contrast.
As for me? I’m like Dayshia. I’m the darkest skinned person I’ve ever seen in this area. The whites of my eyes frame the black depths of my irises. Ireena used to say the light got lost in them and radiated out of my hair. I have natural streaks of light brown which I often bleach to platinum. I used to roll my eyes and say no, the darkness reflected my soul.
Whenever I said that, Ireena would touch my cheek with her hand. She’d cup it and lean right into my face, saying, “That’s fuckin’ bullshit, Kaeja. Bullshit. You don’t swallow that shit. Right?”
She was always telling me my childhood was not my true identity. It didn’t warp my soul or my heart. I wish I believed her. She was insistent. And persistent. Fiercely so. Every day she’d say that to me.
I stare down at my feet and hold in a sigh. Who will say that to me now? Then again, she’d say that’s bullshit too and I’m damn well capable of reminding myself.