Waking to Black

by V. H. Luis

  Guilt makes the bile in my stomach churn. People say suicide is selfish and in some ways it’s true, but what most don’t understand is that a person who is depressed, thinks it’s selfish to remain a burden to those they love. They think their family is better off without them. They don’t see the immediate aftermath of their actions.

  The paramedics arrive and Sarah is whisked away, her father riding with them.

  As Lillian Black rushes to follow, her tear-blotched face turns to me. “Victoria saw you talking to her! What did you say?”

  She lunges forward, grabbing my arms and pinning me with her grief-stricken stare. Mesmerized by the sight, because the image of my own mother in the same situation comes to mind, I begin mapping out the creases of her frowning face as her tears fall. The vacancy of her expression, chills my bones and makes it hard for me to move. Did my mother look like this?

  “A-All I did was listen to her.” I stammer, unwilling to turn away.

  “Listen to what?” Adam asks, his decisive demeanor faltering under the strain of confusion.

  Mrs. Black’s fingers dig into my skin, the sting distracting me from Adam’s question.

  “Why didn’t you come get me if she was upset, why didn’t you…” Her words fade and her hold on me stiffens to the point that I know I’m being bruised.

  Adam, pries his mother’s finger from my arms and she clings to him as he engulfs her in a strong hug. “It doesn’t matter who she spoke to before. Sarah needs us now.”

  “She was crying when she was with her,” Victoria says as if she’d just presented a jury with a smoking gun.

  I don’t bother to look at her, but I sigh, because of course she would still be here.

  “She stumbled when she was with you, almost falling to the floor.” Victoria shrieks the accusation while turning to face Adam and his mother. “I was so worried I thought to follow her, but I was detained…”

  Detained, accosting me! I want to scream the statement, but the terrible reality of what’s happening—Sarah might die—holds me back. Ignoring Victoria, I focus on Adam because I want to be here for him, but the shadow I see in his eyes as he holds his grieving mother, is so reminiscent of doubt, I’m paralyzed.

  “If you knew my sister was in trouble, why didn’t you tell me?” He asks in a hushed tone, and it may be my imagination but I think I hear disappointment in his voice.

  Is it my fate, my destiny in life to have everyone I care for, find me lacking?

  “There wasn’t any time and I didn’t know she was—"

  “You should’ve found the time.” Victoria hisses.

  “Why would you, of all people, be the one to talk to her?” Mrs. Black, pulls away from her son, her erect posture determined.

  “None of this is important now,” Adam says as he grips the back of his neck, and my heart hurts for the obvious stress I see in his taut body.

  “This is a mistake, a miscalculation,” his mother rambles. “Sarah would never have done this willingly. She must have not read the label on the pill bottle. She’s such a smart and accomplished young girl.”

  I’ve remained quiet thus far, because I want to respect Lillian Black’s pain. But the hollow justifications and clear misconception as to why her daughter has harmed herself, hits a nerve. My future was as bright as Sarah’s when I tried to kill myself.

  “She knew exactly what she was doing,” I don’t mean to sound so hard and certain, but I do.

  “Evelyn, don’t. Not now.” Adam looks at me, his gaze unyielding.

  I refuse to listen because I’ve lived this moment, I’ve heard the excuses people made for me and I can’t hear them again, even if they’re directed at someone else.

  “Maybe she did it because she was nearly raped yesterday. Maybe it was something brewing for years. Honestly, I don’t know. But she knew what she was doing and you shouldn’t make excuses… Not if you want her to get better.”

  “Sarah wouldn’t do this because of yesterday’s…” Mrs. Black lowers her tone, and her eyes dart from left to right, surveying her surroundings. “Because of yesterday’s unfortunate incident. She’s not that dramatic.”

  Lillian Black’s slanted priorities and condemning scrutiny disgusts me, and she notices. Shaking her head, her expression adopts an air of superiority, her pert nose raising loftily. “You know nothing about my daughter or my family.”

  “I know you were more worried about bad publicity yesterday than supporting her. Don’t make that same mistake today. Now more than ever, she’s going to need unconditional support.”

  “How dare you judge me.”

  “The same way you’ve dared to judge me.”

  “What are you talking about?” Adam steps forward. “Evelyn, don’t make this about you, because it’s not. My mother is upset over what’s happened with Sarah; she’s not judging you.”

  The naïve comment makes me laugh, because I’ve always been the naïve one among us. He doesn’t know about the conversation me and his mother had. And while that memory is very present in my mind, it’s not the reason I’ve said what I’ve said—someone has to be Sarah’s advocate. If they ignore this and try to hide it, if they pretend it didn’t happen, that it’s not significant, her existence may end up being as hollow as mine has been for years. I don’t wish that on anyone.

  “Smart and accomplished young girls aren’t immune to harming themselves,” I whisper. “In fact, depression doesn’t discriminate.”

  “And you would know, wouldn’t you?” Mrs. Black’s lips curl in a smirk full of vitriol.

  “Yes, I would,” I say vehemently, for the first time not feeling remorse about my past but rather a somber acceptance.

  A dark gleam shines from Adam’s hard sapphire eyes as he stares at his mother. “This conversation is over.” He growls between clenched teeth. “I don’t know what the fuck has gone on tonight, but I’m going to find out.”

  “Yes, and while you’re investigating, be sure to learn what exactly she said to my baby.”

  Without acknowledging his mother, Adam grabs my hand and begins walking, but my nagging fears won’t let the issue lie. I tug my hand free and look at him, my chin lifted in defiance. “Do you blame me for your sister?”

  “No,” he states flatly. “However, I know your judgment concerning a situation like this can be skewed and I don’t fault you for not—"

  “Now, you’re making excuses for me!”

  “You’re twisting everything I say because you’re agitated and not thinking straight.”

  He’s back in control and his calm stance, the cool effectiveness of his steely composure makes me want to shake him and throw him off balance.

  “It’s not my fault,” I cry out, and in the recesses of my mind I know I’m not talking about Sarah and her actions, but my own. “I’ll be dammed if I let you criticize me in order to feel better about your own collective apathy.”

  “Apathy?” Adam moves close, so we’re inches apart.

  “That’s rich, coming from you. You’ve lived your life avoiding difficult decisions and embracing apathy. When something overwhelms you, you run and hide. It’s what probably happened when you spoke to Sarah, and it sure as hell is what’s happening now.”

  I shove my index finger against him. “Keep pointing an accusatory finger at me. Maybe if you point long enough you’ll feel better about your own choices. Maybe you’ll forget that your passion doesn’t lie in a real-estate contract, but in piano keys. That you’ve lived your life as repressed, as sheltered. That you’ve made mistakes as misguided and as big as my own.”

  “Stop talking.” Adam closes his eyes for a long second, and when he opens them the most bittersweet expression radiates from his heated gaze. “Stop talking, before you say something you’ll regret.”

  At this point I’m seeing red. I can’t stop. All the emotions I’ve controlled and bottled up throughout the night are demanding release.

  “Yes, I think of hurting myself—often. Every day of my life, t
o be exact. But you know what I don’t do? I don’t look down on people. I don’t throw stones like you and yours while you sit perched upon your high and mighty pedestals.”

  “I’ve never thought less of you.” He says huskily.

  “Of course you have!” I ball my fists, desperately trying to reign-in the urge to lash out, because for a man who can easily wade through bullshit, in this respect he’s blind. “You hired someone to look into my past, you’ve demanded the truth about the darkest, most vile moment in my life while being unwilling to reveal your own sorrows.”

  A small sob escapes my lips, and when he reaches for me I step back because I know his touch will burn. It’s painful to realize that after all we’ve been through together, I’ve never had his confidence—I doubt anyone does.

  “I could forgive it all, Adam, if it weren’t for what I know you’re thinking now about your sister, what you probably have thought about me since you’ve learned the truth.”

  The steady hammer of my heartbeat echoes like thunder against my ear, egging me on. “What bothers you most, all of you, is not that Sarah hurt herself, it’s that the image you have of her is now tarnished. That type of vanity is more a sin than her actions.”

  “You little bitch—”

  Adam cuts his mother short. “Mother, go to the hospital with Victoria.”

  Mrs. Black tries to protest, but is once again silenced. “I’ll be there soon.”

  Victoria and Lillian walk past on my periphery, but I refuse to turn away from Adam. When they’re no longer in earshot, he speaks.

  “What bothers me, Evelyn, is that after all this time, after everything I’ve uncovered, I still don’t know you. I’ve only ever seen shades of the person you are. And you know what, Evelyn? What I did see was beautiful. But looking at you is like staring at the Mona Lisa through a hole in a wall. It’s infuriating.”

  “The sentiment, Adam,” I say slowly, the catch in my voice making it hard to complete the sentence, “is mutual.”

  I think it’s pain I see in his expression, but the moment is so fleeting I’m not sure. He shakes his head. “I’ve given you more than I’ve given any woman in years.”

  Without a doubt, I know the statement is true. This strong, intelligent, totally alpha man in front of me has broken his rules—but it’s not enough. His reticence about his past, the hypocrisy of the truths he demands from me while keeping his secrets, has erected a wall between us I’m not sure I can break. And even if I could, even if I pushed past his barriers completely and got the full story, it wouldn’t be enough to secure the fairytale. Even with his faults, I believe he deserves so much more, than what I can offer. He deserves the full painting.

  “It’s over.” My mouth is dry as I press my lips together. “Let it be over. Save your sister. Get her the help she needs. Don’t waste your time on me, because I’m a lost cause.”

  Again, I see that flicker in his gaze—that flash of pain and concern. But in a blink, it’s gone.

  I shake my head and move to his left, only to be halted by his hand on my wrist. His touch feels like fire on my skin. Not because the grip is reconstructing, but because there’s no affection behind the action.

  “Parker will take you home,” he says with finality as he pulls out his phone.

  “I can get home on my own.”

  Adam ignores me. He speaks to Parker and tells him to bring the limo to the entrance. After he finishes the conversation he stares at me from head to toe and the expression on his face makes me squirm. I don’t feel beautiful anymore; I feel uncomfortable and ordinary.

  He grabs my hand and leads me out of the hotel, never once speaking a word. My eyes are glued to the floor.

  By the time we reach the entrance Parker is there. Adam opens the limo door for me and my heart is racing. This is it; this is the end.

  He leans down and kisses my cheek. The action is void of the emotion I’ve felt since we first met, and this is the worst punishment, being denied his passion. He’s pretending my presence doesn’t affect him, and then a scary thought strikes me—maybe he’s not pretending. I don’t have time to dwell on the thought.

  “Goodbye, Evelyn.” His voice is formal, and the way he says my name lacks the seductive quality I’ve grown to adore.

  I hear nothing in his voice, not a touch of regret or longing, only emptiness.

  “I hope your sister is all right.” I genuinely care about Sarah’s wellbeing.

  “Me, too.”

  He ushers me into the car. I open my mouth to speak, but I don’t know what to say and before I can figure it out, he closes the door. I look out the tinted windows and watch him turn and enter the hotel. Then the car pulls away and nothing matters anymore.

  A few hours ago I was in this limo with Adam, his hands were under my dress and the promise of more lingered in the air. Now, I’m alone, and it’s nobody’s fault but mine. Yes, I had coercion and threats from his mother and his ex, the stress and anxiety of coming face-to-face with my past mistakes, my growing resentment over the secrets he’s keeping, but deep down I know I’ve ended things because I’m scared of what the future might bring. I have been apathetic; because that’s the only way I can control the urge to cut. Adam’s presence in my life has thrown me off balance, like a planet without an orbit. I’m lost.

  The tears come then. Between the sobs, my mind chimes in with words of wisdom.

  How can anyone love you when you’re too scared to love wholeheartedly?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  THE SCANDAL AT the Biltmore has made the local news. As noted by the press, “The beautiful heiress Sarah Black is in stable condition and should make a full recovery.” They report that the incident was an unfortunate accident and that further investigation will follow. It’s apparent, at least to me, that her family is orchestrating what is being reported in the media.

  I don’t have the courage to call and tell Adam I’m happy his sister will recover. Mainly because I know a “full” recovery is not possible. Events like that remain with you forever, especially when those who love you are more interested in denying the severity of your actions, than confronting them.

  Miserable, again feeling hollow, I just lay in my bedroom with the lights turned off and the curtains closed.

  A week later, on Christmas morning, Tina barges into my room, her face full of determination. She yanks open the curtains, letting sunlight permeate through the room.

  I groan at the intrusion and place a pillow across my head.

  “You’ve wallowed in self-pity long enough. Get up, Evie!”

  I close my eyes and remain motionless. I’m not ready to face the world. A few minutes pass and I assume she’s relented. I’m wrong.

  Tina grabs me by the arms and yanks me to my feet. Her dark eyes narrow as she watches me.

  Standing at five-foot-three, Tina’s shorter than me, and yet when she is determined to do something nothing will stop her. Somehow she manages to drag me to the bathroom. I stumble over the shower step and shake my head. Before I can react, she turns the water on.

  “Shit! It’s fucking cold!” The water clings to my clothing, and for the first time in days I flush.

  Tina ignores me and squirts body wash on my drenched body.

  “We’re not letting this happen again. Do you understand me? People break up all the damn time and they don’t starve themselves and become hermits. Now, get cleaned up.”

  “Leave me alone.” I run my hands through my wet hair. All I want to do is crawl back into bed and sleep.

  “Like hell I am. Six days to New Year’s, and if you start the year like this, you’re screwed. You know the saying, right? Start the year how you plan to go on—and you are not spending it dirty and in shambles. Pick up that razor, shave your legs, and wash your hair.”

  Tina doesn’t bother to wait for my response. She turns and slams the bathroom door shut behind her.

  I’m not sure why I listen. I suspect that I just don’t want to hear her bitch.
>
  Fifteen minutes later, I’m clean and presentable. I walk out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my body and my toothbrush clamped between my teeth. An outfit has already been laid out for me.

  How fucking convenient. I’ve time-traveled to grade school. I put on the outfit because I’m too tired to argue.

  Tina has been busy cleaning my house, opening windows, and airing out the musky abyss I’ve been residing in for the last week, since the breakup. She knows the story. The next day, between shots of Grey Goose, I’d confessed every sordid detail of Saturday’s calamity. She’d been silent since then and I’d assumed it was to let me get over the shock. Now she’s in my house cleaning, and I’m getting dirty looks.

  “What’s your problem?” I pull out one of the chairs from the dining set and sit.

  “You!”

  “What the hell did I do to you?”

  “It’s what you are not doing. You let Adam’s bitch of a mother railroad you. You let his sister’s actions scare the hell out of you, and you just quit.”

  I’m surprised by the vehemence in her tone. “It was never going to work. You even told me he was like chocolate ice cream. You gave me some bullshit explanation about how too much of anything is bad for you and that I was losing myself.”

  “I meant you should be careful, not be a pushover. You fucking walked away without putting up a fight.” Her stare is frigid as she wipes the dining room table with a damp cloth.

  If it were anyone else, I would have pounced like a lion. However, this is Tina, the one person in the world who has never let me down. The type of loyalty she’s always given me deserves better than my anger.

  “His sister just attempted to commit suicide. He doesn’t need to be around someone else who’s a total basket case. I would be an embarrassment to him and would damage his reputation.”

  She tosses the cloth on the table and points a finger at me. “Bullshit! You’re scared.”