Unforgiven

by Rebecca Shea

  “Lindsay,” she says with a giant smile and open arms. I leave my bag on the curb as I meet her with a giant hug. The automatic glass doors slide open and Landon exits with my suitcase and his bag. Reagan releases me and jogs over to him. Landon pulls her into a giant hug and kisses her for longer than is really necessary in public. I roll my eyes and laugh. I realize it’s the first time I’ve laughed in weeks—a real genuine laugh and it feels good.

  Landon loads the luggage and I climb into the back seat of the SUV. The ride to Landon and Reagan’s house is quiet. We pull into the large, paved driveway and Reagan kills the engine. An enormous set of concrete steps lead up to the front door of their new house.

  “I’ve got the guest room on the main floor all set up for you,” she says, looking over her shoulder.

  “Thanks,” I respond.

  “Go get some rest. We’ll get your bags. You’ve been flying all night. We’ll catch up this afternoon.” I smile at her and step out of the car. I count each of the twelve steps up to their large front door as I ascend them and am winded from just that small flight of stairs. Landon holds the door open and I step into their beautiful home. It’s modern, yet comfortable.

  “Down here.” Landon gestures down the long hallway just inside their front door. “Last door on the left. There is a bathroom in your room. I’ll set your bags outside the door.”

  I nod my head and kick off my shoes, letting my bare feet pad down the wooden hallway floor. I slow to look at the pictures Reagan has hung in the hallway, and immediately, my heart races when I see a picture of the four us—Landon, Reagan, Matt and me—at Landon and Reagan’s engagement party. Landon is on the end with Reagan next to him. I’m next to Reagan and Matt is on the other end. My head is tipped back and I’m laughing at something. Always laughing, I think to myself. I want to be that girl again. Matt’s head is turned and he’s looking at me with a huge smile on his face. Exactly how I remember him. I smile at the memory of us four, and tear up, knowing it will never be like that again.

  “You okay?” Landon asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Yeah, I will be.” I smile and bat away the tears from under my eyes.

  “Lan?” I say, turning around to look at him. “Thank you for coming to Phoenix and bringing me home.”

  “You’re welcome,” he whispers. I disappear into the bedroom and immediately jump into bed.

  Sleep came immediately. I didn’t dream, I slept—hard. I wake up slowly to sweat rolling down my temples. With a shaky hand, I reach up and feel the trickle of sweat as it travels around the bandage on my forehead and into my hair. I sit up slowly to get my bearings. Sliding off the bed, I bury my toes in the thick carpeting of the bedroom floor. I walk carefully, noticing my dizziness, to the attached bathroom.

  I stand in front of the mirror and gently pull away the bandage from my forehead. There are approximately eight small stitches that stretch across the giant lump where my forehead met the bedside table in my bedroom. The skin is various shades of purple and pink, and I pull my long hair back behind my head and twist it around itself into a makeshift bun so I can rinse my face. My fingers tremor as I pull the water from the faucet toward my face carefully. Most of the water spills back into the sink, and I repeat the process four or five times—enough times to get some water all over my face. I pull the hand towel from the towel rack and pat my face dry.

  I finally take in the bedroom that Reagan and Landon are letting me stay in while I figure out what I’m doing after rehab and where my life will take me. The room is cozy and comfortable and perfect for me. My favorite item is the large chaise lounge in the corner with a light that hangs over it. A perfect place to read, I think to myself. I pull my suitcases into the room and set aside some clean clothes to change into, placing the remaining clothes in the dresser. I slip into a navy blue sundress that used to fit, but now hangs awkwardly large on my body.

  I find Landon and Reagan sitting at the small table in the breakfast nook, talking over glasses of iced tea. Reagan smiles when she sees me. “Feel better?” she asks.

  “I do. I slept so well. What time is it anyway?”

  “After four in the afternoon. You slept all day.”

  “Guess I needed the rest,” I say with a shrug.

  “Can I get you something to eat or drink?” Reagan asks, standing up from the small table.

  “Iced tea sounds great; I’m not sure about food,” I say, scrunching my nose. I don’t even know what to ask for to eat. Nothing sounds appetizing, but I know I need to begin eating small amounts of food. I sit down in the chair next to Landon and notice him staring out the window into the backyard. The late afternoon sun is beginning its descent in the sky.

  Reagan sets down a glass of tea in front of me, along with a plate of assorted cheeses, yogurt, fresh fruit, a granola bar, some wheat crackers, and some cut-up vegetables. My eyes must have widened in horror because she begins laughing.

  “I don’t expect you to eat all of that.” She giggles. “But you have to eat something. I just didn’t know what you’d like, or what your stomach could handle, so just pick at what you want.” Landon laughs through his nose before sipping on his iced tea.

  “So what are your plans?” he asks cautiously.

  “I’m checking into rehab tomorrow,” I tell him as I tear the foil cover off the container of strawberry yogurt. Reagan sets a spoon down in front of me as she joins us back at the table. “And I’ll play it by ear from there, I guess.” I spoon a small bite of the cool yogurt into my mouth and let it settle on my tongue. It tastes good and feels refreshing as it slides down my throat. I notice my hand shaking as I set the spoon down to rest on the edge of the plate. “A lot of it will be dependent on how long my treatment is, I guess. A lot is up in the air.”

  “I think that’s a great start, Linds,” Reagan says with a sincere smile. “And you are welcome to stay here as long as you want and or need to.”

  “Well, considering your wedding is just around the corner, I plan to be gone by then. Just what you want to come home to after your honeymoon is Landon’s baby sister in your house.” I wink at her.

  “Lindsay, we mean it. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need us. You’ll always be welcome here,” Landon says seriously. I feel my throat tightening, but I’m able to choke out another grateful “Thank you” without completely falling apart. I swallow another spoonful of yogurt and set down the spoon. “There is one thing. Can I borrow one of your cars tonight? There is something I have to do before I check in tomorrow.” Reagan looks cautiously at Landon before turning to me.

  “Of course. You can take my car whenever you need it.”

  “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you both,” I say quietly.

  “Get better, Linds. That’s how you can repay us. Just get better,” Landon says as he reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.

  I set my large suitcase by the front door alongside the backpack. My keys, passport, and wallet all sit on the sofa table so that I don’t forget anything. I glance at the clock that hangs on the living room wall. It reads eight twenty-eight p.m. Melissa said she’d be here around eight thirty. I pull a beer from the refrigerator and twist off the top just as the doorbell rings.

  “Doors open,” I holler from the kitchen. I hear the door squeak open. “In the kitchen,” I say, pressing the cool bottle to my lips. Her footsteps echo off the wood floor and suddenly stop before she gets to the kitchen. I step around the kitchen island and stop dead in my tracks when I see Lindsay standing in my living room. She has stopped in front of the empty shelf that used to hold all of our pictures. Two nights ago, in anger, I removed all of the pictures and the shelf sits with empty frames. I’ll always hold the memories in my heart, but I couldn’t stand the constant reminder of what used to be.

  My heart races when I see her—a battle of emotions, anger, and relief. She stares at the empty shelf until I get her attention. “Lindsay?” She quickly wipes under her eyes and I see her
chin trembling.

  “Hi,” she is barely able to squeak out. “I’m sorry to come by unannounced, but I was afraid you wouldn’t see me,” she says, twisting her fingers around each other nervously. I don’t say anything, but stand and look at the stranger standing in front of me—skinny and lost.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask. “In North Carolina, I mean.”

  “I flew back with Landon,” she says quietly. Her oversized purse hangs from her bony shoulder. “I’m going to check myself into a rehab program tomorrow.”

  “Here in Wilmington?” I ask, setting the beer bottle on the kitchen island. She shakes her head.

  “Outside of Raleigh,” she says quietly. “Did I catch you at a bad time? I see there is luggage by the front door.”

  “Yes. I mean, no. I’m leaving for Europe tomorrow morning, early.” I don’t mean to sound vague, but I’m caught off guard that she’s actually standing in front of me. She nods quickly.

  “I won’t take much of your time, but do you have a couple of minutes to talk? There’re a few things I need to tell you.” I watch the frail girl standing before me and sadness overcomes me for how sick she looks and how quickly we’ve become strangers.

  “I have a couple of minutes. Someone is coming over and…”

  “I won’t take long. I promise,” she cuts me off.

  “Okay, let’s go out on the back patio.”

  “Can I set this on the counter?” she asks, pulling her purse from her shoulder. I actually almost laugh at the question. She used to live here. This was her house, her space. Now she’s asking permission to set her purse on my counter.

  “Yeah.” I pull the sliding glass door open and step onto the large patio. This was one of our favorite spots. We’d sit in the plush patio furniture for hours and talk and look for shooting stars. She told me the first time she ever saw a shooting star was with me. I’ll never forget that night; the smile on her face when she saw that flash of light shoot across the sky.

  I sit down in the chair I always used to sit in, and she takes her spot across from me. She bobs her knees nervously and folds her hands in her lap. I glance inside, waiting for Melissa to come, then back to Lindsay. She looks terrified and jittery, but I won’t rush her. She raises her chin confidently and takes a deep breath before she begins.

  “Jess told me you came to Phoenix, but you left. Why did you come to Phoenix?”

  “I thought you had something to tell me, Lindsay, not question me about my trip to Phoenix.” I realize quickly what an asshole I sound like, but I can’t talk about Phoenix right now.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She immediately backs down. Her eyes fall to her folded hands and I suddenly realize she isn’t the Lindsay I ever knew. The old Lindsay would have told me to fuck off and answer her question.

  “I did come to Phoenix and I did leave. It was just more than I could take,” I admit, sounding like a coward. “I’m not going to lie. It’s really hard seeing you like this, right now.” I gesture to her sitting in front of me. I take a quick drink of the beer I have in my hand, realizing that I look like a giant dick sitting here drinking a beer when Lindsay’s battling her own addiction demons. I reach over the edge of the patio and dump the beer onto the grass below.

  “Matt, I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry for what, Linds? Leaving? Pills? Starving yourself?” My voice becomes louder. “Fucking someone else?” Her eyes find mine, filling with tears. She doesn’t say anything; she listens to me lash out and she takes it. I hate seeing her like this. I hate that she won’t deny what I’ve just thrown at her.

  “I’m sorry for all of it,” she whispers. “I know nothing I say will change anything that I’ve done, but before I leave tomorrow, I needed to apologize to you.”

  “Feel better?” I snap at her and toss the beer bottle across the backyard.

  She shakes her head. “No, I don’t. I didn’t come here to make you angry, and I can see I’ve upset you, so I’ll leave.” She stands up quickly, her legs wobbling under her.

  “It’s not anger, Lindsay. It’s fear. I’m so fucking scared I’m going to lose you—and not just lose you to someone else, but really lose you… problem is, I already have.”

  The air hangs heavy between us. Her face looks tired. Her normally bright eyes are dull, and dark circles have made their home beneath them. “Seeing you like this scares the shit out of me.” My voice becomes softer. “How much do you weigh?”

  “Don’t you know it’s not polite to ask a girl how much she weighs?” She smirks, trying to lighten the mood, a glimpse of the old Lindsay.

  “Now is not the time for jokes, Lindsay. How much do you weigh? Don’t tell me you don’t know.” She stands quietly, contemplating. She has no reason to tell me anything; she came here to apologize and she has.

  “Last time I checked, I was ninety-six pounds.”

  I nod and feel my lips curl in anger. “And the pills?”

  “What about them?”

  “What were they and where’d you get them?” I know the first answer, but I want to know where she was getting them.

  “Oxy. I’ve been using them since the accident a couple of years ago. I was off them completely until I moved to Phoenix.”

  “Why’d you start using them again?” My jaw muscles flex and I can hear my teeth grinding against each other.

  “They were an easy fix to help numb everything that I was feeling. I felt so guilty for leaving you.” Her voice cracks. “The guilt, my sucky job, the pressure to be successful and skinny and beautiful… I like how they helped me feel numb—I felt nothing when I used them.”

  “Where were you getting them?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She looks away from me.

  “Where were you getting them? They are a controlled substance, Lindsay. I know you’re not getting them from a doctor—the baggie Jess found next to you had enough pills to tranquilize eight horses.” She shrugs timidly. Her hands are shaking and her chin trembles.

  “My next-door neighbor has a friend…” I roll my eyes. Of course she was getting them from a street dealer. Fuck.

  “That preppy little fuck that lives next door to you? I saw him in the hallway when I left. You’re getting them from a street dealer?”

  “Don’t blame Jonah. He’s been trying to help me.”

  “What else has Jonah been helping you with?” I raise my voice again and I smack the arm of the chair I’m sitting in. She flinches and backs away. “Never mind; don’t answer that.”

  “I’m sorry, Matt,” she says again, and all I can do is nod my head. “I never wanted to hurt you—ever.”

  “You did, Lindsay. You fucking destroyed me,” I admit like a pussy. “From the day I met you, I was madly in love with you. I never in a million years thought you’d leave me—let alone let another man touch you.” I stare off into the dark backyard while she stands silently watching me.

  Her breaths come deep and harsh. Her tiny body shakes as she tries to speak. “I will always love you, Matt, but it kills me to know you’re not happy. I need you to be happy,” she sobs.

  “The thing about love, Lindsay, is that when you love someone, you put all of their needs above your own. I need you healthy—mentally and physically. That is the only way I’ll ever be happy. I need to know you’re safe. So it looks like we’re stuck in a vicious little cycle here.” Her eyes blink rapidly. “You know I’ll always love you, but you made your choice and it wasn’t me. You never have to question my love for you—ever. But you need to learn to love yourself. No one is perfect, Lindsay—you never will be. That’s what I always loved about you—all your flaws and all your scars, but you need to learn to love them too. You left me to find yourself, your career—and now that’s what I’m doing—finding myself.” Her chin trembles and tears fall from her downcast eyes onto her sunken cheeks. “You should probably go.”

  She walks quickly to the patio door and into the kitchen. She pauses and looks around the kitchen while she grabs
her purse from the counter. I follow her through the kitchen and into the living room at the exact time that Melissa walks through the front door. Shit.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Melissa says loudly, almost running directly into Lindsay as she’s leaving. The women both stand stunned, looking at each other for mere seconds, registering each other’s presence.

  “Lindsay,” Melissa says just above a whisper. “Good to see you.”

  “You too, Melissa,” Lindsay chokes out before looking back over her shoulder at me, tears streaming down her face. She steps around Melissa quickly and disappears out the front door. Melissa remains still, stunned just as I was when I saw Lindsay.

  “I didn’t know she was going to be here. Is she okay?” Melissa asks as I stand planted in front of the large window and watch as Lindsay sits in Reagan’s SUV parked in the driveway, her head resting on the steering wheel.

  “I didn’t know she was going to be here either.”

  “She didn’t look good,” Melissa says, an observation which instantly pisses me off, but I shove the anger down and just get to business.

  “Here’s the house key.” I reach for the single key that sits on the sofa table just inside the front door. “Just set the mail on the kitchen counter, and that’s the only plant I have.” I point to the houseplant that Reagan gave me to breathe some life into this house. “Give it a little water once a week.” I turn just in time to see the red taillights of Reagan’s SUV disappear down the street. I turn back to Melissa. “Any questions?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I’ll message you once I’m back for the key. Thanks again for watching the house.” I know I’m being short, but I want her gone.