Behind These Scars

by Lilah Grey

  Sick.

  “How’d she get the drugs?”

  “She used to be a nurse. Maybe she accumulated her cache over the years. Maybe she called in some favors. We don't know yet. We're still sifting through it all.”

  I was so certain that it was Margaret who poisoned Libby. It made sense. It seemed like the everything could be tied together in a neat package, but nothing’s ever as it seems. I was wrong, blinded by my hatred for her.

  She may not have poisoned Libby, but she still caused almost as much damage as Rose. Maybe more.

  There are antidotes for poison. There are ways to flush it from your system. Emotional scarring that has built up over years of psychological abuse can’t be mended overnight. Libby still hasn’t recovered from my mother’s abuse. She’s still self-conscious, hesitant to break out of her routine.

  I might’ve missed Rose, but I wasn’t going to miss my chance to help Libby. I was going to be by her side while she recovered.

  “We know now that Rose killed Margaret. It came out when we pressed her. We can finish watching if you’d like.”

  I push away from the desk. “I think I’ve seen enough.”

  Damian steps aside as I leave the room. I make it halfway to the elevator before I stop, turn around, and head back to the office. I chew the inside of my mouth as a storm brews in my head.

  Was this happening? Has Libby really…

  I stand in the doorway, watching Damian as he slouches in the chair and stares blankly at the laptop; he doesn’t even notice me. He looks at the screen as though he’s in a trance.

  I clear my throat. “Damian.”

  He brings his gaze up to mine.

  “It’s not your fault. None of us saw this coming.”

  Both of us were blindsided, too absorbed in our own theories to look elsewhere.

  His eyes refocus as he sits up.

  I grit my teeth as I fight the urge walk back out the door. Two apologies in one day?

  “Libby told me about what happened. That night. Hunter and Sarah.” I clench and unclench my hand. “I’m sorry I attacked you.”

  It takes a moment for my words to register, but when they do, a smile forms on Damian’s lips and he stands up.

  I stick out my hand as he approaches. He looks at it for a moment.

  Yes. This is real. It doesn’t happen often, but I do own up to my mistakes.

  “No worries,” Damian says as we shake hands. “Take care of Libby, will you?”

  I nod, letting go as I turn to leave.

  There was nothing else I wanted more than to take care of Libby.

  I hear Libby’s laughter before I see her. It’s infectious and forces a smile onto my lips as I near her room. I stop before reaching the door, looking through a crack in the blinds. She’s dangling a long red ribbon in the air as Crouton rolls around on his back, batting at it. Even though Libby’s been through hell, she still finds a way to smile. I think it’s a requirement in this world. You have to find ways to see the good, even when things are bad, when the days are the darkest.

  I can feel my love for her flutter in my chest, bubble in my throat. There wasn’t any other person in this world that I wanted more than Libby Jean Grayson.

  “Luke!” she squeals, arms outstretched as I open the door.

  I can feel tears edging their way to the corners of my eyes. “Libby,” I croak.

  “You’ll never believe what happened to me.”

  I let out a feeble laugh as I cross the room. I hold her in my arms as the rest of the world dissolves around us.

  “Tell me about it.”

  27

  Libby

  It’s funny how quickly life can change, for better or worse. I’m used to the latter, but lately, life couldn’t be any better.

  I'm writing this entry at a large oak desk in a hotel room that overlooks the heart of Tokyo. Just writing that feels weird. I never thought I'd see Tokyo or anything outside of Texas for that matter.

  The sliding glass door leading to the veranda is wide open, letting in a gentle breeze that flutters my hair. Even though the breeze carries in the strong smells and sounds of the city, I don't mind. I'm with Luke, and that's all that matters.

  Once I left the hospital and after Margaret’s funeral, Luke whisked me away from Texas and away from our checkered past. It seems like every week we’re in a new city or country.

  Paris? London? Milan? Check, check, and check.

  India? New Zealand? Thailand? Came and went.

  He’s minimized his presence at his company, stepping back for the moment to spend more time with me. I can’t say I don’t mind. I love spending time with him. I love…

  I just gave myself goosebumps thinking of everything we do together. Luke has a way of doing that to me. Even thinking about him affects my mood and the rest of my body.

  Although I’ve enjoyed our adventures together, I know he’s itching to get back to work.

  I think the whirlwind tour of the world is his way of protecting me from my thoughts. He wants me to be so busy and wrapped up in our adventures that I don’t have time to think about what happened. If that’s his goal, I have to say it’s worked.

  For the most part.

  I’ve thought about what happened to me. What Rose did to me. I’ve cycled through various stages of anger, depression, and resentment, but now there’s only pity in my heart.

  I pity Rose.

  I’ve been told that time heals all wounds, but I’m not sure that’s true. I think that there are some wounds that can’t be healed by time. Sure, the pain from most wounds can disappear with time, or at the very least, diminish. But when I think about Rose, I know for certain that time can’t heal all wounds, only some of them.

  I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a child. As a nurse, Rose spent her life helping sick people, mending them. But when it came to her own daughter, her own flesh and blood, there was nothing she could do. And that affected her deeply. A hole opened up inside her, and no matter how much time passed, no matter how hard she tried to plug it, it remained. It deepened over the years.

  When I came along, she saw her solution. I was the answer she could never find. I know what she did was wrong, sick, and twisted, but I can understand what drove her to it.

  She’s in a psychiatric hospital, similar to Millwood, but for the criminally insane. People who are so far removed from reality that there’s little hope for a full rehabilitation. She’ll live out the rest of her life inside a white, padded room. That’s enough justice for me.

  Anger and hate is just as poisonous as the stuff Rose fed me. I’m not going to allow her to poison me again by holding on to it.

  It seems to be working. I haven’t had a single urge to cut in nearly a year. I haven’t even needed the rubber band, though there are still times when Luke frustrates me… but he always pulls me back. He knows me better than anyone else.

  I think I’m ready to go back. Not to Milton, but back to a normal life, as normal as any life can be. It’s been fun, but I’m ready to move on.

  I know Luke will be concerned. He’ll think that I’m rushing things. He wants to protect me, but I don’t need him to right now.

  The only thing I need now is to find myself again. I loved working with Luke when we were younger, and I want to see if my love for creating things out of nothing but an idea is still there. I can sometimes feel the desire well inside me, poking at me when I least expect it. I felt it today when we saw the beautiful cherry blossoms. They're in bloom, and after a little (okay, a lot) of pestering, Luke finally agreed to take me.

  They were even more beautiful than I imagined. I can die happy.

  I just stopped writing and stared at Luke for a solid five minutes. Sometimes I can’t help myself, especially when he’s wearing a tailored suit. Mmm. If he caught me creeping, he’d flash that knowing smirk and a few seconds later we’d…

  Well, Luke’s voracious if anything, especially when it comes to me.

  I wouldn
’t have it any other way.

  He’s standing on the veranda, forearms perched on the railing as he looks down at the bustling streets below. I want to yank him away—what if the railing breaks!—but I’m resisting the urge. That’s not going to happen. Still…

  Back. It. Up.

  I’m excited for tonight. Date night. I’m giddy just thinking about it.

  There's this sushi restaurant that has a waiting list months long, but somehow Luke got us a table for tonight. I've never had sushi before, but lately, I've wanted to get out of my comfort zone and try something new as often as possible. It makes me feel alive knowing that there is still so much left in this world that I haven't done. And I'm glad Luke's been by my side through it all.

  I’m excited to see what else he has in store for me tonight. He’s been keeping it a secret but what else is new? I haven’t been let down yet, so I won’t prod.

  I did it again. I got lost in my thoughts, staring at Luke. It’s his fault for being so damn handsome.

  Ugh.

  Well, it’s time for me to go now.

  I’m not sure what the future will hold for me, but with Luke by my side, I know everything will be okay.

  28

  Luke

  Resilience.

  When I think about Libby, I think about her resilience more than anything else. I've never known a stronger person. I've never known someone who's endured as much as she has and still bounces back with a smile.

  Her smile. Just thinking about it brings one to my lips.

  It’s playful and inviting, warm and kind. Nothing compares to the feelings it awakens inside me each time I see it. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world. I know this because we’ve spent nearly a year traveling around the world, and each time I’m struck by her beauty more than the changing sights and scenery.

  I remember nothing about the Eiffel Tower or the Pyramids of Giza. I don’t remember walking along the Great Wall of China, even though we both had the blisters to prove it. All I remember of our adventures are the little moments we shared together.

  Holding hands as we got lost wandering the streets of Paris after midnight. Her windswept hair as we strolled along the beach in Cinque Terre eating strawberry gelato. The way pink streaked her cheeks when a street vendor in Alexandria offered me fifty camels for her hand in marriage. The way it crimsoned when I told him I’d let her go for nothing less than a hundred. I might still have a bruise on my arm where she punched me.

  It’s those moments that I remember. It’s those moments that I collect and cherish.

  I love Libby, and I can't imagine a life without her by my side.

  I glance over my shoulder at her. She's inside our suite, writing in her journal. She writes in it every day, keeping it locked up tight overnight. I have no urge to read what she's written, because I know it's personal. It's her way of dealing with what happened to her, and it seems to be working.

  I’ve never seen her this happy before, and I don’t want to mess that up.

  I hope our adventure together has helped. It was the only thing I could think of to distract her, ease the pain a little. She’d never been outside of Texas before, and now she’s been to more countries in less than a year than most people see in a lifetime.

  I have to remind myself that our adventure will eventually come to an end. We’ll have to pack our bags and head home, back to our normal life, whatever that might be. I miss my work at Fyrefly, and based on the emails I’ve been getting from Olivia and Elliot, Fyrefly misses me.

  Even though this adventure will soon come to an end, I have another, longer one in the works.

  It begins with a single question.

  I take the blue box from my pocket, where I’ve kept it for months now, and hold it in front of me, careful not to drop it off the edge and onto the busy street below.

  It’s not large by any means, but it doesn’t need to be to hold what’s inside. One look at the box and you know. It’s iconic. The size and shape of what’s inside might be different, but its meaning is always the same.

  For me, it’s a farewell to the life I used to lead, but not in a bad way. I’m not dragging my feet. I’m not longing to extend my life as a bachelor. It’s quite the opposite. It’s an amicable parting of ways from a life that no longer suits me. The only thing that suits me now is Libby. She’s changed me for the better, and I hope she’ll accept.

  I trace the edge of the box for a moment. So many hours went into selecting the right one. Months of agonizing over the cut. I don't know if I should be sad that a piece of jewelry caused me sleepless nights, or happy that I found a someone worth all the agonizing. I'll go with the latter. Some people never find the right person. I'm lucky that I did.

  I knew Libby was the one for a while now. My unconscious mind probably knew it long before it surfaced. Finally, after finding the perfect ring, I kept it in my pocket, waiting for the perfect moment to propose.

  But is there a perfect moment?

  The more I think about it, the more I think that there isn’t a perfect moment. Life isn’t perfect. If there is such thing as a perfect moment, I’d probably be too caught up with something else to recognize it. My proposal won’t be perfect, but if Libby accepts, that’s more than good enough for me.

  The click of Libby's heels against the concrete drags me out of my head. I close the box and slip it back into my pocket just before she wraps her arms around my waist. She rests her head against my back, and I lay my hands on her arms.

  “I’m sorry it took so long. I got carried away, I guess.”

  Her voice is sweet and soft and she smells like jasmine and lavender.

  “It’s fine. It’s nice out here.”

  The sun is blood-orange as it begins to disappear behind the Tokyo skyline, blotting the sky above us with swaths of pinks, oranges, and reds.

  Libby lifts her head and steps beside me, one arm still wrapped around my waist. I place my hand along the small of her back and watch her as she gazes at the setting sun. Stray tendrils of hair flutter against her cheek from the gentle breeze. The light casts a golden hue on her skin, and as I look at her, I forget the beauty of the sunset.

  She rests her head against my side. “Have you ever seen something so beautiful before?”

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  There's a breeziness to her voice, light and airy as she watches the sunset. I lift my hand from the small of her back and brush the stray tendril off her face.

  “Right now.” She looks at me. “You.”

  She snorts, shaking her head as she turns her attention back to the sky.

  “That’s so cheesy.”

  I stroke her hair and smile, touching the small box in my pocket with my fingertips.

  “I like it,” she says, after a few moments. “And I like this. Us. Watching the sunset. I like everything about it. It’s more than I could ask for. It’s—”

  I finish her sentence as I take out the box in my pocket. “Perfect.”

  My mind goes blank, and the next thing I see is Libby’s beautiful face looking down at me as I take her hand in mine. She covers her mouth with one hand, cheeks already beginning to flush as I ask her the one question I’ll never ask another person again.

  “Libby Jean Grayson, will you marry me?”

  And through a tearful smile, she responds with a single, beautiful word.

  “Yes.”

  Epilogue

  Libby

  Seven years later…

  I'm finishing up a website design for one of my clients when the letter arrives. Luke sets it down on my desk, but I ignore it, focusing my attention on the screen.

  I can feel Luke standing next to me. “You’re hovering…”

  I have a strict deadline, and nothing's going to stop me.

  After our daughter, Madeline, was born, I started working as a freelance graphic designer so I could spend more time at home. I enjoyed the work I did at Fyrefly, but Madeline’s more important to me
. I wanted to give her the childhood I never had. Luke ended up spending more time at home, too.

  Win, win, win.

  Most of the time…

  I let out a sigh as I draw my attention away from the screen. “This better be—”

  I pause when I see the strained expression on his face.

  “You shouldn’t go.”

  Jaw clenched, teeth gritted, muscles taut—that’s a Luke I haven’t seen in a while.

  “Go where, Mommy?” Maddie squeals from under my desk. I smile and stroke her head as she plays with her toy horse, Matilda.

  We bought it for her last Christmas when she announced that she wanted a horse. Although she was a little distraught to find the horse wasn't life-size when she unwrapped it, they became fast friends, and now it rarely leaves her side.

  Four years old. I don’t know where the time’s gone.

  “I’m not sure, sweetie.” Maddie doesn’t hear me. She’s already lost in her own world, neighing as she rears Matilda up on her back legs.

  I can feel Luke's eyes on me as I read the letter. I don't know what to feel as I read it again, hoping some emotion will rise, but nothing does.

  When I set the letter back down on the desk, Luke takes it and begins to tear it up. Maddie pokes her head out to see what’s going on. Luke lets the shreds fall into the garbage can next to the door.

  Maddie's eyes grow wide as she points to the falling bits of paper. “It's snowing!”

  I laugh, pick her up, and place her on my lap.

  She points under the desk. “Matilda!”

  I reach under and grab Matilda, handing it back to Maddie.

  “Will you play horsies with me?”

  I tousle her hair. “In a minute.” Her face drops, but a few seconds later she’s back at it.

  I look at Luke.

  He’s concerned. He’s stated his opinion. He’s made it clear.

  But there’s something tugging at me. I want to go. I need the closure.