by Roth, T. A.
The waiting area is full. Everyone has been here to see him. Fraternity brothers, his teammates, even Eli flew in from New York as soon as he heard. They've come in and out of the room, giving me their well wishes, their hugs, and their “I'm sorry,” but it doesn't matter if he never wakes up.
Vonne rushed down from San Diego, she pulled me into a hug as soon as she laid eyes on me, and we cried for what seemed like forever. I promised never to keep a secret from her again. My parents blame themselves. They said they felt something was off at the funeral when he introduced himself; his face was familiar, but they couldn't place him. He used the name Gabe with them too. Natalie came by trying to apologize, but I refused to see her.
I'm exhausted. I haven't slept for fear that he'll wake up and I'll miss it. Even if only for a second, I need to see him open those amber eyes.
We're finally alone. Elizabeth presses a kiss to his forehead before she and Andrew leave for the night. She gives me a sad smile before leaving the room. I sit in the vacant chair next to him and sandwich his hand in mine. Working slow circles with my thumb, I pray silently begging God to send him back to me
Karen comes in to check his vitals. She’s been his nurse since he was brought in. I’m thankful she's been taking care of him, just as she took care of Nana Rosemarie. She's kept me updated on any changes and having her around is the only thing keeping me sane at the moment.
"Everything looks good, Ari. Just keep talking to him. He'll come around." She gives my shoulder a little squeeze before leaving the room.
His lip is split, and large purple bruises mar his face and neck, the outline of fingers giving me a constant reminder.
"I should have killed him for what he did to you. I'm so sorry, baby." My fingers run over the stubble on his jaw as I will him to open his eyes. I place a soft kiss to his lips and a soft moan escapes him.
"Ben . . . Ben . . . Can you hear me?" His eyes flutter, and he releases another moan.
"Oh, my God . . . Karen." I yell out toward the hall and frantically press the call button near his bed.
"Ben?” His eyes open and close a few times before focusing them on me.
"Ari?" It comes out like a whisper, and it’s the best sound I’ll ever hear.
1 year, 6 months later . . .
THE JINGLING OF KEYS MAKES her stop mid-concerto. Her body stiffens as her aunt tells us she needs to leave. I fight with that demon inside me that has wanted to touch her. Soft whimpers wrack her body, and a stream of silent tears fall from her little round cheeks. She's nervous and I'm at war with myself now to keep my restraint. Swiping at a stray tear with my thumb, I can’t help the urge to taste her. The salty taste goes directly to my groin. I’m engulfed in her sweet scent. My heart races. Don't touch her . . . don't touch her . . . Her trembling hands match my own. I place her open palm on my thigh. She grips it tightly, and it's almost my undoing. Almost . . .
Every fiber of my being is screaming for me to stop. I know it's wrong, but the need takes over. Blinded with want, I move her hand over the hard ridge of my pants. She sucks in a breath, and I close my eyes. It takes two small thrusts of my hips before I'm undone. My hand falls away, and she's up and gone before I've opened them.
What have I done? The adrenaline of both ecstasy and fear run through my body. I quickly gather my things, and as I’m putting the last of my books into my satchel, the front door opens.
"All done?" her mother asks cheerily.
"Yup. I'll just let myself out. See you next week."
“Solis, you have a visitor.” The loud slam of the bars wakes me from sleep. I glare at him angrily for pulling me away from the only moments I have left with my sweet girl.
I place my wallet, my watch, and my keys in the plastic bowl before stepping through the metal detector. The green light flashes the okay, and I wait in line to be ushered in. The guard to my left passes a wand over my body while the other pats me down. It’s my first time here and most definitely my last.
Dr. Stone thinks I’m holding on to my anger and that visiting this asshole will give me some closure. Closure would be having him six feet under.
We’re led in groups to a brightly lit room. The woman standing next to me walks to one of the eight empty chairs, obviously a veteran of the process. I quickly follow suit and sit behind the cubicle style desk. The loud buzz and sound of a sliding door makes me sit up straighter. My attention focuses on the glass partition in front of me. One by one, I watch as inmates wearing blue jumpsuits walk in and look for their guest.
He’s the last one to walk in, and he’s unable to hide his shock as he meets my eyes. The man I knew no longer exists. I wouldn’t recognize him if I saw him walking down the street. His once neatly cropped hair is now long and disheveled. The purple shadows under his eyes are a tell of his many sleepless nights.
I pick up the black receiver gesturing for him to do the same. He hesitates for a second before sitting down.
“What are-”
“I don’t need you to talk,” I say cutting him off. “I just need you to listen.” He nods. I’ve rehearsed what I want to say about a hundred times, but no words will ever cause the pain I wish to inflict on him.
“You were dead to me the minute I saw you put your hands on her. My family took you in when you had nothing, and they should have left you with nothing like the piece of shit you turned out to be.” His head bows, and I slap the glass to regain his attention. “You’ll never touch what’s mine again,” I grit. His eyes narrow letting me know I’ve hit a nerve. “So when you’re all alone, with nothing but your fucked-up delusions keeping you company, know that the object of your affection will be wrapped in my arms every night.”
His chair hits the ground as he lunges toward the glass. “I should have fucking killed you when I had the chance, you little prick,” he screams.
I watch as two guards tackle him to the ground, his legs kick and flail in an attempt to get free. Calmly placing the phone on the receiver, I leave the room to the sound of his muffled cries.
Closure.
I’m lost to the sound of crashing waves as the crisp breeze brushes across my skin. I’m on the balcony of our new townhome soaking up the view of the ocean. Ben sold Nana Rosemarie’s house, and when all was said and done, we wanted a place to make our own. Somewhere we could plant roots and make new memories without the old ones tainting our little piece of happy.
Closing my eyes, I tilt my face toward the sun. A smile spreads at the feel of his strong arms wrapping around me.
“Hey, handsome.” I melt into him as the mix of my favorite cologne and sea air engulfs my senses.
“Hey,” he says placing a kiss on my neck.
“How did it go?”
He rests his chin on my shoulder and waits for a beat before answering. “I talked . . . he listened. It went as well as I expected,” he says with a heavy sigh.
Turning to face him, I attempt to gauge his mood. He’s averted his gaze, and I use it as a sign not to press for any more. After sitting in on a few of my sessions, Dr. Stone recommended that he go visit Amos. He finally agreed. Today was the visit.
“Are we about ready to leave?” I ask changing the subject.
“The car’s all packed. I’m ready when you are.”
My sister, Amelie, is celebrating her twenty-first birthday this weekend, and we’ve planned a big group trip. It’s the first vacation we’ve taken since that bastard’s been put away.
Ben gets a call from Eli just as we pass the giant thermometer in Baker. I hum along to the radio as he finishes his call, eager to start our weekend.
“All right, man, just give us a call when you get closer.”
“So what time do Vonne and Eli get in?” I ask as he ends his call.
“They just hit Barstow, so they shouldn’t be too far behind.”
I nod, focusing my attention on the setting sun outside my window. The car slows, and he begins to veer toward the exit.
“Funny, Rodriguez. What th
e hell are you doing?” He knows I’m in a hurry to get there, and we’re in the middle of nowhere. Not the ideal setting for an unplanned stop.
“Do you trust me?” he asks with a mischievous grin.
“That depends. Are you planning on having me whacked Tony Soprano style?” He chuckles and hands me a bandana.
“Here, put this over your eyes.” I look at him like he’s just lost his damn mind.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m not having you whacked, Ari. Now put the darn blindfold on. You’re gonna ruin my surprise.”
“Yeah. Surprise, you’re getting murdered,” I mutter while tying the material around my head. My comment makes him laugh a little harder.
Eyes now shrouded in darkness, we drive for a few minutes before the car comes to a stop. My breathing picks up as I hear him get out of the car. I don’t know why I’m so nervous; I’d trust him with my life.
“Okay, babe. Swing your feet out and I’ll help you.” I do as I’m told and feel the warmth of his palm as he helps to guide me out. The door slams behind me, and he tucks my hand under his arm.
“I’ll take it slow. The ground is flat, so just keep one foot in front of the other.” I always do. All of my other senses have been heightened. I hear the faint sound of music in the background and the murmur of people’s voices. We stop, and his hands brace my shoulders before making their way to the blindfold.
“Wait, don’t I at least get a cigarette before you shoot me?” He chuckles pressing a sweet kiss to my lips and slides the blindfold off the rest of the way.
“Surprise,” he whispers.
It takes a few seconds for my eyes to focus
“Holy shit.” I gasp and pull him into a tight hug. “How did you? When did you?” Words escape me as I take in the whole scene. We’re in the middle of the Mojave surrounded by thousands of people. Large square columns change in color as rays of purple light guide our path. A sea of silver torches stick out of the ground and the music I heard is coming from a DJ playing on a giant stage in the distance.
“Take that, Flynn Rider,” he says with a smug smile as I bring him in for another kiss.
Tangled is one of my favorite Disney movies, and I’ve tortured Ben on more than one occasion to watch it with me. The lantern scene toward the end always makes me cry, so when I found out they have an actual festival in real life . . . Let’s just say, I haven’t shut up about it.
“So? Good surprise?”
“Best surprise,” I say wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Okay good. You think now that you’re going to witness it in person, you’ll lay off torturing me with that movie for a while?”
“Nope.”
“Yeah, didn’t think so.” He sighs. “All right, here you go,” he says handing me what looks like a round paper bag and a marker. “This is your show, babe. Now what?” he asks laying out two small mats.
“Now, we get to writing. It can be anything you want, random words, a note, a wish.” We sit and he takes our lanterns out of the plastic packages.
At first, it was just about seeing the pretty lights, but now that I’m here, I see that it’s about so much more. Everyone around us concentrates on decorating their lanterns. Ben and I stare at them blankly for a few minutes before we begin writing. Four words come to mind: Strength, Courage, Truth, and Love. All of them sum up the past year. I found the strength to carry on when I didn’t think I could, gained the courage to face my fears, and shared my truth, which in turn led me to the most epic love.
I finish writing the last word, just as Ben is doing the same.
“All done?” he asks smiling up at me. His lantern says Nana on the front with the dates of her birth and death. Underneath it reads To my guardian angel, I miss you. I love you. Until we meet again.
“She’s going to love it,” I say pointing to the note.
“Hope so.” He shrugs.
We stand just as a voice calls out over the speakers that it’s time. Holding the lantern over the torches, we light each one and wait for the countdown.
“3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . 0.” We let go, and I watch in awe as people’s hopes and dreams illuminate the night’s sky. They disappear into the distance and one lantern trails behind, struggling to catch the wind; the large block letters catch my eye. At second glance, the words become clear Ari, Will You Marry Me?
Eyes wide, I turn toward Ben and find him down on one knee. His dimpled smile melts my heart as he grips my trembling hand. The other covers my mouth in disbelief.
“The moment I laid eyes on you, I had to have you. I knew then that one night would never be enough, and now, I want them all. Your days . . . Your nights . . . Forever. I love you, Arely Muñoz. Will you marry me?”
He opens a black velvet box, and I gasp. A beautiful rose gold ring with a diamond-encrusted band sits inside. The large emerald-cut diamond sparkles against the backdrop of the lights overhead.
“Yes,” I choke out. Cheers break out around us. He stands and pulls me into his arms, pressing a tender kiss to my lips. He leaves me breathless as I wipe away tears.
“Open your hand.” I do and watch as he places the ring on my open palm.
“It belonged to my grandmother.”
“It’s beautiful,” I say picking it up to get a better look.
“Look at the inscription.”
I tilt it toward the light. Mine.
Meeting those amber eyes, I smile.
“Always yours.”
Summer 2016
Vonne
IT'S BEEN WEEKS SINCE I'VE had contact with friends and family. I've been holed up in my apartment for what feels like a year. The bar exam is four days away, and I've read every book, taken every class, and watched every damn YouTube video known to man in preparation for this thing. Do you know thousands of videos revolve around taking this test?
40%. That number stares back at me and the reality of it makes me want to vomit. California currently has a 40% passing rate. What if I'm one of the losers in the sixty percent who doesn’t pass? What if I've missed out on years of my life for nothing? My cursor is hovering over the FAQs about reapplying when a loud knock sounds on my front door.
I'm in the middle of placing my laptop on the couch cushion when another loud bang sounds on the door. "Geez, keep your hair on," I mutter.
My ponytail is a ratty mess, and I've been wearing the same pink sweats for at least the last three days. Another knock sounds on the door.
"Who is it?" I finally shout.
"UPS."
"Just leave it by the door."
"Sorry, ma'am, I can't. I need a signature."
Fuck. I'm going to shank the bastard who is making me open this door right now.
The sun blinds me the minute I open it. Placing my hand on my forehead in mock salute seems to help. "Where's Pat?" I grumble while signing on the dotted line.
My usual guy is in his late fifties, balding, and happily married. Of course, on the off chance I decide not to shower and sport my homeless look, they send a fricken Dolce & Gabbana model to deliver my package. Double shank.
"He's in Hawaii celebrating his twenty-fifth wedding anniversary,” he says handing me a white box.
"That's awesome. Tell him Vonne said congratulations." He looks at me quizzically for a moment before nodding.
I have a small addiction to online shopping. Pat is here at least every other week with a new box. We're now on a first name basis, so he'll know exactly which Vonne, Hottie Mchottieson out there is referring to.
I kick the door shut behind me and head back to the couch. The return address on the box doesn't offer a name, and I could only hope whoever sent this also included a card. I use my car keys to cut through the tape. Ah-ha. A small note card sits on top of the tissue paper.
Vonne,
I tried calling you, but you’re not answering your damn phone. What if there was an emergency and someone needed to get a hold of you. What if I were dying? I'm not, of course;
I don't need you worrying before taking this exam. BUT WHAT IF I WERE. I love you; stop worrying, and TAKE A DAMN SHOWER. I can smell you from here.
Xoxo Ari
Ari and her damn shouty capitals. I dig through a mountain of pink tissue paper and find a wine bag. This girl knows the way to my heart. As I slide out Ari's favorite brand of sangria, I notice it's covered in bling and another card hangs around the neck.
It reads:
As I prepare for the day to become Ben's bride.
There is no other person I would rather have than you sipping by my side.
Will you be my maid of honor?
Tears stream down my face. We've been like sisters growing up, and I'm completely honored that she even considered me for the position. I'm reaching for my cell when a thought occurs to me. If I'm maid of honor, then that means Ben asked Eli.
His name hasn’t passed my lips in months. I drop my head to the back of the couch.
This should be fun.
TO MY AMAZING HUSBAND FOR your patience and unwavering support throughout this project, I love you. Thank you for restocking my Starbucks Caramel Macchiato and making sure I at least had a blanket when I fell asleep on the recliner. To my babies, thank you for having patience with mom when she’s trying to help you with homework and work out plot holes. I love you both.
Writing is a solitary process but it takes a village to get it ready to publish and I’m glad that the following people are part of mine:
KF Germaine, you were an incredible help with my first book and I can’t thank you enough for your help the second time around. I miss our messenger bitch fests.
Angie Brashears, your friendship these last few months has meant the world to me. Thank you for talking me off the ledge and giving me a swift kick in the ass when I needed it. Words could never express how grateful I am for your help. Your brutal honesty has turned this book into something I could be proud of.