Riven

by Lissa Del

  “What could I possibly do?”

  She sits up straighter and looks me dead in the eye. “Leo needs to have that surgery.”

  The question is implied and I consider it for a long moment. Deep down, I know that she’s asking because he won’t listen to her, but he might listen to me, because right now, I’m the one he loves – the one he cares for. And if I convince him to go ahead with this surgery, I won’t be anymore.

  “I know the sacrifice I’m asking of you. I know how badly this will hurt you and I’m truly sorry. You seem like a nice person, but he’s my husband. I’ve loved him since med-school. You’ve had seven or eight months with him, but I’ve had over a decade.”

  I watch in mortified horror as her eyes pool suddenly, glittering for only a moment before a solitary tear spills over, gliding quickly down her cheek as if it has somewhere important to be. In the brief time it takes that tear to reach the curve of her chin, my heart breaks.

  CHAPTER 33

  I walk to my car in a daze. I look back at the house one last time, the white columns bordering the mahogany door, the perfectly trimmed verge, even the rose bushes which seem to stand to attention and I am struck anew at how different it is from my own home – cluttered, messy, imperfect. Why would Leo ever want me when he has this, I think, and then, laughing almost hysterically, it occurs to me that he has bona fide brain damage and it makes perfect sense.

  I get into my car and dig in my purse for my phone. There’s another missed call from Leo. I ignore it and find Jess’s number in my call log. She answers on the second ring.

  “Jess,” I manage to croak before my voice fails me.

  “Sarah?” she asks frantically. “Sarah, what’s wrong.”

  “Leo’s married,” I gulp.

  There’s a long pause and I try to catch my breath. Here, in the claustrophobic confines of my car, the reality of what’s just happened crashes over me in a stifling wave.

  “Where are you?” Jess asks.

  “In my car.” I can’t bring myself to tell her I’m outside his house. Not yet.

  “Get over here now. You come straight here, Sarah, no stopping. I’m timing you.”

  Somehow I manage the drive to Jess’s apartment, although the tears blurring my vision impede my progress. By the time I knock on her door she has worked herself up into a frenzy. She yanks open the door and pulls me inside.

  “Thank God,” she says, flinging her arms around me. “I thought something had happened. What took you so long?”

  “She’s a doctor,” I sob into her shoulder. “And she’s nice. I wanted to hate her, but I can’t.”

  “You met her?” Jess pushes me gently away, holding me at arm’s length so she can see my face. “Oh Sarah, why would you do that to yourself?”

  She lets me cry it out. We sit on the sofa and I tell her everything. Halfway through Tom arrives, but I don’t stop, the words pouring out of me in a river of sadness and heartbreak. When I finally finish, they sit, stunned, digesting.

  “I can’t actually believe it,” Jess says eventually. “What a mind-fuck.”

  “What are you going to do?” Tom asks, not unkindly.

  “What else can I do? He has to go through with the surgery, obviously.”

  “Why?” Jess demands, looking angry. “He’s happy, you’re happy. This Clare woman has no right to ask this of you.”

  “She does, Jess! Of course she does. She’s his wife.”

  “From what you’ve heard from Ellen she wasn’t exactly a good wife.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He married her – he took a vow long before he met me. She has to come first.”

  “That son-of-a-bitch!” Jess’s anger changes direction so quickly I struggle to keep up. “I’m going to kill him.”

  “It’s not really his fault,” Tom points out, playing devil’s advocate, but he falls silent at Jess’s fierce look.

  As if on cue my phone rings. I retrieve it from the depth of my purse and fresh tears well in my eyes.

  “Give me that,” Jess demands, snatching the phone. She scowls at Leo’s name and then gets abruptly to her feet. I slump on the sofa beyond the point of caring whether she yells at him or not. I feel numb, like a hollowed-out version of myself, but I know it won’t last. My body is holding my emotion at bay to protect itself but I’ll have to face it eventually.

  “Listen here, you son-of-a-bitch,” Jess snaps into the phone, “you stay away from Sarah. Don’t you dare come looking for her. If I see you within a hundred yards of my place I’m calling the cops. And get out of her place,” she adds menacingly, “Tom’s coming to pick up her clothes and he’s got my pepper spray.” She disconnects the call and switches my phone off.

  “I have to talk to him, Jess,” I say in a small voice.

  “Yes,” she agrees, “but not today you don’t. Let him wait. You don’t owe him anything.” She strides across the room and digs in her own purse. “Here,” she says, tossing it to Tom.

  “What the hell are you giving me this for?” Tom asks.

  “Didn’t you hear me?” Jess’s eyes widen with irritation. “You’re going to get Sarah’s stuff.”

  “I am not taking your pepper spray over there,” he retorts.

  “What if Leo’s there, huh? What are you going to do?” she challenges.

  Tom looks at her as if she’s sprouted a second head.

  “Um… I’m going to say ‘Hi, Leo, I’m here to pick up Sarah’s stuff’. Jeez, Jess, this isn’t Def Con One.”

  “Whatever,” Jess snaps in annoyance at his departing back. “And bring that bag of Jalapeno poppers in the cupboard above the sink!”

  I spend the weekend fluctuating between bouts of deep depression and righteous anger. I cry buckets, fuelled by a never-ending supply of red wine. At night I sleep fitfully between my two best friends, their support and solidarity protecting me from the horrors outside of my weekend cocoon. So touching is their concern that Tom doesn’t even complain about having to share a bed with Jess’s feet.

  “You do not have to go to college today,” Jess announces when she wakes up on Monday morning to find me getting dressed. I hoist up my pants, Tom giving a cry of alarm as my butt veers dangerously in his direction.

  “I do,” I insist, heading for the bathroom. “They’re announcing the advanced placement winner today.” One look at my face in the mirror and I realise that no amount of makeup can conceal my puffy eyes or the pastiness of my skin. Still, I slap on some bronzing concealer and a defiant coat of red lipstick. I pull a face at my own reflection. I look like Dracula’s bride.

  By the time I emerge Jess is already dressed.

  “I’m driving you in,” she instructs. “Give me five minutes.”

  I make my way to the living-room while I wait and switch my phone on for the first time since Saturday night when Jess turned it off. I have thirteen missed calls from Leo and a bunch of messages. I don’t read any of them.

  “We’re going to be late,” I tell Jess when she finally comes down the hall. Her hair is gathered in the familiar messy bunches on top of her head and her eyeliner is so thick it looks like she’s been punched in the face. Twice.

  “Who cares?” she asks. “Are you sure you want to do this? You know he’ll probably be there.” Keeping Leo away from her apartment is one thing, but banning him from campus is beyond even Jess’s control.

  “I know, but I have to face him eventually, I may as well get it over with.” On impulse I step forward and hug her. “Thank you for this weekend. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you guys.”

  “We’re a squad,” Jess replies easily, “that’s what squads do.”

  We are almost at the campus when my phone rings.

  “Don’t answer it,” Jess warns.

  “It’s the college,” I say, looking at the number on the screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Sarah,” Dianna’s gravelly voice doesn’t sound pleased and my hand convulses over the phone.


  “Dianna? What… what’s wrong?”

  She doesn’t hold any punches. “Look, there’s no easy way to tell you this, Sarah, but Burke & Duke have just announced the recipient of the internship. I wanted to tell you in person, but I stopped by your class and it appears you’re not coming in today.”

  “I am, I’m just running a little late,” I answer automatically, my mind still trying to process what she’s just said. “I didn’t get it,” I whisper. Jess’s head whips toward me but I can’t look at her. I keep my eyes on the road ahead.

  “No,” Dianna heaves a weary sigh, “I’m afraid you didn’t. They gave it to Samantha.”

  I try to swallow down the hard lump which has formed in my throat but it won’t budge.

  “Well,” I say, trying to feign camaraderie, “she obviously deserved it.”

  “Actually,” Dianna’s voice drops an octave, “Samantha didn’t beat you. She won by default.”

  “Default?”

  “Yes. She won because you were disqualified.”

  “Disqualified?” My cheeks flame, even though I know I have done nothing wrong.

  “Burke & Duke claim you tried to influence the panel’s decision.”

  We pull into the campus lot in a screech of rubber and white smoke, Jess’s own anger weighing her foot down heavily on the accelerator. I am vaguely aware that Leo’s SUV is parked a few spaces down, but I ignore it, focusing instead on the sporty Audi at the far end of the lot. I sprint into the main campus, the sound of my footsteps echoing through the halls. Jess falls behind but she doesn’t call me back.

  Noah’s lecture hall is empty, the lights switched off, but I know he’s here somewhere. I try the library and the administrator’s office, but it is in the cafeteria that I finally track him down. Noah is sitting with Luke, Jess’s mentor, and when he sees me, the look on my face wipes the smug smile from his.

  “You son-of-a-bitch!” I yell, each word punctuated by a step. Noah scrambles to his feet just in time to meet my right hook, my closed fist slamming into his cheekbone. He stumbles back a few steps, much to my dismay. I’d hoped to at least land him on his ass.

  A few cat-calls rise from the tables around us, but I ignore them.

  “Sarah!” Luke grabs me from behind as Noah rubs his jaw. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Ask him,” I hiss, pointing at Noah. “You got me disqualified!” I yell, writhing in Luke’s grasp.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sarah,” Noah says, but his words ring false. I’m obviously not the only one who thinks so, because Luke rounds on Noah, his grip on my arms loosening.

  “Did you?” he asks incredulously. “Tell me you wouldn’t stoop that low, Noah?”

  “There’s shark-shit that floats higher than him!” I cry, tears stinging my eyelids. “There’s nothing he wouldn’t stoop to.”

  “Prove it!” Noah retorts maliciously, his eyes gleaming. Of course I have no proof – that’s the whole point. Noah has won and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

  “How could you do this to me?” I ask. The anger is draining from my body giving way to despair and hopelessness. Luke has released me and is regarding Noah with a disgusted expression. “I worked so God-damned hard, Noah. This is all I had left,” I add, and then, like a cable being cut, I collapse. Or I would have, if strong arms hadn’t reached for me, holding me up.

  “I’ve got you.” I hear Leo’s voice, but my eyes feel too heavy to open. “And as for you, you conniving shit,” he adds, and I feel his shoulder moving as he points at Noah, “I’ll be dealing with you later. Don’t get too comfortable.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Noah’s outrage is evident, but his voice fades as Leo carries me from the room. I’m aware of a small figure hurtling past us in the opposite direction and then I hear the sounds of a scuffle and Jess’s high-pitched voice calling Noah out, permeated by the thuds of her handbag hitting his flesh and Luke Hanson half-heartedly telling her to cut it out.

  “Sarah,” Leo lowers me gently to my feet when we get outside. My legs are trembling but I hold onto his arm for support.

  “I lost the internship.”

  “I figured as much.” His eyes are searching my face, my own pain reflected in the blue orbs.

  “And I met your wife,” I add, tears splashing from my cheeks. He pulls me to his chest, his fingers tangled in my hair and an inhuman growl of anguish rumbles through him.

  “I figured that too, love.”

  CHAPTER 34

  I don’t remember the drive home although at some point Leo called Jess and told her in no uncertain terms that she was to stay out of this until he and I had talked.

  I stand as far from him as I can on the ride up to my apartment and he doesn’t try to touch me. He steps out of the elevator before me, arm outstretched and, wordlessly, I hand him the keys.

  “We’re going to talk,” he says, opening the door and gesturing me inside. “No arguments there.” I square my shoulders and walk inside. The apartment feels cold and unfamiliar, as if all the happy memories of the past few months with Leo have left, along with the possibility of a future with him.

  We stand in the living room facing one another. I want to keep him at a distance, but just the sight of him, his eyes as bruised as mine, the dark circles below them and his hair standing all on end, breaks my heart. He hasn’t slept much either and I wonder who he turned to for support this weekend.

  “Where have you been staying?” I ask.

  “At my place.” Alone, the words seem to imply.

  “And you spoke to Ellen?”

  “Yes. She told me about your conversation and that you were planning to meet Clare.” There is an underlying question in his statement and I’m stunned to learn he hasn’t confirmed this with Clare herself.

  “I did. She’s lovely.”

  “I wasn’t looking for your approval.”

  “Well you’ve got it. Your house is amazing, by the way.”

  “Stop it.”

  I consent, the fight going out of me.

  “What happened, Sarah?”

  “I called her. I wanted to hear her side of the story after Ellen told me what happened.” My eyes light on his scar and I lift my hand, tracing the raised ridge beneath my fingers. “You forgot to mention this part.”

  “I didn’t forget. I just thought it would be better coming from Ellen.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s objective. Because you don’t trust me as much as you did before. Because…”

  “Because you don’t like to talk about it?” I prompt, and he raises his eyes to the ceiling in frustration.

  “You’ve definitely been talking to Clare.”

  “She loves you.”

  “I love you.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Think about it, Leo. If this injury is truly affecting you as Ellen explained, everything you think you know or believe to be true could turn out to be false when you’re healed.”

  “No,” he shakes his head so hard that his copper hair flies around his head. “Nothing is going to change how I feel about you.”

  “Prove it.” He starts at this challenge. “Prove it,” I repeat. “If you’re so sure that nothing will change how you feel then have the surgery. Prove that you really love me. Prove Clare wrong.”

  “Sarah, that’s ridiculous…”

  “It’s the only way I can be with you, Leo. I won’t live a lie.”

  “I’m not having that surgery.”

  “Why? What are you afraid of? Deep down you must have some doubts or you wouldn’t think twice about it.”

  “Wouldn’t think twice about a potentially fatal surgical option that could leave me dead on the table or brain dead?”

  “You’re a doctor Leo, you deal with risk every day. I don’t buy it.”

  “Why can’t you all just let me be?” he yells, “I like who I am now, I don’t want t
o change any single part of my life. Why isn’t that enough?”

  “Because it’s not you! This isn’t even your life! Your life was taken from you over a year ago and you can’t just forget about it!”

  “I didn’t forget about it!” he roars, with the impassioned emotion of a man who hasn’t been heard. “I remember everything! I just don’t want it anymore!”

  I bite my lip. It’s killing me to do this but I can’t turn back now. It would be so easy to just leave well enough alone and stay with Leo – with my Leo – the man he is today, the man who swept me off my feet and made me fall in love with him. But that would be the coward’s way out of this.

  “I’m sorry, Leo but I won’t be with you like this.”

  “But you’ll be with me if I go ahead with the surgery?” His voice is hardened by the fact that I’ve backed him into a corner, but beneath his anger I can hear the hope. Leo is actually considering it and this alone shatters my heart into a million pieces because if I had harboured any doubt before, this proves how much he loves me; enough to do something he is violently opposed to doing if it means we’ll be together.

  “Yes,” I smile, a bittersweet, rueful smile that doesn’t reach my eyes because I know, deep down, that Leo will not love me when this is over. He will love Clare – the woman he is supposed to be with. The woman he almost died to protect. The woman he took a bullet for. If he goes through with this surgery my Leo will be lost to me and the grief that fills me at the thought is almost too much to bear. His eyes are glittering with fear and regret and I know, without a doubt, that he knows it too.

  He holds my gaze as the seconds count down and then, almost weeping, he nods and utters the words that cut through the tattered remnants of my heart.

  “I’ll do it. If it’ll make you stay, then I’ll do it. I can’t live without you.” I barely have time to register the enormity of what this means when he has me in his arms, crushing me against him until I am struggling to breathe. His lips are on my hair, my cheeks, my mouth and through the blind misery overwhelming me, I hear him whisper, “Please, Sarah, love me.”