Jane’s voice was soft. “I’m glad you called.”
“Me, too.” When will I see you again? The question was on her lips, but she couldn’t say it. “Bye.”
The call ended, and Izzy looked at her phone. They hadn’t talked about next steps or when she could call again. She stood and picked up her laptop. As she hurried down the hall to the meeting room, her phone buzzed.
I love you. I’ll call you tonight.
The words blurred on the screen, and she smiled through the sting of unshed tears.
She opened the door to the meeting room and was halfway to an empty seat when she realized none of the people in the room were on her team. She stopped in her tracks and stared back at all of the eyes on her.
“Are you here to go over the code merge scheduled for this afternoon, Izzy?” Hector asked, with a smile. “Otherwise, I think you’re looking for the documentation daily meeting next door.”
* * *
You know how they say your mistakes don’t define you, that it’s your response to them that does? Or something like that. I told you, I’m terrible at remembering quotes. But you get the idea, right? The point is, people are going to make mistakes in their relationships. We all do. But when we do, it’s important to own up to them and try to make things right. So, when you make a mistake—and, like I said, you will make mistakes—the best thing you can do is learn how to say you’re sorry.
Don’t just say it. Mean it. Be sorry you hurt someone you care about. Be sorry your actions had an undesired effect on someone else. The worst kind of apology is when it’s obvious you don’t mean it.
The simple steps to a successful apology: recognize the other person is upset, acknowledge what they are upset about, and apologize from the heart. That’s it. Nothing else. If you want to do additional nice things like buy them flowers, that’s cool, too.
Chapter Forty-one
Izzy fed the animals and noted she wasn’t hungry, but she had to eat. Three pounds of M&M’s and a few cups of coffee over the course of a couple of days was not what she’d consider a nutritious balance. Between not eating well and not sleeping more than a few hours each night, she was starting to feel run down. Between miserable nutrition and her depression over Jane’s absence, she was headed in a very unhealthy direction.
Amid the gluttonous crunching of kibble going on in the corner of the kitchen, she opened the freezer and stared into it. With the door still wide open, she looked behind her at the phone sitting on the counter. Its silence screamed at her. She would not call Jane. Jane said she would call her. She turned back to the freezer. Nothing looked good, and after five minutes of staring, she still hadn’t decided and the phone hadn’t rung. Sigh. She wasn’t going to call. What would be the easiest thing to make, then? Uninspired, she selected a tray of frozen enchiladas. And with just her to eat it, she’d have leftovers for a few days. Eating the same thing for four or five meals in a row didn’t matter if she didn’t care if she ate or not.
Izzy turned on the oven to preheat and removed the plastic wrap from the frozen dinner. She was contemplating whether the plastic wrap went into the recycling or the garbage when Gus did something entirely unheard of. He left his meal half-finished and ran into the living room. The doorbell rang a second later.
When Izzy reached the living room, Gus was dancing near the front door.
“Are you expecting a package, young man?” He barely paid attention to her, and she pulled him back and blocked him from the door as she opened it.
Jane was standing on the doorstep with Lester, who ran forward, nearly knocking Izzy off her feet. She still had Gus by the collar, but he pulled out of her hands, and the two dogs immediately started to play in the middle of the living room.
But Izzy’s eyes were only on Jane. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Jane’s eyes were sad, but she was still beautiful. Izzy ached at the sight of her. Her immediate response was to hug her, but she didn’t dare.
Izzy realized she was staring, and she stepped back. “Come in.” It was a weird situation. Jane lived here. At least most of her stuff was still here. She shouldn’t have to be invited in.
“I should have called.” Jane walked in and stopped a few steps away.
“I’m just making dinner.” Izzy shut the door and walked around her. She hoped Jane would follow her into the kitchen. “Enchiladas.”
Jane gave a little laugh. “Déjà vu.”
Izzy was suddenly aware of the contrast between the first time Jane had been to her house and now. Except she felt as if land mines were peppering the landscape. Sadness stabbed her.
“There’s more than enough for two if you want to stay.”
“Do you want me to?” Jane followed her through the living room, sounding so unsure.
“I’d love it.” I wish you’d stay forever.
“Then I will.”
“Good.” She wanted to dance. “I was just preheating the oven.”
Jane followed her to the kitchen, dropping her bag and keys on the same part of the counter she always did, and sat on one of the stools at the counter while Izzy put the enchiladas in the oven.
“So…how have you been?” Izzy leaned against the kitchen island. Two days felt like a year.
Jane looked like she might cry. “Lonely.”
Izzy wrestled with an overpowering urge to go around the counter to hug her, but she wasn’t sure Jane would welcome her.
“And I miss you,” Jane added.
She turned around to set the timer because she suddenly wanted to cry. “I miss you, too,” she said with her back to her.
She heard a sob. Izzy couldn’t do anything else. She came around the counter, spun Jane’s stool around so she faced her, and pulled her into her arms.
“I miss you so much,” Jane whispered into her chest.
Izzy squeezed her tighter, unable to speak through the lump in her throat. All she wanted to say was come back.
“I was a jerk. I shouldn’t have left.” Jane’s words were hard to understand through her sobs.
Izzy found her voice. “I get it. You have to figure things out. You need space.”
“I should have talked to you. Tried to work it out. But I left instead.” Jane held onto her with a desperate tightness Izzy found wonderful. She wanted her. She needed her. The pain in Jane’s voice broke her heart, though. She had to fix it.
“Do you…do you want to talk about things? Work it out?”
Jane leaned back and her face was wet with tears. “I want to go back to where we left off and pretend it didn’t happen.”
As much as Izzy wanted that to be a real option, she knew it wasn’t. “While it tempts me to try, I’m not sure we can just declare a do-over. But I’m open to figuring things out.”
Jane’s face crumpled. “Did I break things too much?”
Izzy regretted how she’d shut Jane out of an important facet of her life. It had left an invisible barrier between them. “If anyone broke things, it was me. I should have told you about things way before.”
“I should have told you I already knew.”
Izzy pulled back slightly, surprised. “You knew what?” She must have misunderstood.
Jane wiped tears from her eyes. “About your bipolar disorder.”
Izzy took a step back, confused. “When?” She eased onto the other stool.
“The first night I stayed over here. I went into your medicine cabinet to find some toothpaste and saw your medicine.”
Izzy blew out her breath. “You knew.”
“I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to think I intentionally went snooping. I didn’t mean to. I swear. But when I saw them, I was concerned for you. I looked them up. I felt so guilty.”
“I wouldn’t have cared if you had.” That wasn’t true, she immediately chided herself. She’d been self-conscious about it all along, hiding it.
“But it was your business. If I had just said something then, but I didn’t. I never do. I’ve spent my
life not saying anything.” Jane wiped her eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“With my parents. With my siblings. With my coworkers. With my exes. I avoid things, and I ruin things.” Jane turned her stool toward the counter and put her head in her hands.
Izzy had spent so much time dissecting herself, she had never guessed Jane was struggling with anything other than the secret Izzy had kept. Izzy felt even more guilty for not having been aware of Jane’s struggle. She gently spun the chair back so Jane faced her and took her hands again. “We’re not ruined. At least, I don’t think we are.” She kissed her hands.
Jane ran her fingers down Izzy’s cheek. “I don’t want us to be ruined.”
“Then we aren’t.” Izzy leaned forward, staring into Jane’s eyes. She needed her to see how strongly she believed what she was saying. “We can get through this.”
Jane clasped Izzy’s hands and pulled them to her chest. “I want us to be okay. You don’t know how badly I want it.”
Izzy had never seen Jane look so intense—and so vulnerable. She needed to protect her. “I’m absolutely positive we can fix this. We just need to talk it out.”
Jane looked away. “I don’t know how to. I’ve spent so much of my life avoiding hard conversations.”
Izzy decided to go first. “Well, I can start.” She straightened in her chair. “I’m bipolar, and I hid that fact from you, or at least, I tried to. And by hiding it from you, I acted weird instead of just telling you I need to have a regular sleep schedule, and I exercise when I’m trying to maintain control of myself. And when I feel like I’m losing control, I sometimes get single focused on things like stupid schedules.”
Jane sighed. “I knew how important the schedule was to you. I just didn’t stop to think there might be more to it.”
Izzy pushed a lock of hair behind Jane’s ear. “If I had been open about my illness, you wouldn’t have felt like just another task on a checklist. You’re more important than anything on a list.”
Jane took a deep, shuddering breath and rested her head against Izzy’s chest. “I’ve been miserable without you.” Izzy wrapped her arms around Jane. They sat that way for a few minutes, and their breathing synchronized. Peace settled over Izzy even though they hadn’t finished talking things out. They’d get through this. She knew it.
Jane sighed and sat up. Her gaze searched Izzy’s, and Izzy wanted her to see that nothing she said or did would drive them apart again.
“I guess it’s my turn.” Jane seemed to steady herself. “I’m a master at compartmentalizing the hard things in my life.”
Izzy furrowed her brow. “Is that so terrible?”
“It is when you compartmentalize and don’t deal.”
“What do you mean?”
“My sister moved back to town.”
Izzy wondered what that had to do with anything. “Interesting.” And now she sounded like Tori. Might as well go for broke. “Tell me more about it.”
“She said she wanted to be closer to our family.”
Izzy still didn’t understand how her sister moving back factored into anything. Jane never talked about her family except for a few stories about her father and to say she wished she and her siblings were closer. “Well, I know you missed her. When did she get back?”
“A couple of months ago.”
“Oh.” That long? Why hadn’t she said anything? It seemed like something she’d have told her casually, maybe even have been excited about. Especially considering the situation between Jane and her parents. Did Jane not want her to meet any of her family? Her feelings were hurt. Some of the disconnection she’d felt in the days leading up to when Jane left came back. Her chest felt heavy. She didn’t know what to say.
Jane looked at her hands. “I know. I should have told you.”
“Why didn’t you? You don’t have to tell me everything, but this is obviously a thing you don’t feel comfortable about, and I want to understand.”
Jane rubbed her temple. “It’s this whole thing with my parents.”
“But this is your sister. She’s supportive of you.”
Jane frowned and wrinkled her nose, which was a lot more emotion about this topic than she’d shown before. “I told you it didn’t go well when I came out.” Jane unconsciously cradled her left arm as she spoke. “My sister and brother always stood up for me, even when I wouldn’t stand up for myself. I always felt guilty about it, but they understood. When Leticia decided to move back, she told me she wasn’t going to let Mom and Dad ruin my life.”
“Okay…” She still wasn’t tracking.
Jane raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know Leticia.”
True. She didn’t know any of Jane’s family. “You’re right. I don’t.”
“She can get a bit pushy.”
“Why would she feel the need to get pushy with me?”
“I wasn’t afraid she’d get pushy with you, but that she’d use you to confront my parents. She’d have no problem with pulling you right into the middle of it.”
“Is that really what you’re afraid of? Because I can deal with whatever comes up.”
Jane was adamant. “Not this, Izzy. You’re a wonderful, strong woman, but I don’t think you know what you’d be faced with.”
Jane was cradling her arm again.
“Explain it to me.”
“I…I…” Jane started to cry. Izzy stood and wrapped her arms around her, and Jane leaned into her.
“Sorry. I actually don’t get emotional about it anymore. I think this,” she gestured to her tears, “is more about you and me than my awful childhood. I just don’t want to subject you to it.”
Izzy smoothed her hair. “Tell me what you’re afraid of.”
“My dad isn’t a reasonable man. I never told you about him and what it was like to grow up around him.”
Izzy ran her hand up and down Jane’s left arm. “Did he hurt you?”
Jane paused before she spoke, telling Izzy what she needed to know. A stone of anger lodged in her stomach.
“I thought it was normal. All kids got spankings when I was a kid—worse if it was something super bad. It was always worse with us, and I always thought it was because we were worse kids than normal. But no. We weren’t worse than normal kids. My dad was…well, my dad has a short temper.”
“Why are you holding your arm?”
Jane looked at her arm and dropped it. “I didn’t realize I was.”
“Did he hurt you?”
Jane blew out a breath. “It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
Jane seemed to gather her thoughts. “I was a sophomore in high school. My dad caught me kissing someone. A girl.” Jane grimaced.
“I gather from the look on your face he didn’t have a good response?”
“You gather right. I’d asked to stay home from a family outing to do homework with a classmate. It really did start out as an innocent study session. I’d kept my fascination with girls a secret, and I had no idea Amy was like me. But we ended up kissing. It wasn’t even close to passionate. Neither of us had ever kissed anyone before, so we were just learning. But he came back to check on me—he never trusted any of us—and when he saw us, he threw her out of our house. Physically picked her up and threw her. She landed on the sidewalk and got pretty scraped up. I was horrified, but I didn’t do anything. I just stood there, until he came for me.”
Izzy felt her jaw twitch. “Did he hurt you?”
Jane’s eyes got a faraway look. “I don’t remember what happened after he shoved my mom out of the way so hard, she hit the wall and slid down…” Izzy waited. “I woke in the hospital. My jaw was wired shut, and my arm was in a cast. It hurt to move because some of my ribs were broken. The doctors never told me the extent of my injuries. My dad did all the talking. I couldn’t because of my jaw. I wouldn’t have if I could, anyway. I barely talked for a year, even after they unwired my jaw. But from what I was told, I had a concussion, and they had p
ut me in a medical coma to wait for the swelling in my brain to go down.”
Anger boiled in Izzy’s gut. “Didn’t the hospital report it? Did they tell the police?”
“My dad told them a gang of kids attacked me.”
“Didn’t they ask you? What about the other girl? Surely, she reported him.”
“She was just as scared of her parents as I was of my parents finding out. Even if my jaw hadn’t been wired shut, I wouldn’t have told anyone what happened. My dad would have—” She didn’t finish her sentence, but Izzy knew what she couldn’t say.
Rage stewed in Izzy, and she squeezed her hand. “God. I can’t even imagine what you went through.”
“I learned not to rock the boat. He never hurt me as badly again. None of us. Well, there was the one time my brother got in trouble for fighting at school, and my dad took him out back…I think it scared him, too, because we just got normal spankings and smacks after I got out of the hospital.”
There is no such thing as normal spankings or smacks, Izzy wanted to tell her. But now was not the time.
Izzy struggled to connect this horrific story of Jane’s past with their current conversation. Then it hit her. “Are you afraid your sister will stir some of it up again?”
“I was. She moved away to escape it. My brother, too. But she went to counseling, and she came back because she says she’s done with running.”
“When I told you I was bipolar—”
“I already knew about—”
Izzy needed to know. “But when I told you, you left. Why? Were you afraid I couldn’t deal with something like this?”
Jane squeezed her hands. “Not at all. I wouldn’t have moved in if I was worried about it.”
But why? Why did she leave? Without a reason why, she didn’t know what to say. She let her heart speak. “Why did you run? I need to know. I want to fix us.”
“I do, too.” Jane’s voice was just a whisper.
She needed to know. “Why did you leave, then?”
Jane stared at their hands. “I got scared.”
Izzy was getting frustrated. “Of what?”
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