Light in the Dark

by Lindsay Paige

  “Lila died yesterday and it’s because of me.” Mr. Tucker’s eyes widen. “She came to my apartment, pissed because she realized FC wasn’t ever going to leave her and that’s partially because of me, I guess. She brought a gun and started a fight. I ended up pushing her and she fell over the balcony, landing on a wrought iron fence. It killed her immediately.”

  “Oh my goodness,” Mr. Tucker says quietly.

  “I’ve been having some nightmares already. Some guilt. I don’t know how to deal with this.”

  “Of course not. I can definitely help you. Now, you may not go home cured, but we’ll have you better off than when you came in.”

  Hopefully.

  But I should have more faith in Mr. Tucker. He tackles my guilt first. The part that makes me feel better almost immediately is the fact that he acknowledges I should feel some guilt because a life was lost. It means I’m human and not immune to such emotions. What I must get through my thick skull is that I’m not truly responsible. If not for Lila’s actions, none of it would have happened and I was simply defending myself. The unfortunate and tragic part is the result of me defending myself.

  I leave Mr. Tucker’s office feeling a little less guilty and hopeful that because of that, I won’t have any nightmares tonight.

  I expect my parents and maybe even my nana to say something about my decision not to attend Lila’s funeral, but no one says a word, which is relieving. I willingly explained myself to Idaline; I don’t want to explain myself to anyone else again. Not only that, but it’s ultimately my decision.

  A week goes by. Idaline only comes by once or twice and the rest of the time, she claims she’s too tired from work or anxiety to stop by. But all it is is she’s still struggling with what happened to Lila. She’s closed me off some, but not completely. I plan to correct this very soon. But I’m stunned when I get a call Friday after work from Lila’s mom, Karen.

  “How are you?” I ask after we’ve said hello.

  “I’m doing okay. I hope you’re not upset that I called, but I have something to ask.”

  “What is it?”

  “I know my daughter wasn’t good to you. I know you told my husband and me that we could see Sawyer, but Lila went a bit crazy anytime we mentioned calling you. Now that she’s,” she chokes up a bit, “gone, I was hoping we could come visit Sawyer.”

  What’s sad is that I can believe Lila is what stood in the way of them being in Sawyer’s life. My answer to her isn’t based on anything other than my word I once gave them. “I have no problem with that, Karen. How about you come visit on Sunday?”

  “We would love that. If we plan on being there around noon, is that okay?”

  “That sounds fine.”

  We talk for only a minute or so longer before hanging up. I immediately call my parents to tell them the news. After that, I text Idaline and tell her she’s spending the night at my house tonight. I don’t plan on taking no for an answer. I cook dinner while Sawyer walks around and babbles almost as loud as he can. Idaline doesn’t text back, which worries me until just as dinner finishes, there’s a knock on the door.

  Sawyer does a wobble run to the door and I follow behind. Thank all that is holy, Idaline stands on the other side. Sawyer grabs onto her scrub pants leg and tugs. She looks down at him with her exhausted, tired eyes.

  “Hey, Sawyer.” She bends down to pick him up. “Have you missed me? I’ve missed you.” She kisses his cheek, earning a smile. Those beautiful eyes land on me. “Thank you for making me come over. I’ve missed you too.”

  “Well, come on in. You’re just in time for dinner.” I take her bag from her and drop it off in my room. When I return, we sit and begin to eat dinner. Sawyer, of course, has to throw in a few nom nom’s. I decide to bring up the hard subject right off the get-go by telling her about Karen’s phone call.

  “That’s nice that Sawyer will get another set of grandparents in his life.” And then she falls silent. That won’t do.

  “How are you doing, love? And be honest, because I won’t believe you if you say fine.”

  Idaline sighs. “I’ve been emailing Mr. Tucker a lot, so I’m still working through what happened, but the nightmares just won’t go away. That’s it.”

  Except if she hadn’t said those last two words, I would’ve believed her. But now it sounds like she’s trying to convince me that nothing else is going on.

  “I’m here for you, so let me be. What else aren’t you telling me?”

  “I moved,” she squeaks.

  “What?”

  “I couldn’t be there.” A touch of hysteria enters her voice. “I couldn’t keep walking past where I pushed her or see where she died. It was too much. My lease was only a month to month, so I didn’t lose out on too much money.”

  “How could you not tell me that? And let me help you move?”

  And then she looks a bit ashamed. “Your dad helped me.”

  Anger begins to swish and flow throughout my body. “Why are you keeping secrets from me?” I’ve talked to her every day this past week. She could’ve told me at any point. I don’t like this version of Idaline and just as I realize I’m a hypocrite, Idaline does too.

  “Don’t you dare talk about keeping secrets with me, FC. I waited three years to learn about all of yours. You didn’t even wait a week. I’m struggling, FC. Just like you were. I was almost always understanding with you and this is how you treat me when the situation is reversed?”

  My heart shatters when a tear graces her cheek. “You’re right and I’m sorry. Obviously, I’m not as great being on this side of things as you were. But I want to help you and I can, and you aren’t coming to me. You went to my dad, Idaline. I want you to come to me.” Sawyer throws a piece of food at me with a shout which breaks the tension. “Hey, we don’t do that,” I tell him. He only does it when he’s full and no longer wants more food.

  So, I stand to remove his food from in front of him and refill his sippy cup. He’s happy once more.

  “I’m sorry,” Idaline tells me softly. “Everything is hard right now and it’s no surprise I’m not making the right choices.”

  “I understand that,” and I do. “Just let me be there and deal with it as well.”

  She nods in agreement. We finish eating with small talk about her week at work and mine as well. She spends some time playing with Sawyer while I wash dishes. When I join her, I realize she still doesn’t seem like her usual self. The light within her does shine a little brighter with Sawyer around, though.

  “Do you really think it’s okay that he’ll never have the chance to meet his mother?” Idaline asks out of the blue.

  “Yes,” I answer with no hesitation. “Say she lived until she was old and wrinkly. The only way Sawyer would meet Lila is if he snuck behind my back and did it because I wouldn’t allow it. One day, he’ll have to learn the truth about Lila. The hard truth. I’ll show him my scars and tell him about how long I’ve been sober and the struggle that’s been. I would’ve told him straight up that under no circumstances should he meet her because she’s a bad person and unworthy of him. Not to mention, he’ll have you in his life.

  “Now that she’s dead, I don’t have to worry about telling him he can’t or that I don’t want him to. What happened, Idaline, is no different than if she died in a car accident. That’s the key word, Idaline. Accident. And if that doesn’t help you, don’t worry about Sawyer and how this will affect him because I’ll handle it. Bottom line, he’ll be fine.”

  Her gaze never wavers from Sawyer. She doesn’t say anything, which concerns me, so I hope I can hit it home with one last thing.

  “Lila gave birth to him. That’s it. Nothing more. I’m hoping you’ll be his mother.”

  Idaline bursts into tears so quickly and violently, she catches Sawyer off guard. He looks at her with wide eyes while I move over to pull her into my arms. She cries long and hard. Sawyer mostly stares at her, not quite sure what to make of things. Eventually he comes over and lean
s against my back while talking and throwing a couple of DaDas and squeals in there.

  He does one that’s particularly loud and it makes Idaline laugh. She lifts her head. Her eyes are red and puffy, but she’s always beautiful. I wipe her wet cheeks dry.

  “In case I haven’t told you lately, I love you.”

  Those are the sweetest words I’ve heard all day. I grin. “I love you too.”

  Sawyer makes his way around to my knees. He looks between us as if waiting for us to do something. He slaps my legs a few times, giving me a big cheesy grin. I have no choice but to play with him. Idaline plays with him, too. I think the best medicine for both of us is Sawyer. Hearing his beautiful laugh and seeing him smile can lift even the lowest of spirits.

  Later, I ask Idaline, “Do you want to give him his bath?”

  Her eyes widen. “I don’t know. He moves around a lot.”

  “You have to learn eventually. Come on.”

  She slowly follows me. We get his towel, pick out his nighttime clothes, and get the water running for him. Idaline undresses him. She flicks her gaze over to me many times and I can see her worry, but we’ll conquer that. Sawyer gets in the tub. Game over. He splashes water, laughing. I flick some water at him and he loves it, too. It takes about five minutes before Idaline begins to play with him.

  When I hand her shampoo, she sighs.

  “What if I get it in his eyes?”

  “It won’t burn and he’s usually pretty good. I doubt you will.”

  She reaches out and begins to lather his hair. My champ of a son loves having his hair washed. He tilts his hair back and grins at her. Idaline laughs.

  “You like taking a bath?” she asks.

  He baby talks back to her.

  They both make it through bath time just fine, though Idaline scares herself when Sawyer slips and slides a few times while she washes his body. I have to remind her he’s fine, and Sawyer kind of does the same thing because he laughs nearly the entire time.

  Once I put Sawyer to bed, I find Idaline in my bed. It’s early, but I join her. She snuggles up to my side and rests her head on my shoulder.

  “How are you doing?” I can’t help but ask.

  “I feel a little bit better than before I came.” My hand slides down to her ass, not with any outright sexual intentions, but just to move my hand and continuously touch her somewhere. Before I can say anything, she says, “Not tonight, FC. I’m not feeling that great.”

  “I only want to hold you. I’m glad you feel better.”

  “Will you just hold me until I fall asleep?”

  “Of course, love.”

  I hold her as close as I can. There’s something she wants from me. From me holding her. She’s clutching my shirt as if she might fall out of my arms at any second. Or as if she wants to make sure I don’t go anywhere but where I am. It takes almost an hour before her body relaxes, her breathing evens, and her fists loosen.

  Almost another hour passes before I begin to drift. My mind in that hazy place between consciousness and subconsciousness.

  And then Idaline jerks in her sleep. Her arms jerk. Her leg kicks out, nearly kneeing me. Flopping onto her back, she mumbles incoherently and is deathly still. She falls silent and then clutches at her chest, gasping for breath. Is this what her nightmares consist of? Her mouth opens wide. My heart hurts when I hear a quiet whine. Like she’s trying to scream, but that’s all she can do.

  Unable to take it anymore, I shake her awake. That’s almost as bad as watching her sleep. She startles awake, chest heaving, and terrified eyes wide.

  “You were having a nightmare,” I explain what she must already know.

  Her shoulders fall. “Is it crazy to say I was hoping I wouldn’t have one while I was here with you?”

  I shake my head. “Of course not. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No. You go to sleep.” She grabs her phone off her nightstand. “I’m going to stay up for a bit.”

  This doesn’t sound like a good idea. I do lay down for a bit, hoping she’ll fall asleep, but I fall asleep watching her reading, either something on the Internet or a book. Unfortunately, I wake up and find her in the exact same position.

  “Are you talking to your therapist about your sleep and lack of it?”

  She glances over at me. “I sleep.”

  “That’s not what I asked, Idaline.” I push myself up and face her.

  “He knows I have nightmares.”

  “And that you stay up all night after you wake up from one?” I ask. Idaline sighs, which pisses me off. “You’re exhausted, Idaline. How do you think that helps you overall? You’ve always told me that you need things to work together for you to be well. That if one thing gets out of whack, it allows for everything to follow suit and make things worse. Your sleep isn’t what it should be and you’ve gotta be suffering because of that. It has to be affecting everything else.”

  “I’m handling it, FC!” she shouts at me. “Leave it the fuck alone, okay?” There’s a harshness in her voice that’s never been there before.

  I stare at her a second before nodding. Sawyer hollers from the other room and I stand to get him. A terrifying thought hits me. Are all women like Lila? To think Idaline is anything like Lila makes me want to cringe, but her snapping at me like that sent me back to a place when I was with Lila. Little incidents like that led to the abuse with Lila. Will the same thing happen with Idaline?

  The floodgates open just like that. Every horrible memory with Lila covers my mind, but so does our beginning. How I loved her at first and how we were happy in the beginning. Fear embeds itself into every inch of my skin that I’m having a repeat of that type of relationship with Idaline. She couldn’t possibly be like her, could she?

  I barely pay attention when Idaline emerges from my room with her bag, ready to leave. There’s no protest or plea for her to stay. She gets a kiss and a send off from Sawyer and me. We eat and then I take Sawyer to my parents’ house, claiming I need to run errands. All I need is some time to think. To convince myself that I’m crazy for thinking such a thing.

  But the memories of my relationship with Lila are on repeat and so is the tone of Idaline’s voice. My scars seem to burn and itch and be overall uncomfortable. Then I find myself at the liquor store. I stare at the tequila bottle, suddenly so damn thirsty.

  This is not where I should be.

  You’re so damn worthless!

  All I ask is that you be a man and you can’t do that much.

  Leave it the fuck alone!

  The bottle is in my grasp and paid for within two minutes. Does this mean I’ll have to break up with Idaline? I can’t go through another relationship like the one I had with Lila. I can’t do it. And I don’t want Sawyer around it. This can’t be.

  Yet I’m drinking from the tequila bottle before I’ve taken two steps from my car.

  I’ve never felt so conflicted in my life about everything.

  A few hours after I left FC’s apartment, I get a phone call from him. There’s some relief because I feel guilty over how I left this morning. But exhaustion can cause some bad reactions in people. I’m absolutely horrified when I answer the phone, though.

  “Idaline,” he slurs. “Tell me you won’t turn into Lila. No, no, no. Promise me.”

  “Are you drunk?”

  “I didn’t mean to; I’m so sorry. Please don’t beat me.”

  What in the hell? “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m coming over, okay? You’re home, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  I hang up and drive over there, more worried than I’ve been since I moved here. FC relapsed. How in the world did this happen? Why would he think I would turn into Lila? That is madness. There’s not a mean bone in my body. Have I given him some kind of indicator that I would hit him and abuse him like she did?

  There are three empty tequila bottles scattered on the living room floor. I find FC in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet. He lifts his head and groans when he see
s me.

  “Where’s Sawyer?” I ask.

  “At my parents’,” he slurs.

  I sit down on the edge of the tub. “What happened, FC? You know I’m not Lila. I’m not anything like her.”

  He groans again. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “We need to.”

  He sits up and leans against the cabinet under the sink. “You were snappy and closed off this morning and it just took me back to when I was with Lila. I spiraled after that.” FC shakes his head. “It terrified me to think about being in that position again.”

  “But you aren’t,” I point out. “You won’t be.”

  “It’s like your anxiety, Idaline; sometimes logic doesn’t matter.” He buries his face in his hands with a sigh. “Even dead, she’s fucking me over.”

  If something like this morning could cause him to relapse so easily, I’m terrified about what that means for our future. How will he react to an actual argument? We can’t have him relapsing every time. His relationship with Lila left lasting effects that could do some serious damage not only to our relationship but to him as well.

  “I think you should go talk to someone,” I say quietly. “This can’t happen every time we have a minor argument or I get flustered with whatever is happening with my life and I take it out on you. You need help and I’m not sure we can get you through this, just the two of us.”

  He lifts his head and pierces me with a sad, guilty gaze. He looks broken and scared.

  “I’m not going anywhere, FC,” I reassure him before he can say anything. “Will you get counseling?”

  “Yeah,” he says with a nod. “Of course. Anything for us.”

  I shake my head. “No. This is for you.”

  “Do you hate me?” he whispers.

  I slide down to sit next to him as best I can. He makes me feel better by wrapping his arms around me. “FC, I could never hate you. I’m not even disappointed. I’m worried about you and our future if we don’t fix our issues.”

  “We’ll fix everything. I promise. We’re soulmates. We have to fix things and make it through this.” There’s a determination in his voice that makes me happy and relieved.