I Walked With Her

by Lisa Barrington

  What did I just do? No matter how fucked up Max has been acting, she would never do this. I fucked this woman, a stranger, and bare. No condom. I came inside her. Even before the night that seems to be tearing us apart, we did not see ourselves as a couple. However, we have our rules. We made a commitment together. Commitment as heartfelt and meaningful to her. One more than anything else I know. It means everything to Max. It is the only area regarding sex I felt intimacy she allowed. Intimacy is her greatest fear.

  Emptiness. Suddenly my heart hurts more than I have felt in a lifetime. I feel it may never leave the walls of my chest. If not, I shall rip my rib cage open and withdraw it myself. She gives her body to me. For us both to be free in one another. Without any doubt, that is the promise she always without the slightest sway, stay true to. Always. This is the only thing she ever asked of me.

  These thoughts, these facts spin. I no longer feel spite but deep pain and hurt. These feelings only bring me back to one place. I am so deeply and unconditionally in love with her. I cannot give up; I can only fight for her. This is not the end.

  Francesca moves toward me about to say something. She is grinning from ear to ear, reaching for me. I gently move her arms away. Any other time in life, this would have been an exceptional conquest. Right now only one thing is clear. I must to go. I must get home.

  Francesca yells, in only what I can imagine are some very unsavory expressions in Italian. I do not care. She had her own intentions. I can’t right now. I am not this man. Maybe I once was, but this is not the man, I’ve worked long and hard to become.

  I turn and climb out. I grab my things. I tie my shorts but I do not dress further. I deserve the harsh temperature that strikes like a whip against every part of my body. I briskly walk back to my room trembling. I feel this is a low moment as a man. A feeling I have not felt since the days before my sobriety. Not only did I treat this woman with disrespect regardless of her own personal behavior. I worked hard to become a man of my word when I gave up drinking. My word is part of the foundation that keeps me whole.

  I quickly feel as though I am unraveling. I cannot force her to love me as I love her, but it gave me no right to betray the one foundation she sought from me. I need to get to my room. I feel anxious. I have to pass the hotel’s lounge on the way. I want to stop in there. I badly want to go sit at the corner of the bar. I want to look into the stillness of a liquid sitting in a clear glass. I want to acknowledge the depth in which it can change all I am thinking and feeling.

  I walk faster. I think of Max. My once Max. I must fight my own demons, as the lounge gets closer. The truth, no matter how much I desire a drink, for the first time, I desire Max more. I have no choice but to stay strong. Stronger than I lacked the grace a brief time ago. Life is twisted. Truly, twisted for us all.

  I make it past the lounge and up the ever so slow moving elevator. My room number cannot appear quick enough. The key card quickly in the door, I walk directly into to the bathroom. Turn the shower on. My body temperature has dropped. I am freezing from head to toe. I submerge myself under the scorching water. I need it to feel different from the water from before. My limbs return to their natural strength. I cannot stay beneath this cleanse as long as I desire. A stronger one is present. Get out and get home. Being close 4 a.m., I can make it back to the apartment before Max even has a chance to wake up. She will not have a chance to leave.

  I shut the water off and dry as quickly as possible. I climb back into my heavy sweatshirt adding their pants. Moving swiftly over to the couch, I turn on the television and check myself out of the room. I look around one last time. All I see is how different this night could have been.

  I grab my bag and leave. I stop only for a moment remembering my friends. I speak aloud to myself.

  "Shit. They are totally passed out. They were loaded. I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't make it out of their clothes before passing out. No chance of waking them". Reaching for my cell, I send a brief text.

  'Sorry. Emergency at home. Have to bail. Enjoy the powder. Catch up with you both in three weeks.'

  I am out. The hotel door slams behind me. It echoes through the extreme of the early morning. Heading straight for the front desk, it is certain at this hour a valet will need to be called. It takes longer than I hope. The chalet is closed and locked. The front desk does move quickly to accommodate my urgency. Now 4:40 a.m. Finally, I am back on the road. My adrenaline pumps. Despite the hour, no coffee is needed to get back home. Home. The sole place I yearn. Our home.

  I have left the Jeep open and I turn the radio on hoping my ride will move faster. It is then a song comes on which permeates within me, despite the wind swirling around me. Katy Perry, "Unconditionally". I turn it up. How have I never heard this before? The lyrics bring an insight. A sorrow and happiness. Truth. My Max.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I pull up exactly 8:11 a.m. in front of our building. I hadn't considered the commuter traffic. It is Thursday and with my own scattered work schedule, the days of the week often escape me. I pull up in front of our building and place the hazards on. I am not wasting any time seeking to park. I do not intend to miss her this time. No way will she be expecting my return. Not only has enough time passed, too much has happened. We need to talk, about it all. Everything. No one has ever fought for you. I am going to fight for you Mackenzie Manale.

  Reliable Chuck mans the front desk. A staple in everyone who lives here life. A smile everyone is greeted with as they come and go. I pull a twenty out of my pocket and stop in front of Chuck.

  "Morning. I need to ask a favor. I need to get upstairs." I finish getting the apartment key from my keychain and hand my Jeep keys to Chuck with a twenty doll. "Mind parking for me?"

  "Certainly Mr. Coolen, but this isn't necessary. Didn’t you go to Tahoe? Is everything alright?"

  I do not turn around. I head for the elevator. I simply yell with my back to him. "Yes. Plans changed. Please buy yourself lunch today. You're a good man Chuck. Please call me Ben already. You make me feel old."

  The elevator door opens. I hold it open, suddenly questioning the situation. "Chuck! One more thing? Have you seen Max leave or anything this morning?"

  "No sir. Usual suits but not our pretty lady."

  "Thanks". I press the elevator button. Here we go. Ninth floor.

  There are only two apartments per floor. We live in an incredible building in the heart of San Francisco. It is an almost unbelievable find. Corner building with wrap around windows, doorman and all. I have never been completely certain how this co-op came to be ours with the low lease agreement we hold. Growing up outside of San Francisco, I know this area well. Rent in this part of the city is absolutely higher than we pay. Much higher. All I was told is the builder owed Max’s father a favor. I always left it at that.

  I stand outside our front door. I can’t help my hesitation. My heart is racing. Even with the long drive, I haven’t thought of one thing to say or even how to act except I have to be here. I am certain it most likely is going to get horrible before it will get better.

  I put the key in the door. Quietly I listen if Max is even up. I can never be sure. It depends a lot on her mind. What state she is in. The front of the apartment is less than quiet and dark still. The shower is running. Thirty Seconds to Mars blasts from within the walls of her master retreat. Oh God, I didn’t even consider, she may not be alone. "Christ she has "Hurricane" on". I silently wait a moment before walking further in. I still need to come up with a plan.

  I put my bag down quietly. I move with caution. The last thing I want is to scare her or them. I stop at the end of the hallway listening again. The song changes, Thirty Seconds continues, but now, "Attack" is playing. She sings as she always does. A yelling fashion along with Jared Leto. Jared’s lyrics poetic, fierce, whether heavy or soft, have a release needed.

  "It is only her.” I smile. That terrible off key voice she doesn’t give a fuck about in front of anyone. Add it to the list of wha
t I love about her. Wow, the lyrics are profound at this very moment. Twisted. Seriously twisted and true!

  Better, I not go in the bathroom. Best I wait in her room. The door is open. I hope that I won’t startle her too much.

  There is such relief not to find a strange man or friend for that matter sound asleep here. I sit in her reading chair and wait. I sit and hope. I hope this goes better than I am scared it will.

  The shower shuts off. I know she has rituals after a shower. Max will be a few more minutes. I inhale the smell of the lavender lotion I know she is spreading over her body. The music shuts off. Finally, she is before me. A towel wrapped around her chest barely long enough to cover her. I can only take a deep breath in.

  My beautiful Max. My endless.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I see Ben immediately. I stop in my tracks. Ben smiles looking at me. What is he doing here? Am I ready? I swallow hard. "You’re supposed to be in Tahoe."

  He has sat in my reading chair thousands of times. Now, it is not easy to see him sit there. I only see him as if he is watching, but Lindsay is no longer here.

  "True. But, I'm here now."

  "I don't understand. Did you go?"

  Ben taps his fingers on the arm of the leather. His look at me still so questionable. "Yes. I came back. I feel I need to be here more. Home."

  "Oh. Really?" I walk over to my dresser. My medications are working; I have better control, not complete. I do feel more balanced. I open my drawer pulling out some boy shorts. I slip them on while Ben still sits in my reading chair. I drop my towel. Putting on a men's tank, not turning back in his direction.

  "Since when are you modest?"

  "Who is being modest? I'm getting dressed.” I turn around with my arms out, legs crossed slightly. Show off what I have put on. I feel exposed. Again, something new. "I haven't had coffee yet. Would you like some?" I leave his expression and head for the door. I am unprepared.

  "Me neither. I would love some.” Ben follows me into the kitchen. I can feel him watch me still. His eyes on my back. I can feel his thoughts look me up and down as I walk.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I watch her body move. My mind is consumed. I do not know any longer which thought to embrace. Right this second it is the flow, the motion of her effortlessness. Sometimes sexy is easy. Max is sexier when she doesn’t try. Her boy shorts leave her ass partly bare. Her lower tattoo on her back stands out. Bottom of a larger piece. My middle name. Hidden in a scripture it is embedded forever on her. She admitted this only once before my sobriety back in the days when she occasionally partied with me. The memory is vivid. Shall always be. Max has always been careful not to mix her drugs with others or alcohol. Besides alcohol did not allow for the control she finds her strength. This obsession she confuses with survival.

  That night as clear as the ink permanent on her forever. The one night, Max admitted she had chosen the scripture because it included part of me. I tried to ask her more but back then, she simply walked away when she didn't want to say more. I never followed. She was going where the alcohol was not. Back in those days, the alcohol had a much stronger draw than even she did. She knew this. I’ve never brought it up again but it is impossible to forget either.

  I sit at the counter. It divides our kitchen from our living room. It gives a flow in our humble space. I can’t help but continue to smile as I watch her. I realize I actually do not have much to smile over at this time, except looking at her. Watching Max. Missing Max. Finally, being in front of her.

  Her top is currently killing me. I must admit I have missed her in many ways. Max insists on wearing these men's undershirts. She calls them her Italian tees. She has always associated them with her "Guido" cousins she grew up with. She says they were boys who wore them as shirts to show off the muscles she felt replaced the minds they had the potential to have. Max always seems to buy a size meant for a teenage boy. I cannot find distraction in her in any other way at this moment. I need to get my mind back on track. I am back with a purpose. We need to talk. I will not allow there to any further avoiding us. This is important beyond expression.

  Chapter Twenty

  We are both silent. I feel like he is waiting for me to turn toward him. First, I prepare both our coffees. I reach up for two large mugs on the second shelf. I feel my tank top move to the left of my back as I do. It is then my new ink is exposed. I went straight after seeing Stephanie. A phoenix. The word strength beneath it. It represents what that night between us meant to me. Who I hoped to become. What I hope continues to be. I feel the constant fire I am seeking to escape. I wish to fly high from what is slowly trying to burn me to my death. I also needed to feel the physical pain. The adrenaline. The pleasure in its creation. The agony it takes too complete. It was a better choice than fucking would have been. Turns out, I had no desire within me for that. No one else is Ben. I am no longer the same.

  I place a cup of coffee in front of him. Get out the honey and cream. I set them beside him. I make my coffee and stand across the bar. I will not go and sit beside him. I need some distance to maintain control. My fucken control issues. Shall they ever end? I am weak in his presence. I love him so much my heart aches in a way I’ve always known but kept behind walls within me. His presence. His touch. The feel of him that night broke every wall down inside me. How do I rebuild them? I put them up twenty years ago. I have done this all to save us both. "So. What made you come home so soon?"

  "You? You have been, are still, avoiding me. I am feeling like a plague."

  "I am not. You were working. I was working."

  "Bullshit. When do we not FaceTime at least three times while I am gone? I make that time for you. Always. When have you ever turned skiing down? I see you have a new tattoo when you kept your back to me as you dressed. I know there are very real reasons you mark yourself for life."

  "I've been busy. That's all. The tattoo, it is nothing. Simply wanted a new one. Nothing to read into."

  “Red, orange and yellow. It is nothing? Really? I realize the symbolism Max.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about. Jeff drew up a cool design. I loved the colors and that is all. Nothing more. Let it go.”

  “Really, a Phoenix? Strength? Random? Sure Max. You choose the ink on your body with great care and need. The colors of a sunset? Why are you seeking further strength? You have more than you ever give yourself credit. A phoenix is about rising from ashes, the fire. Rebirth? You tell me! What exactly are you flying away from? What sun are you seeking to set? What do you need to be reborn from?"

  “You're reading into something; you could not be more wrong in your observation. I am mentally ill. Could that be enough?”

  “No Max. You are a survivor. You have strength without inking your body. I am not buying it. Everything you do has a reason.”

  “Drop it Ben. I am serious.” I take my coffee and walk to the den. I sit on the couch desperate to escape this conversation. I thought I had a few more days to collect myself. This is taken me too much by surprise. I did not see this coming. Why can’t Ben be more like me? Why didn’t you run, for only once? Truth is he is the exact opposite of me. I have missed him so.

  "Since when do you leave skiing? Obviously, in the middle of the night." Suddenly I find myself snippy. What I do know is he is going to take this where I do not want to go. He already began. I have nowhere to go. I am angry and scared. Please do not see through me. I shall show anger instead.

  "Nothing I couldn't sleep, so I left."

  "You have never been a good liar. I've tried to teach you but you suck at it still."

  "Oh you didn't think I "sucked" so bad not so long ago!"

  "Asshole".

  Ben gets up for more coffee. He sees my medication on the counter. He immediately looks to me with worry. Fuck, I had not anticipated him coming home! Shit!

  "Why is your dosage doubled? What have I missed? What is going on Max?"

  "Nothing! It is time, that's all!"

&
nbsp; "Have you been sleeping? Are you eating? The tattoo!"

  "No! Yes! I mean Yes! Yes!"

  "Sure! How much did you spend Max?"

  "Not a penny! Stop accusing me! You are not my keeper!"

  "How bad is it? You are manic aren’t you? Christ! Because of us? That night? You finally let go with me. I didn’t imagine it! You did want it too! You do care about us!" Ben's voice is loud, sterner than I have ever heard him before.

  He paces running his hands through his hair. When he does this, I know him. His mind is moving quickly. I wonder if it races as rapid as mine is. I do not want to talk about any of this. Please, make this stop! I am better but not complete. There is no such thing as complete. I am not me.

  "No! I am not! I am not manic nor was I! Stop it! And what kind of statement is that? Of course, I care about us! You're my best friend!" I'm yelling back, now kneeling on the couch. I am in position to dart to my room when the moment is needed. I feel the panic rise. An attack is presenting itself. Too many emotions surfacing. Overload. I will lose to my mental scars and collapse without any breath. I will shake and hyperventilate until I feel death approach. Feel the dark angel’s hand on my shoulder. This I all must face alone.

  He does not stop. "Best friends! Is that all you really feel we are Max? Whether you want to admit it or not, keep running, deny the truth, that night we left “friends” behind. You know it! How many men did you fuck since I've been gone? Tell me!"

  "Fuck you Ben! I haven't slept with anyone!"

  "I didn't use the word “sleep”! Did I? I said fuck! How many? Come on Max, you don’t think I know you after all of these years!"