Getting Down to Business

by Allison B Hanson

  “Well, I guess this is it. I have a plane to catch.”

  “Okay. Good luck.” She took the key without looking at him. She was sure if she did, she’d end up on her knees, begging him to stay with her.

  He leaned down and gave her a hug. She just stood there woodenly, unable to respond. With a sigh, he turned and walked out the door.

  She heard his footsteps as he entered the hall and shut the door. She knew that was it. She wouldn’t ever see him again, but she couldn’t move to make him stop.

  She didn’t deserve to be happy.

  Tears filled her eyes and flowed the rest of the weekend.

  On Monday, she went into the office with red swollen eyes, causing everyone to stare and gossip. Not that she cared at all. Her manager had planned to give her another account, but after taking one look at her, she retreated back to her office and gave it to someone else.

  Again, she didn’t care.

  She texted Grayson a few times. Asking how his flight was. Was he getting settled okay? They were just random questions in an attempt to connect with him again in some way. She missed him so much, it felt like he’d accidentally packed up her soul in one of his boxes and taken it to San Diego with him.

  He never texted back.

  Even her email went unanswered. She didn’t give up. She told him about the weather and how he’d gotten some mail. She told him how she hadn’t found anyone to rent his room to yet.

  Two weeks later, she was no better. If anything, she was getting worse.

  He still hadn’t answered.

  She was watching television in her pajamas on Saturday afternoon when the doorbell rang.

  She pulled open the door after checking to see who was there.

  “Hey, Iz,” Alyssa greeted Grayson’s older sister.

  “Hey.” She frowned at Alyssa’s appearance. “Gray asked me to stop by and pick up some mail.”

  Alyssa couldn’t hold it back. She burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably as Izzy wrapped her arms around her and led her over to the sofa.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I miss him so much.”

  “You do?” Iz seemed surprised.

  “Yes. I didn’t want him to leave.”

  “Huh. He told me you didn’t care about him. He said you probably wouldn’t even notice he was gone.”

  “He did?” Alyssa cried harder.

  “Yes. But I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

  “He was wrong.” Obviously. She was a mess.

  “I didn’t want him to go either, but he wouldn’t listen to me when I asked him to stay. What did he say when you asked?” Izabelle said while rubbing Alyssa’s back.

  Alyssa sat up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “I–I didn’t ask him to stay.”

  “I’m confused.”

  “So am I,” Alyssa conceded. “I think I need to see someone. I’m so messed up. I didn’t think I deserved to be happy with Grayson so I messed it up. I saw myself doing it, and I still couldn’t stop.”

  “Why would you say you don’t deserve to be happy?” Izabelle had slipped into psychiatrist mode. Alyssa felt excited for a second.

  “You’re a shrink! You can help fix me!”

  Izzy held up her hands in front of her and shook her head.

  “As much as we love being called that, no. I don’t take on patients who I know personally. You would need to see someone else. I can refer you to someone if you’d like, and I’ll be here if you need to talk, but I can’t offer any advice. I’m compromised.”

  “Sure. Yes. I want to talk to someone. I’m ready.”

  “Good. It might have been better if you’d been ready a month or so ago, but at least you’re doing it.” Izzy smiled.

  “I know. My timing is off.”

  “Go get dressed. We need a drink.” It was a strange therapy for a psychiatrist to employ, but Alyssa didn’t question it.

  The next Tuesday after work, Alyssa sat in the lobby of Dr. Drenner’s office.

  The tiny woman was in her fifties and had photos of St. Bernards and family members all over her office.

  Alyssa spoke until she was hoarse at the first meeting and the second and the third. Dr. Drenner wasn’t bringing much to the table. She was just listening and asking more questions to get Alyssa to talk.

  Eventually, she folded her hands together and nodded.

  “Why did you leave the courtroom before the last woman took the stand to testify?” the doctor asked.

  “I realized he was lying. I didn’t need to hear her story to be convinced.”

  “You told me three times that you left without hearing her story. Why did you mention it so many times?”

  “I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to have all the answers?”

  “No. I’m supposed to point out the answers to you.”

  Alyssa tried to think about why she might have said it three times. She didn’t know. She hadn’t even realized she mentioned it more than once.

  “I don’t know,” she finally said.

  “The sweatshirt convinced you of his guilt.”

  “Yes. And the scar on his arm,” Alyssa explained.

  “The scar put there by the second victim.”

  “Right.”

  “And you knew he was lying about both things after he’d attacked the second woman?”

  “Yes.” Alyssa was getting frustrated.

  “And you questioned him about the cut and the sweatshirt.”

  “Yes. I already told you all of this. Why does it matter?”

  “It matters because you keep getting stuck on it. Tell me again,” the doctor insisted.

  “God! This is ridiculous.”

  “Maybe. Tell me again. Tell me about the sweatshirt and the cut.”

  At first, Alyssa crossed her arms, silently refusing to go through it all again. What did it matter? It was over. She just wanted to forget.

  “It was the end of November.” She gave in, hoping there was some trick to getting through this. “It was cold out and he came home without the jacket. He had a winter coat, but he rarely wore it to work because it made his coat smell like fried food. He hated the smell of old grease.”

  Alyssa took a breath, remembering him rubbing his arms when he walked into their apartment.

  “I asked him where his coat was and he said he left it at work. It didn’t make sense. Even if he’d forgotten it, he would have remembered as soon he walked outside and felt the chill.

  “He went straight for the shower. When he came out, he had a bandage on his arm. I asked him what happened and he said he didn’t know. It was a long cut. I couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t have known.

  “Over the next week or so, he never came home from work with the jacket. He told me a different story each time. I knew he was lying. I should have pushed him on it, made him tell me the truth, but I didn’t.” Alyssa’s hands were shaking.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t want him to think I didn’t believe him. I didn’t want him to get angry and leave me. We were going to get married. I couldn’t risk it.”

  “So you didn’t push him for the truth even though you knew he was lying. What did you think happened?”

  “I didn’t think anything happened. I didn’t know. I just knew he was lying.”

  “Did you think he was having an affair?”

  “No. I don’t know.”

  “You must have thought something had happened to the jacket. You must have known it wasn’t normal for someone to lie to someone they loved over something so insignificant.”

  “I figured it wasn’t important.”

  “You didn’t want to know,” Dr. Drenner said sternly. “You didn’t want to know the truth.”

  “No, I didn’
t.” To Alyssa’s surprise, she found herself crying. Big guilt-ridden tears rolled off her cheeks onto her dress pants.

  “And what would have happened if you’d made him tell you?”

  “I don’t know!” she yelled at the doctor.

  “Yes you do. What would have happened if you had made him tell you the truth? If he’d told you he hurt someone?”

  “He wouldn’t have.”

  “If you’d asked him, really asked, he might have told you. Then what would have happened?”

  “I’d have turned him in.”

  “Would you have?”

  “Yes! And then Bridgette wouldn’t have ever been hurt! She wouldn’t have had to live through that. It was my fault! I didn’t stop him from hurting her. I could have and I didn’t!” Alyssa broke down, repeating the words that had been dammed up in her for years.

  The doctor gave her the time she needed to cry it out, offering tissues.

  Alyssa took a deep breath when she’d regained control and Dr. Drenner gave her a small smile.

  “He never would have told you. Never. And there was no reason for you to suspect it was something so gruesome. You never could have known what he did. He didn’t even know it himself. You were protecting yourself from being abandoned. You weren’t turning a blind eye to a horrendous crime. It’s easy for you to look back now and see how you should have known, but you didn’t. You couldn’t have. No matter how much you would have asked or pressured him about that sweatshirt, you wouldn’t have been able to spare Bridgette. You can’t keep punishing yourself.”

  For the first time, Alyssa realized the truth. It was a sweatshirt and a cut. Not a bloody knife or a smoking gun. The police had used the sweatshirt and the cut to prove the crime after the fact, and somehow Alyssa had twisted it to believe she should have seen it first. But the shirt and cut, on their own, wouldn’t have meant anything without a reason to suspect him.

  Alyssa left the office feeling slightly better. No one else would have jumped to the conclusion that her loved one was a rapist from a missing hoodie and a cut.

  She’d believed Donald because she loved him. And part of her still loved the man she’d thought he was. But that man was gone. Or never was. She needed to find a way to let him go so she could move on.

  Chapter 27

  “How’s San Diego?” Trent asked.

  “Great,” Grayson said with an enthusiasm he desperately wished were real.

  “You sound so convincing.”

  Gray should have known better than to try to lie to Trent.

  “Tiff and I stopped by to see her.”

  “How is she?” Gray asked right away. Izabelle had refused to share information with him, calling it juvenile and unhealthy.

  “She’s good, I guess. She and Tiff talked about wedding shit. Liss is coming to the wedding. Are you okay with that?”

  “Of course,” he snorted. It was only August, by the following June, he would be okay with it. He hoped so anyway. The pain was still as strong as it had been when he left. “Is she seeing anyone?”

  “I don’t know. Tiff didn’t say.” Gray wanted to reach through the phone and strangle his best friend for not asking the right questions.

  “Did she find a roommate?”

  “I don’t think so. Tiff said she was packing.”

  “Packing? Where is she going?”

  “I don’t know. Why don’t you call her and ask?”

  “Because I don’t care.” He was certain if he said it enough times eventually it would be true.

  “Right. Maybe you need to move on.”

  “That’s great advice coming from someone who’s getting married.”

  “If you felt for Alyssa the way I feel about Tiff, no way would you have just split,” Trent said.

  “What if Tiff didn’t want you? What would you have done then?”

  “I would have convinced her that she did want me.”

  “Whatever. I have to go.”

  Grayson hadn’t so much as gone to a bar in San Diego. He didn’t want to hook up with some random woman in an effort to get rid of the pain in his heart. He knew it wouldn’t work. He only wanted Alyssa. He would only ever want her.

  He had made a few friends at the new office, but they were all happily married with kids. Something he couldn’t handle quite yet. He still wanted that life.

  Doug had called next. With his expenses reduced, he could now afford a new phone. Apparently, he was also able to afford a diamond ring.

  “I want to be ready, you know? I want to give us plenty of time to get to know each other better. I don’t want to rush into it, but I got the ring so I’d be ready when the time was right.”

  “Good for you.”

  “And you’ll come back for our wedding? If she says yes?”

  “She’ll say yes, and of course, I’ll be there.”

  “Good.” He stalled for a moment, and Gray thought he probably knew why.

  “What is it?”

  “Liss.”

  “I don’t want to talk about her, Doug. I can’t handle it right now.” Or ever. It hurt too much.

  “Fine. Take care of yourself out there.”

  “Good luck on the proposal.”

  All of his friends were getting their happily-ever-afters.

  Pissed off at the world, he got dressed and went out.

  After a few drinks, Gray flipped through his phone, looking at the photos of Alyssa smiling and laughing as they lay in his bed. They’d been so happy in the photo. They had no clue how bad things were going to turn out.

  He pulled up her name and let his thumb hover over the “call” button.

  What would he say if she answered?

  He put the phone away and ordered another beer.

  * * * *

  Alyssa stood outside the prison taking in the sturdiness of the building. She’d been standing in the parking lot for nearly twenty minutes and hadn’t come any closer to going inside.

  Gray had come here to do the same thing once. At least he made it inside and filled out the paperwork.

  Alyssa could only stand there waiting for something to feel right about this.

  When she told Dr. Drenner about how Grayson thought she needed closure, the doctor agreed to a point. She said Alyssa needed to find a way of letting go and ending the relationship. Apparently, she’d been so busy piling on guilt and reeling from the pain Donnie had caused those other women that she hadn’t dealt with her portion of that grief.

  The end of a relationship that was based in lies seemed insignificant to being attacked. Her heartbreak was a small thing. Unfortunately, that small thing had festered.

  “I need to say good-bye. I need to end this officially.”

  She took two steps toward the prison and stopped once again. Only this time, she realized why. The Donnie she loved and lost was not the man in this building. She knew at the trial that her Donnie was gone forever.

  She got back in the car and drove to Thorndon Park. She pulled in near the rose garden and got out without hesitation. There were still some varieties of roses blooming, and she walked straight for the bench where her life had been changed the first time.

  With a breath, she sat down and looked out at the view with splashes of colors.

  This was where Donnie had proposed. Where he promised he’d love her for the rest of their lives. She remembered the feeling of safety those words brought her. From that moment on, she would no longer be facing the world alone. She’d always have someone next to her.

  At the trial, as her world crumbled, she’d been tossed back into that loneliness again.

  “If you had died, I would have mourned for you. I would have hurt for you, and I would have moved on. It would have been better if you had died,” she whispered. “You’re not worth mourning for, or hurting over. You
’re just nothing. It’s like you were never real.”

  She let out a sigh and looked up at the perfect blue sky.

  “I’m done. I’m moving on.”

  With a deep cleansing breath, she got up and walked to the rental car.

  She was exorcising all her demons today, and there was another stop she needed to make.

  Chapter 28

  Alyssa parked in the same spot she’d parked many times in her life.

  Her mother’s small yard was neat with a short plastic fence bordering a tiny garden that marked the end of her lot. The window air-conditioner was humming like crazy, and a puddle had formed on the narrow sidewalk under the unit.

  She hadn’t even made it up to the deck when the door opened and her mother squealed in excitement.

  “Alyssa! What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? Is that your car? Is everything okay? How long are you staying? What can I get you to drink?”

  “I didn’t know I was coming. No, it’s a rental. I’m fine,” Alyssa answered as many of the questions she could remember.

  “Come in, come in,” her mother demanded as if Alyssa would have driven all this way and not come in. “I have to leave for my shift in a half hour, but we can chat until then.”

  Alyssa took in the cluttered but clean living room-kitchen area and shook her head.

  “Mom, I need to ask you a huge favor, and I want you to say okay.”

  “Of course. What do you need? I have some money. I was saving it for new brakes, but I can put that off for a few more months.”

  “I don’t need money. I need you to call off work and sit and talk with me.”

  Her mother looked so shocked someone would have thought Alyssa had asked her to be a surrogate to her alien triplets.

  “Call off work?”

  “Yes. I don’t think you’ve ever called off. They will understand, and I—” This was difficult to say because she’d never said it before. “I need you, Mom. Please.”

  “Okay. Give me a second.”

  Without another word, her mother flipped open her cell phone and sent an honest-to-goodness text. It took forever as she pressed the keys three times until she got the correct letter.