Unspeakable Truths

by Alice Montalvo-Tribue

  “You look great,” he states, once I’m in touching distance.

  I say nothing in return, just put my jacket on and grab my keys off of the entryway table. I lock up the front door and follow Luca down the driveway to his car—a newer model black Dodge Charger. He holds the passenger door open for me, and I can hardly contain my eye roll as I slide into the soft leather seat. He closes the door behind me and rounds the car to take his seat in the driver’s side.

  “Where are we going?” I sigh, thinking of how bad of an idea this really is. Why am I letting myself get blackmailed into this stupid idea of his to get me out of the house more? What makes it worse is the fact that he’s forcing me to spend time with him of all people. The person who I have spent years harboring the most sheer animosity for.

  He smiles at me and pulls out onto the road. “We’re going to get something to eat and catch a movie.”

  I stare at him with a disgusted look on my face. “Dinner and a movie? That’s your big plan for getting me out of the house?”

  He shrugs. “I figured we’d start small. I don’t want to overwhelm you on your first outing.”

  “Being with you is overwhelming enough,” I spit out. “It sounds more like a date than an outing.”

  A slow grin takes shape on his mouth. “It can be whatever you want it to be sweetheart.”

  “I’m not your sweetheart.” I cross my arms over my chest almost defensively. What the hell is his problem? Did he just flirt with me? His dead best friend’s wife? Maybe I’m overreacting; he’s probably just trying to be nice. I’m not exactly the easiest person to talk to these days, I’m sure he’s just trying to break the ice.

  “Everly, just relax okay, we’re just two people hanging out. I’m not going to hold your hand, or wrap my arm around you. I’m not even going to attempt to kiss you at the end of the night. At most I’m hoping we can get past the dislike you feel toward me and become friends.”

  “Yeah, that’ll never happen,” I mutter under my breath. I turn my head to look out the window; it’s my nonverbal cue that I’m done talking. He gets the hint, turns up the radio, and drives us to our destination without saying another word. Just because he forced my hand to get me to come out with him doesn’t mean I have to like it, and I definitely don’t plan on making this easy on him.

  We pull into the parking lot of a quaint Italian bistro I’ve driven by many times but have never eaten at. Once inside we’re seated immediately and I can’t help but to feel awkward about sitting across from Luca at a table for two. It feels too intimate. To the strangers sitting around us, we must look like a couple out on a dinner date. They’d never know how we really feel about one another.

  We place our dinner orders and sit in silence for a while before I finally speak.

  “This is weird,” I say, averting my gaze.

  “What?”

  “Being here with you, it’s just weird,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders. “It’s not like we ever got along not even before…”

  Luca quickly cuts me off. “We got along alright.”

  “Maybe the first time we met! After that we barely tolerated each other.”

  “Tell me about work,” he says, shifting to a more comfortable topic. What am I supposed to say about work? It’s nothing to talk about, just a job I do because I can’t be bothered with anything else.

  “There’s nothing to tell, you know what I do, and you know what it consists of.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s alright, it’s a job and it pays the bills.”

  He presses on. “But it’s not what you wanted to do is it? I thought you wanted to be a lawyer, you wanted to open your own firm.”

  “How did you know that?” I’m surprised at his knowledge of my past plans, past as in plans that died right along with Tyler.

  “There are a lot of things I know.”

  His cryptic answer leaves me with more questions than before. How does he know anything about me at all? Did he and Tyler have conversations about me at some point in time? And if they did… Why? What would make Luca interested in knowing anything about me? I push the questions out of my head and turn the tables on him.

  “What about you? Last I heard you weren’t sure if you wanted to be a lawyer.”

  He looks up at me, his eyes darker than usual, and something washes over his features some emotion he doesn’t want me to see. “Eh… I finally made up my mind.”

  “Why?” I push, suddenly very interested in his answer.

  He hesitates, looking at me with a cautious expression. Am I really that hard to talk to? What am I thinking, of course I am. I’m nothing but a bitch where he’s concerned.

  I ask again in a less abrasive tone. “Why Luca?”

  “I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when I left here. I was confused and a little out of it in all honesty. I had been accepted into law school in Chicago, so I went, ended up staying with my uncle there. I did a lot of security work for office complexes while I went to school.”

  I nod my head, taking it all in. I don’t understand why all of a sudden I feel bad for this person, or more importantly, why I feel like a bad person for sending him away four years ago when he was so obviously hurting. Was my anger really worth it? The thing is, I was distraught, overcome with grief. I had just lost my husband. Had he approached me a few weeks later would I have dismissed him so quickly? I’d like to think that I’d have heard him out, but the truth is I was so fucked-up in the head that the end result would have likely been the same, and for the first time since it happened, I feel like I made a huge mistake.

  “Are you happy with your choice now?”

  “Yes, I am, because now I have a job that I really enjoy at a great firm. I’m learning a lot. ”

  Dinner comes just as I’m about to ask him for more details and before long the conversation is forgotten replaced instead with a more companionable silence. We get back in the car after dinner and I think to myself that spending time with Luca isn’t quite as terrible as I thought it would be.

  “What movie do you want to see Ev?”

  “Would you mind if we call it a night? I’m really tired, I don’t know if I’d stay awake during a movie.”

  He looks at me for a minute before speaking, probably trying to gage my mood, wondering if I’m actually tired or just full of shit. Truth is I’m a little of both.

  “Alright, rain check?”

  I don’t answer him, don’t even know what I would say. Do I want to hang out with Luca again? It certainly wasn’t the worst experience in the world, but what would that mean for me and all of the time I’ve spent making him into my own personal villain?

  He pulls out of the parking lot heading back in the direction of my house. “Come on, a night out with me wasn’t so bad right?”

  I unwittingly smile. "Why are you making it seem like I’m the mean one? You never liked me very much anyway."

  I can see the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. "I liked you plenty. I just didn’t think you were right for Ty."

  "I loved Tyler!" I claim, preparing my defenses for battle.

  "Of course you did,” he remarks, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “I never said you didn’t.”

  As if on cue that all too familiar build-up of anger where Luca is concerned resurfaces. "Then what the fuck is that supposed to mean Luca?"

  "Oh Everly come on...He gave in to everything you ever wanted, he tied himself up in knots trying to make sure that you were happy and you loved that shit. It was too easy, he never challenged you."

  This! This is the Luca I know and loathe; this is very reminiscent of the old days where he would give me a hard time for even breathing in his direction.

  "Who doesn’t want a man who will do what he can to make his girl happy? How does that make me a bad person? And I didn’t always get my way, not where you were concerned."

  "I never said you were a bad person,” he says, shaking his head. “You just needed someon
e who wouldn’t let you walk all over them."

  "What like you?"

  "Not me exactly, just someone like me. But for argument’s sake if you had been mine, you would never have gotten away with half of the shit you got away with."

  I raise my hands in the air as if I were praising the Lord. "Thank God I wasn’t yours then," I reply, unable to hide my disdain.

  He laughs at my reaction, and I hate how the sound of it vibrates through me, making me feel something I most definitely don’t want to feel.

  "Ev,” he calls out after the laughter dies. “A guy like me would have made you happy in many other ways. Someone like me is more than capable of making you happy, and not by breaking his back to buy you a house he can’t afford, or a purse that costs more than the rent."

  I glare at him unable to compute how we went from pleasant to this in a matter of minutes. "I hate you. I never asked for any of that shit."

  "You wish you hated me," he says pulling up in front of my house.

  "Can I go inside now? I’m pretty sure I’ve had more than enough of you."

  His voice drops into a husky tone. "I like it that you ask me for permission.” My heart races and he holds my stare for a beat before finally speaking again. “Yeah sure go inside. Have a goodnight Ev.”

  I recover quickly and open the door, but he grabs my hand before I can get out. I turn my head to look at him.

  “Next Saturday, be ready, same time,” he commands before releasing me. I get out of the car and rush inside locking the door behind me. What was that back there? All this talk about me being his—was he really talking hypothetically or was he serious? Was he just trying to prove a point? Did I really just agree to see Luca again? Fuck!

  ~Luca~

  Being around Everly is bad for me; it’s always been like that for me where she’s concerned. She makes me want things I shouldn’t want. Things that I was supposed to let go of a long time ago—the minute she began to date my best friend—but I’m coming to realize that maybe I never let it go. I masked my feelings by treating her badly, I allowed for her to see me as a villain, and I made her hate me. Even after Ty’s death, it was easier for me to take the blame, to keep up the charade, even though I knew it was a lie. I have never been able to confront my emotions for her or come to terms with how I missed my opportunity with her.

  How many times did I flirt with her tonight or drop stupid innuendos? How many times did I glance at her inappropriately or imagine that we were more than just two people having dinner. I felt people’s eyes on us, admiring the young couple that we appeared to be, and I liked it. I liked that they thought it, I liked that it looked that way, and I didn’t want it to end. I want more, I want a lot more moments like that, and I’m sure that makes me wrong, but I don’t know if I care.

  My intentions were good, I want her to let go of her grief, put it in her past and move on. I want her to look forward to getting up everyday knowing that she has something to look forward to—a purpose. The point was to get her out of her shell, not scare her off, but I can’t seem to help myself around her. And me telling her how things would have been if she had been with a guy like me instead of Tyler… What kind of asshole am I?

  I should stop, I know. I should leave her alone, but that one smile she gave me tonight… the one she was unaware she gave, that smile made it worth it, that smile sealed my fate. I’m going to keep forcing her hand, getting her out of that fucking tomb she lives in and at the very least I’m going to make her my friend. I can be her friend if she’ll let me. I can put my feelings for her aside if it means that she can have her life back.

  At the same time I can’t help but to feel an unhealthy claim toward her. If I’m being honest with myself, I always felt that pull, and it’s why I had to make sure she hated me when she was with Tyler. If she had given me any indication that she felt the same way for me as I did for her, I would have gone after her, and it would have killed my friendship with Ty. God knows I wasn’t happy with him when he started seeing her.

  I walk into the apartment focused mainly on grabbing a change of clothes and getting in the shower. I spent the majority of my morning shooting hoops at the gym, and I smell like shit. Ty’s grabbing his car keys off the table just as I’m walking in.

  “Yo,” he says tipping his chin up in acknowledgement.

  “You headed out?” I question, noticing he looks to be in a rush, and these days when Ty’s in a rush, he’s up to shit that I don’t like.

  “Got some shit to do.” He picks up his cell, slides it in his pocket never looking up at me.

  I nod, as I go into the kitchen and grab a water bottle. “I think everyone’s getting together at Cal’s tonight. You going?”

  “No, not tonight. I have plans.”

  “You have plans that don’t include going out and getting shit-faced or placing bets?”

  He flinches but recovers quickly. He shrugs on a jacket and finally looks at me. “I have a date.”

  This gets my attention. “Wait what?” I say on a chuckle. Tyler hasn’t been on a date in forever. He has his priorities straight (or his father does) and dating is not high on that list.

  “I said I have a date, man. You heard me.”

  “Yeah I heard you, I just thought I heard wrong.”

  “Nope. Gotta learn how to make time for a little of everything right?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” I say, unable to hide the humor in my voice.

  “Well I finally listened.”

  “Who’s the girl? Is it the chick you were talking to at student union the other day?”

  “No. It’s uh… It’s Everly.”

  I place my water bottle down in front of me and place my hands on the countertop, gripping it as hard as I can. “Excuse me?”

  “I said it’s Everly, she’s in my Western civ class, sat next to me on the first day, and we got paired up for a project.” His words hit me like a physical blow, he must be shitting me.

  “Everly as in my Everly? The girl I met at the bookstore, the girl I pointed out to you? The girl I told you I was into? That Everly?” I try to control the fury in my voice, but I know I’m failing.

  “Dude come on, you let her walk away from you, you never even made an effort to get her number. You talked to her one time, it’s not like you wanted to marry her. You don’t even know her.”

  “That’s not the fucking point.”

  “Yes it is. It’s exactly the point man, if she was yours I’d never go near her but she’s not.”

  I have to get the hell away from him right now. I need to get my head on right, and I don’t want to do something I might regret later.

  “You know what, fuck it man, go out with her. It won’t take long for her to realize what a dick you are,” I spit out before grabbing my water bottle, walking away grabbing clean clothes out of my room and jumping in the shower. I hear the door slam shut a few minutes later, and I know he’s gone.

  I know I shouldn’t be pissed, but I’m infuriated. If ever there was a time I wanted to punch the shit out of him this was it. Do I have a claim on Everly? I’m not delusional, and I’m not stupid, so no, technically I don’t have a claim on her and that’s my own fault, but he knew. He knew that she was on my radar, and he didn’t give a shit. That didn’t stop him from making his move. All of the fucking women on this campus, and he chose to go after her. I close my eyes and let out a breath letting the hot water release some of the tension in my muscles. I have to be the bigger man here, I need to let this shit go. I’m not going to let a girl I’ve only spoken to once come between me and Ty. He’s like a brother to me, and I’m man enough to let this shit slide. It’s just a date, they’re not getting married. Tyler’s priorities are set, he knows what he needs to do, what’s expected of him, and he takes that very seriously. I just can’t see him putting all of that in jeopardy for a girl. Even a girl as beautiful as Everly.

  I thought that they’d go out on a date or two and be done with each oth
er. I thought that Tyler’s drive to impress his father and fulfill his legacy would be more important than having Everly. I was wrong. He fell for her fast, and she did the same with him. It was the most painful thing to witness because somewhere in my mind I knew that I had wanted that for me. I had wanted her for myself, but I bowed out gracefully so that my best friend could have what he wanted. I watched as he made her fall in love with him, never being completely honest with her about the things that he was doing behind her back, the chances he was taking that would one day cost him his life and her, her heart. Knowing the entire time that I could have done better, I would have done better, given her something that was real and honest, without the secrets that would leave her life in ruins.

  But the time for thinking about what could have been is over. Now Tyler’s gone, he’s gone, and I hate it. I miss him, but Everly’s alone and I’m done. I’m done burying what I feel, I’m done denying myself what I want, what I’ve always wanted. So I’m going to do whatever it takes to bring Everly back to herself and make her see me as something other than her dead husband’s best friend.

  ~Everly~

  I take a sip of my wine as I listen to Stella and Michael West go on and on about their latest charity functions. This after about a half hour of hearing Michael tell me all about the latest goings on at his firm. This he does in an attempt to woo me in hopes that I might just change my mind and come work for him, or better yet decide that I would like to reconvene my pursuit of a law degree. He believes that one day I’ll wake up and realize that I should have been a lawyer all this time, that I should have gone to law school, taken the bar exam, and come work for him. This is something that I have no intention of doing. I have no desire to come work for him in any capacity. But I understand. I get why he feels the need to push me, why he wants me to accomplish what his son never would.

  For Michael West failure was never an option where his only son was concerned, he expected and demanded the best of and for him. I’ve never doubted his love for Tyler, I never once believed that he didn’t adore his son, but the amount of pressure he put on him was at times unbearable. I sit here and stare at Michael and wonder—now that I know the whole truth, now that I know the kind of problems Tyler was facing—about the pressure he felt to be the best. I can’t help but wonder if his father’s need for perfection in turn propelled his son to unravel.