He Saved Me

by Whitney Barbetti

  The following day, I stayed home from running to the library. There was nothing for me to say to Hawthorne. I’d given him the invitation to come find me.

  I still wasn’t sure what the hell I was going to do when he came. It wasn’t a matter of if he’d come, but rather when.

  So each noise from outside had me jumping. If Julian noticed, he remained silent.

  We stayed lumped on the couch most of the day, mindlessly watching television. Commercials for the documentary kept playing throughout the day, splashing my face on the television.

  At one point, Julian got up and walked away. I didn’t think much of it until he returned with a small box in his hand. He turned off the television before coming and sitting beside me on the couch.

  He lifted a hand and ran it through my hair, a smile playing on his lips. “I missed your birthday last month,” he said.

  I leaned into his touch, grateful I hadn’t pushed him away with my silence. “You came two weeks after.” I turned my lips into his palm and pressed my lips there. “It was the best belated present.”

  “I’m glad you said that,” he murmured. He held the box up to me. “Because the pressure is off for this to be the best belated present.”

  I looked at him cautiously. “When did you get this?”

  “When I was getting Thanksgiving groceries.”

  I took the box from him and held it like I wasn’t sure what to do with. “The wrapping is nice,” I said.

  “Hopefully the gift inside is slightly nicer,” he said, sounding nervous.

  I slid a finger under a flap of the wrapping paper and lifted it up. It was a jewelry box.

  My eyes darted to Julian and he shook his head. “It’s not that,” he said, assuaging the fear that froze my fingers.

  I shook my head and laughed. Of course it wouldn’t be that. It was too soon. I exhaled in relief and continued opening the paper.

  “It’s not a big deal,” Julian said before I lifted the lid. “I just saw it and thought of you. That’s all.”

  “Julian?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stop worrying.” I smiled and then pulled off the lid of the box.

  Nestled in the paper was a necklace with two charms. “A sun and an anchor,” I said, lifting it up by the chain. I dropped the charms into my hand as I looked at them.

  “I called you my North star. The one I’d follow, always.” He sounded so nervous. His finger touched the anchor. “You said I’m your anchor.”

  It seemed so fitting, a star and an anchor, separated by sea and earth and sky, but living together on this necklace.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, at a loss for words. “And you are.” I lifted my eyes. “You hold me to earth. You keep me safe.” I touched a hand to his face, needing the connection.

  Julian took the necklace from me and I held my hair up while he clasped it around my neck. His hands came to my shoulders and he rubbed gently before I felt his lips press the skin there.

  “Thank you, Julian.” I looked over my shoulder at him.

  He kissed a line along my shoulder to my neck, slow kisses peppering my skin. I closed my eyes and leaned back into his touch, letting him love me with his lips and hands.

  Julian turned me around and gathered me tightly in his arms and pressed a kiss to my chest. “I think my arms were made to hold you like this,” he whispered against my skin. I felt his stubble scrape my flesh. “My lips were meant to kiss your skin.” He pressed them against my “Free” tattoo.

  I closed my eyes, feeling knives pressing into my heart with his words. He didn’t know what I was doing behind his back. The lengths I was willing to go to protect him, to protect the ones I loved.

  With each lie stacked on top of the next, I wondered how long until they’d collapse on top of me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The weekend passed by at a snail’s pace. The first installment of the documentary was focused primarily on a girl who disappeared before me. I spent most of the weekend training as Mira had taught me. By the time Monday rolled by, I was ready to return to the library.

  After getting Julian settled with his laptop, I ran into town. There was another lady at Anita’s desk, so I waved to her as I passed, headed straight for the computers at the back of the library. I checked my email first, seeing the voice recording I’d messaged myself. I wished for headphones so I could listen to it.

  There was no new email from Hawthorne, which made me wonder what his next steps were. I left the library and headed back to the beach house.

  After checking on Julian, I reached into the box of notebooks on the table and grabbed the one on the bottom. I skimmed through some pages, but then I came across the one that referenced the conversation my mom had had with Six, months before her death. I settled into the cushions and read.

  Bethany is sick again. And what’s worse, she is up to her eyeballs in debt. I invited William over for dinner to discuss naming him as Cora’s guardian.

  Just like all the other times, he said no.

  And, just like all the other times, that one word from his lips squeezed my heart.

  We argued, once I knew Cora was in the shower. I called him a coward.

  “I’m not cut out for kids, Liddie. You know this. And besides, I’m seeing someone.”

  I felt it then, that slash across my chest. It wasn’t like I didn’t know this. It wasn’t like he couldn’t see anyone else. But he knew what saying that did to me. I wore my heart on my sleeve around William.

  I nearly told him then, just to hurt him.

  I very nearly told him the truth.

  The truth? Sweat broke across my palms and I flipped a few more pages.

  Cora is so much like him. Quietly strong. Smart. Capable.

  My head swam and my pulse jumped and I turned the pages faster and faster, until I got close to the end.

  William left this morning. Our goodbye was an awkward one. He’ll be gone for at least six months. I made no promises to stay in touch. William was different, different from the boy I’d known growing up. Different from the man I’d fallen in love with in high school.

  I could only fake a smile in front of Cora so long. We said goodbye to him on our doorstep. It was one of the saddest moments of my life. One day, I’d tell Cora. And I’d explain why I did what I did.

  I watched as he playfully tugged Cora’s braids and she grinned back at him. Did he see what I saw when she smiled? Did he see his reflection in the way her lips spread, cutting identical dimples in her cheeks?

  Cora was my everyday reminder of the man I’d loved, the man I’d lied to. And William was blind, wholly blind to his own flesh and blood.

  I dropped the notebook and fell against the wall with a ragged breath. A million words ran through my mind, but I couldn’t make sense of a single one. I looked at the notebook, half expecting to see my heart, raw and ripped from my chest, resting in its pages.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I brought the back of my hand to my mouth. My stomach revolted, again, and I turned to face the wall. I couldn’t think. None of this made any sense.

  I pushed away from the wall, bent down and grabbed the notebook, before I ran up the stairs.

  I nearly fell into the doorway to the bedroom and then breathlessly threw the notebook on his lap.

  “Last page,” I heaved.

  I leaned against the doorframe while he read it, my chest aching. When he was finished he looked up at me.

  “Andra,” he started. He didn’t look surprised.

  What the fuck? “Julian?”

  He took off his glasses and closed the laptop on his lap. Everything felt like it was moving in slow-mo.

  “Julian,” I started, my blood simmering. “What is going on?”

  “Nothing is going on, Andra,” he said, standing up and moving towards me. “But this just confirms my suspicions.”

  I twisted away from his touch. “Your suspicions? What suspicions?”

  He held up my mom’s notebook. �
�She was right, your mother.” He handed me the notebook. “Remember when I was in your cabin that first time and I saw the photo of you together? I thought he was your brother because I saw it, saw the identical smile.”

  Holy shit. I couldn’t breathe.

  Julian continued, “And since we’ve been here, I’ve been able to see how he thinks, how he moves. You move the same way, Andra. I thought it was odd and maybe I suspected it, but when I read this,” he tapped on the cover of the worn book in my hand, “it all made sense.”

  I was angry. I was confused. My world had bottomed out.

  “Give me your phone,” I said, reaching a hand for it.

  Julian handed me his phone and I opened the notebook to the page my mother had revealed her deepest secret. I lifted the phone in camera mode and tried taking a photo of the page. But I was shaking so hard that I nearly dropped both the phone and the journal on the floor.

  “Here,” Julian said softly, taking them from my hands and snapping the photo himself. He handed me the phone and I composed a text to Six with the photo attached.

  “Call me,” was all the text said.

  Less than a minute later he was calling.

  “Did you know?” I didn’t bother with a traditional greeting.

  “No.” The word was soft. “Liddie - your mom – always implied her boyfriend was the father.”

  “Could this be true?” I didn’t want to ask specifics. I just needed the answers.

  “Sure,” Six said. His voice was subdued and a little awkward. “It was a one-time thing, right before I left for basic training.”

  Six had been in the military. Some things were making sense, but this still didn’t make any sense.

  “Why?” I asked, my brain exploding with questions.

  “Because we thought we loved each other. We did love each other. Christ, Andra. This is news to me too.”

  “I meant why didn’t she tell you? Or me? Why keep it secret?”

  I heard Six groan from the other end. “Because I’m an idiot.”

  “What does that mean?” My questions were coming faster as they cycled through my brain. Memories and questions tangled themselves together.

  “I was young, Andra. I said some stupid shit to your mom when I left. I was pissed she was still with the dickwad she was dating and even more pissed that she didn’t break up with him when we…when we were together.” I heard him heave a sigh. “I told her I wasn’t cut out for domestic life. She probably took that to mean I wouldn’t help her with a baby.” He paused. “With you.”

  There was quiet between us then. “I can’t,” I started. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Six’s voice was quiet. “There’s nothing to do, Andra. These are the facts.”

  “The fact,” I corrected. “You’re my father.” I thought for a moment. “The family dinners make sense now.”

  “What?”

  “The family dinners my mom had on Sundays. I always thought it was funny that she called them that, considering you were our only guest.”

  “Shit,” he hissed, drawing the word out.

  I couldn’t process this. My brain was about to go into shut down mode. I handed the phone to Julian and walked out of the room, down the stairs, and out the door. I walked calmly all the way to the library and logged into the computer.

  I sent one final message to Hawthorne, with an address to the library included.

  I wandered the town, formulating my plan. I walked down to the edge of the water and said another prayer.

  When the sun started to set, I took my time walking back to the house, removing my shoes and walking into the water at one point. I let the tide brush against my legs, focusing one hundred percent on this. I didn’t want any other emotions to rule me. I needed to go into this with a clear head. I needed to push aside all my distractions. I needed to get my freedom back, once and for all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Julian seemed to understand that I needed to be left alone. When I finally came through the door that night, he just held me. He didn’t push, not an inch.

  The following morning, I set off for the library. I waited outside, down the block, all the while knowing that it was likely too early for Hawthorne to already be here. After a couple hours, I headed back to the beach house. I assumed Hawthorne would look at the time stamps of my emails and see that I always sent them in the morning.

  The next day, I followed the same pattern. When the library remained free of signs of Hawthorne, I returned to the beach house.

  Another day followed. Still no sign of Hawthorne. I was becoming increasingly restless.

  After the third attempt, Six called. I didn’t speak to him, not knowing what to say. I shook my head at Julian as he held the phone to me, so he took the call himself.

  “He’ll be here tomorrow afternoon,” Julian told me after hanging up. “I’m guessing you two will need to talk.”

  But I didn’t want to talk to Six or to anyone. I wanted to be done.

  I wanted Hawthorne to show the fuck up.

  The following day I changed up my pattern, and walked straight into the library. I hadn’t checked my email since sending the message to Hawthorne, so I decided to log in and see if he’d replied.

  Except he hadn’t. My email sat empty, except for the older messages he’d sent me. And the voice clip.

  I opened the voice clip and contemplated turning the volume on low to listen to the message.

  Just as I was fiddling with the volume controls, I heard his voice. Hawthorne’s voice. I started at the computer, assuming I had started the clip by accident. But the clip wasn’t running. Hawthorne was in the library.

  I held my breath as I listened to him flirt with Anita.

  “This is such a quaint town,” he commented. I was thankful I couldn’t see Anita’s desk from where I sat on one side of the library.

  “It’s a nice place to be,” Anita agreed.

  My heart started thundering. I placed a hand to my chest, feeling each beat through my shirt. Could they hear it? I wondered.

  I clicked “Forward” on the email with the voice clip. With fingers light on the keys and blood pumping loudly in my ears, I typed Julian’s email address, the one he’d used to check in to the ranch so many months before. Luckily, he was the kind of guy who used first name-last name as his email handle, so it was easy to remember.

  I paused, hoping the clicking of keys hadn’t alerted anyone to my presence in the back of the library. When I heard Hawthorne speak again, I inhaled a deep, steady breath and typed in the body of the email.

  I hope this isn’t another goodbye.

  I paused, listening for Hawthorne again. He was talking to Anita about beach towns. Quietly, I continued typing.

  I’m at the town library. Hawthorne is here.

  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to disrupt my plans. You’re my anchor, keeping me safe, always.

  I reached up and played with my necklace for a moment. But then I remembered where I was, what I was doing. I needed to send this email and remove Julian from my head to fight.

  I need you to find me again. I’m your north star, right? I’m not sure how far I can get, but I’m aiming for the ocean.

  My fingers trembled when I clicked “Send.” The blood was roaring in my ears. I turned off the screen and stood up from the computer, trying to be as quiet as possible.

  Walking around the stacks of books, I peeked through the last row that had a clear view of the library entrance. Hawthorne was leaning on Anita’s desk. It struck me that it was the first time I was seeing him in years. He’d cleaned up for the occasion, his gray-black hair brushed back. He was clean shaven and wearing jeans and a black sweater. He looked…normal.

  But I knew who he was, deep down. I knew this was a mask he wore, much like I knew the churning in my stomach was due to his presence.

  “What brings you to our town?” Anita asked, leaning into Hawthorne.

  “Oh, just passing thr
ough,” he said easily, twisting his head to look around at the surroundings. His eyes fell upon the stack I hid on the other side of. Did he see me? I wondered.

  I didn’t have time to worry about it. I needed to figure a way out of this building.

  “Can I help you with anything? Finding a place to stay in town?”

  I heard his chuckle, the one that sent shivers down my spine. A memory tried to break through, but I pushed it stubbornly back. I couldn’t lose myself to a memory now. My hand found my necklace, found the anchor and I ran my fingers over it, while silently reciting the colors around me.

  “No, I think it will be a very short visit,” he answered. He ducked his head slightly, looking on the opposite end of the library.

  “That’s unfortunate,” Anita commented. Trust me, Anita, it’s not, I thought.

  Anita’s phone rang. She smiled apologetically at Hawthorne before answering.

  Hawthorne’s eyes continued to wander and I assumed he hadn’t seen me.

  “No? There’s no one here by that name.” There was a pause. “Y-y-yes,” Anita’s voice fumbled. “She’s here.”

  Hawthorne’s face snapped, and he darted his head left and right, seemingly choosing which way to go.

  “Who is this?” Anita asked, the jitter still present in her voice.

  Hawthorne walked right, towards the fiction stacks.

  I ran for the door, wrenching it up just as Anita called “Cora!” I didn’t waste a second looking to see if Hawthorne was following, because I knew he was.

  As I ran down the road, I was thankful that my body was strong. My breaths were coming in and out, rapid-fire, as my heart beat thundered in my chest. My limbs were warming as I sprinted further down the road, closer to the beach.

  I passed a dozen people walking their dogs or sitting on benches, completely oblivious to what was unfolding on the streets of this sleepy town.

  The beach came into view and I pushed harder. It was then that I made a mistake.