by A. J. Sand
Erica’s stomach knotted when she stared up at the apartment building she and Bryson lived in. She pictured herself stepping through the door, walking down the foyer, passing the kitchen she loved so much. Then stepping into the living room. Seeing the bordeaux curtains pulled back, revealing the splendid sweeping views of the cityscape surrounding busy La Cienga Boulevard, which she and Naomi were currently idling at the corner of. She imagined every single piece of homey, comfortable furniture she and Bryson had swapped his modern, high-end bachelor furniture for. It was a home now too beautiful for her darkness. So, she forced herself not to see it anymore. She couldn’t see it if she intended to do what she had come to do in a few minutes.
Erica slammed her fist into the dashboard and felt nothing. “He doesn’t deserve this.” Another punch. Another. Then another. “He doesn’t! He doesn’t! No one deserves this, Naomi. I fucking hate this. But I… I can’t…” She loss count of the thuds she heard. Over and over. All she saw was her hand driving into it. On repeat. Felt nothing.
“Erica, stop! Please, stop! You’re scaring me!” Naomi’s whimpering voice halted her momentum, and Naomi started sobbing into her palms. “I don’t know how to help you. Oh, God, I don’t know how…”
She didn’t want Naomi to have to help her. Finally the pain came and she dropped her cramping fist to her lap. “I can’t let him see me like this. I don’t want him to see me like this. I fucking hate this. I can’t…” She lowered her head to her lap, crying in the quiet car, thinking about how devastated Bryson would be. The camellia flowers. The spot she’d touched on the globe. The beautiful white dress pinned to a virtual pin board online. They had plans. But with her like this, he wouldn’t still see those plans when he looked at her. In an instant, she would become someone who needed to be tended to and worried about unreasonably. Pitied. Broken. She would become Karen. She’d fought so hard to never be Karen.
No. She would never be that.
Erica lifted her head and brushed the tears off her face with the heels of her hands. “I’ll be out in fifteen minutes,” she said in a brusque tone before getting out of the car and walking into the building. So much tension had developed in her legs that it felt like she was dragging large cement blocks with her ankles. The elevator docked on their floor faster than it ever had. But she could do this, she reminded herself. She just needed to shut down for a few minutes, drop a steel wall between her and everything beyond the door of her apartment.
But the moment she reached the door, the sobs washed over her, accompanied by a clenching in her chest that cut her breaths short. She braced her hand on the frame when her legs were almost folding completely beneath her. He was waiting for her in there. He thought she was coming home to be his wife when the truth was, she was about to unleash havoc. But it was better than him having to deal with the chaos looming inside of her.
Erica unlocked the door and strolled quickly into the apartment. His presence in their open kitchen startled her while her presence sparked joy in him. He had been cooking for her. Fuck. She hated this. And Erica wasn’t sure if she could handle him touching her right now. Too many hands had been on her recently; all of it felt violating. She didn’t want to hurt Bryson. He wasn’t…him.
He greeted her with a big, sweet smile, and what was once a soothing sight had to be a blade across the heart today. She had to hate it. She needed to get out. She steeled her resolve. “Hey, baby!” he said. Bryson flew around the edge of the kitchen island, and Erica moved back with every progressive step he made toward her, until she was against the wall. She was trembling. Bryson approached with trepidation and stopped about two feet away from her. “Erica? What’s wrong?”
Numb. She just wanted to be numb to the concern in his soft brown eyes. Just get through this. Just get through this. “I’m probably gonna stay with Naomi for a few days more.”
“Oh…” he said, and Erica cast her eyes to the floor before the disappointed expression formed fully on his face. “Okay…um…what’s going on? Are you all right? ‘Cause you didn’t sound like it on the phone and now you’re ready to crawl up the wall to get away from me.”
“Just got a lot going on. I’m under a lot of stress.”
“Baby, you’ve been on vacation…” he teased with a smile, but when she didn’t return it, he quickly dropped his. “Is it the wedding? I know I pushed the elopement thing, but we don’t have to do that…” Desperation crawled into his tone as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You know that, right? We’re in no rush, E.”
“I just came to get some stuff, Bryce. I don’t want to talk right now.”
“Erica, what…” He moved to touch her and she dodged his hand, turning her back to him as she headed for the bedroom. “Erica, wait!” If the duration of their interaction were short, it wouldn’t escalate into something horrible that would then be the memory he would have of today. But that was stupid. As if it were possible to pick the degree of hurt an action would have on someone.
But she just had to get out.
Erica shut her eyes and held her breath the moment she stepped inside. There were camellias everywhere. A bunch of “Welcome Home” balloons sat in the corner. I’m so sorry, Bryce, she thought. I’m so, so sorry. A swift stride put her in the walk-in closet just as her tears fell. Her muscles clenched beneath her trembling. Get your stuff. Go.
“You’re just not gonna talk to me?” he asked when he reached the entry of the closet. He cast a shadow on the wall in front of her as she gathered clothing into a duffel bag. It was handfuls of stuff she hadn’t worn in ages and unpaired shoes. Who cares? Just go. She kept her back to him without allowing herself a single moment to turn around. What she was doing was heinous and unforgivable. Shutting down like this was her at her worst. Well, it had been once. Now her worst was what she was only letting Naomi get a glimpse of.
“I need to get by, Bryce,” she said firmly—coldly—when she finally spun around.
He stepped away without a word; instead, just a hurt, confused stare burned into her when she walked by to the dresser.
This was the point of no return. What she was about to do next would shift everything. She wished he’d just stayed in the kitchen.
Erica lifted her jewelry box from where it was situated and she nearly broke down into more sobs when she saw the rectangular coat of dust now taking its place. It hadn’t moved since she had determined that this was the place for it. It shook in her hands, but then she realized the shaking was actually Bryson trying to pry it out of her grip without being too forceful.
“No. Put it down,” he said, stuck somewhere between begging and being insistent.
Erica never went anywhere of significance without her jewelry. “Bryce…please let it go.”
“Please talk to me.” He was breathing so hard already, and it looked like it hurt. “Please put it down. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Let go of it.” She couldn’t even feel the ground anymore. I’m so sorry, Bryce. I just want to go. Erica held her breath to combat the pressure rising in her chest. She clenched her teeth.
“No.”
“Let. Go.” Bryson tightened his hold on the jewelry box. Goddammit, why couldn’t he just go? “Fine. Fuck it. You want it so badly? Keep it.” Maybe if she hurt him enough, he’d just go away.
“I don’t fucking want it. I want you.” They both released it at the same time, and it crashed to the ground, spilling jewelry everywhere. Erica stepped past him and went into the bathroom for more of her things, grabbing everything. From the sink. From the shower. “Baby, just tell me what happened.”
Just keep moving. Erica scooted by him at the doorway.
“You’re really leaving, aren’t you?” Bryson backed away from her and sat on the bed and raised his hands to his face. She just wanted to go to him. But she couldn’t. A knot pulled in her throat. She had to get out.
“For a little while.” He would never get over this. Never. “A long while. I don’t know.”
“I d
on’t understand why you’re doing this. Just talk to me. It’s me, Erica. Come on. Baby, what happened? Tell me what happened… It’s me. I’m here for you. It’s me and you, right?”
“I'm all right.” But she heard how flat her tone was, how unbelievable she sounded. Dizziness destabilized her steps, and she took in slow, controlled breaths. He trailed her out of the bedroom and into the hallway, but his footsteps were far more labored than before. All of her muscles were tensing, so strained from repressing how badly she wanted to cry. “I’m all right. Okay? I just need a break. From this.” Just get to the door… Just get to the door…
Bryson grabbed her arm and spun her. “You're leaving your home. Nothing is fucking all right, Erica.”
Erica lifted her gaze and forced herself to glare at him. “I’m going,” she said coldly. You don’t want to see. You don’t want to see what’s really under here. It’s horrible. It’s better this way.
“Why?”
“I can’t be here anymore.” I can’t be me anymore. I’m broken. And it hurts. You shouldn’t see. I don’t want you to see.
“Tell me why?”
“No.”
“Erica… goddammit. Talk to me.”
“Just let me go.” Erica yanked her arm out of his grasp. And the motion should not have been powerful enough to move him, but Bryson collapsed to his hands and knees in front of her. Finally she broke down, squeezing most of it in, crying quietly before she slinked to the ground next to him. She was shattered, and too shattered to not just destroy everything around her, too. She was poisonous. Erica placed her trembling hand on top of his. But just barely. “I’m—”
“Oh my God, Bryce!” Joseline, his housekeeper, screamed behind Erica. This was supposed to be her last week. Erica had been planning a small dinner for her and her family. She ran to them and her worried eyes swiveled between them. “Erica? What’s going on? Is one of you hurt?”
Yes. “Joss, would you please make sure he’s okay?” Erica slid up the wall on shaky legs. Unforgivable. So fucking unforgivable.
“What happened?”
Me. She turned back to look at Joss next to Bryson, who was still paralyzed in that position. Bryson on his hands and knees. “I have to go, Joss. I’m sorry. I just have to go. I’m so sorry.” Suddenly she was outside without a memory of taking the elevator or walking out of the building. Choking. Struggling to take in her breaths. Her chest was burning, her throat constricting. She watched spots on the concrete below her palms darken as tears slipped off her chin.
“Erica! Oh my God,” Naomi said as she ran toward her. “Please… please get up.” Her sister pulled her to standing position from the sidewalk and slung her bag to her shoulder. As they slowly moved to the car, Erica turned once and looked at the building…and the whole thing might as well have been on fire.
“Definitely playing weddings now,” Kai joked. “Haven’t you heard, dude, my career’s in the toilet.” After he introduced Dylan, Kai flashed her a smile at Erica and led Dylan out to the dance floor. A parade of her friends came over to greet him before leaving them the only two at the table. Bryson looked over at her with an adorable smile, and she couldn’t keep her hands still or get her heart rate down. But it wasn’t a bad feeling.
“Hey, you…” Bryson said as he slid into the empty seat next to her.
“Hi, you look nice.” Like most of the guys at the party, he had opted for a suit without a tie. But she obviously thought he looked the best.
“Can we talk?” Bryson asked as he stood and offered his hand. He looked down briefly when their palms touched. Shit. Her ring. The stone was turned inward from her habitual twisting. He didn’t know she was still wearing it. They moved through the darkness until the voices of the party died down. When they reached the pond, he wriggled out of his jacket and set in on the grass for her to sit, but he stayed standing. “Pretty sure there’s room for you. Naomi has been telling me for years that I have no real ass. Wait, you’ve seen it. You know.”
He released a labored laugh as he eased down next to her. “I really thought I had the upper hand by making you sweat it out this week for trying to make me leave you, but the ring totally just threw me off, E…” He slipped his hand under hers and linked their fingers like he needed to be sure it was really there. “You’ve been wearing it this whole time?”
“I wear it a lot.”
“This is what I don’t get, E. You left, but you were still in this. You came back, you’re still in this, but you’re trying to make me leave. Why do you keep pushing me away?”
“Maybe because I keep thinking one day you’re going to see something that’ll make you want to go, anyway,” she admitted, and saying it didn’t alleviate the worry.
“Look at me,” he said, and he adjusted so that she could swing her legs around. He lifted her heels to his thigh. “You’ve been doing it wrong, kid, ‘cause I'm right here. I will always be right here. I’m yours. I’m here tonight because I’ve only ever been.”
“But, Bryce, you haven’t seen—”
“Only one of two things is ever going to make me really leave, Erica: an act of God or...you taking off that damn ring right now.” Bryson looked up at the sky then back at her in a stare of defiance. “Doesn't look like He's interested, so take off the ring, Erica. That’s how I’ll know you’re really giving up on me. On this.” He jutted his hand out in front of her, palm up.
“Bryson, I—”
“No, E.” Bryson transitioned to his knees and placed his hands on her thighs. “Forever was the only condition I ever put on us. So if it ends here, you’ll have to take that off. Now. Take it off, for good, if it's really over.”
But she couldn’t. As scared as she was, she couldn’t. So she grabbed his face and mashed a kiss on his lips. Against hers, his lips stretched into a smile, and without a break, Bryson’s arms curled around her, and he lowered them both down to his jacket. Bryson pressed their linked hands into the grass above their heads, and he playfully dotted sloppy kisses all over her face and neck until her giggles turned to hysterical laughter. He finally showed her mercy and hovered over her with a big grin as she caught her breath.
“No more! No more!” she said.
“One more! Last one, I promise.” He swept her hair from her face, leaned down and pressed a kiss right below her ear. “To my very last breath, Erica Anne, you are it for me.”
Erica hadn’t made out with a guy like that since, well, him. They took turns using his cell’s camera to find all the traces of lipstick on both their faces and helped each other brush blades of grass off their clothes. Bryson held up the phone for her as she tended to her hair. Erica’s formerly pinned-up hair was now half-up and half-down.
“You look fine,” he said.
She made a face and let all her hair fall to her shoulders. “Yeah, if I wanted everyone to know we’ve been rolling around in the grass, Ellis.”
“Well, I do!” Bryson teased as he pulled her back toward the party area. “Are you sure Naomi’s not going to mind if we leave?” He was so anxious to get her out of there, and it made her giddy.
“Nope.” She’d handcuff the two of us together if she could. Erica blushed under the stares that turned their way as they approached holding hands. Even Kai was losing interest in his own ballad. Naomi was beaming and nearly galloping toward them. She’d moved so fast, it took Hayden a few seconds to realize that he was suddenly dancing alone. She was looking back and forth between Erica and Bryson like a mother right before her daughter’s first prom. Actually, everyone was staring like she was their daughter.
“Hey…Meems. So, about the toast…” Erica said.
“Go, E,” she said with impatience. “You’ll just have to make sure the one you give at the wedding is amazing.” After giving Naomi a hug, Bryson went off to signal one of the garden workers for a golf cart to drive them to the parking lot.
“Have a good night, Meems. I love you.” Erica got teary-eyed as she yanked her sister into a tight hug. �
�Thank you for believing in what I couldn’t, and I’m sorry about today. I haven’t really thought about what the last year or so did to you, too.”
“I know. And it’s okay. You don’t always have to think about me, Erica. Love you, too.” Naomi shooed her away when the golf cart pulled up, and Erica shot her friends a parting wave before dashing for Bryson’s lap on the cart..
In the car, he drove with her tucked under his arm, leaning against his chest with her legs bent against the passenger side door the entire time. It was probably dangerous, but neither of them bothered to adjust. At the stoplights, he would kiss the top of her head until the light turned green. Yeah, they were cheesy—they had always been this way—and she really didn’t care. The world was right again.
Bryson pulled into his reserved spot in the underground garage of his apartment building, and like she always did, she tensed when he got a little too close to the column on the right. It was her first time being back here since she left, and her stomach immediately clenched with anxiety when they entered the elevator. The feeling only got stronger when they entered the apartment. She wrung her clammy hands together as she stepped inside. Heat was pulsating down her back. Maybe it was too soon to be here; maybe the gloom she’d left here was still in the air.
“Um, I didn’t change anything, so, you know your way around,” Bryson said as he tossed his keys to the kitchen counter as he walked by it. She had barely made it past the foyer, but he was telling the truth from what she could tell when she finally stepped into the living area. Nothing was different. It was still frozen in the same moment she had walked out on. It made her happy but saddened her at the same time. Bryson never wanted to move on.
If he was nervous about her being here, he didn’t show it as he picked a magazine up from the pile of mail splayed on the counter and then pulled two bottles of water from the fridge. “You hungry, E?”