One Big Mistake: a friends to lovers rom-com

by Whitney Barbetti

  I laughed, confirming that she was right. Since my aunt’s house was a three bedroom, the twins had always shared one bedroom, leaving Violet and me to share the other. When I moved out, Violet got the room to herself. And when Violet moved out, Jade was already bringing her stuff into the room before Violet had even backed out of the driveway.

  “I have to work in the afternoon,” I told her. “But we can go to the store in the morning and get you some stuff.”

  “I don’t need anything.”

  “You need a phone and at the very least a change of clothes.”

  “I can just wear yours.”

  “Violet…” I gripped the steering wheel as I mulled over how to talk about the elephant in the room. “Are you back back? Or is this just a visit?”

  “I’m back back.”

  “Okay.” I exhaled a breath I’d been holding. “Then you need your own stuff. It’s going to be summer soon, and you can’t live in hoodies forever.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m plenty comfortable wearing my hoodie. Besides, this is freezing compared to L.A.”

  I didn’t want to argue about her clothing. It was one-thirty in the morning. Really, I didn’t want to talk about anything heavy without a clear head. And since Violet seemed reluctant to discuss what was going on, I wasn’t in the mood to press. But Violet staying at Aunt Isabel’s house was really a temporary solution. Once our aunt came back, she’d need other plans. “What are your long-term plans?”

  Violet shrugged, looking like she wished she was anywhere but in this metal and glass box with me. “I dunno. I guess I’ll get a job, get a place.”

  I rubbed my lips together, deciding to give up on the conversation completely. There was no point, really, at all. Violet’s ambitions had always been vague things that required no immediate action. Her expectations were often higher than they should be given the little effort she put into making her goals a reality. “How was the bus ride?” I asked, instead of asking her how she was going to make the job and place happen.

  “Long.” She rubbed the sleeve covering her wrist over her nose and sniffed. Though I couldn’t see her eyes, I knew she was staring down at the floor.

  “I can lend you some stuff if you want to shower when we get back. And we’ll go and get you things tomorrow.”

  “I don’t need to shower tonight. I just want to fall into a bed. I’ve been vertical for two days; I’m very much looking forward to laying down.”

  “Did you get a nap in Salt Lake?”

  “I couldn’t sleep there. It was so noisy. I just walked to a nearby park and sat under a tree.”

  Guilt moved through me in a wave. I should’ve figured something else out, figured out a way to pick her up from Salt Lake instead of making her walk around a city with little or no money for nearly half of a day. “I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up there. It was just me and one of Auntie’s employees at the store all day.”

  “It’s fine. I got some sun and fresh air, at least. The girls have school tomorrow?”

  “They do. So I’ll be up early to drive them. I’ll pick up breakfast on my way back, okay?”

  “I’m fine with cereal.”

  “Auntie hasn’t bought sugary cereal in years,” I told her. The gauntness of her face was making me want to ply her with all the calorie-rich foods. “Anything you’re craving?”

  Her head turned toward me. “Craving?”

  “Yeah.” I looked between her and the red light I was stopped out. “We don’t have L.A. offerings, of course, but we’ve got that bagel place and a new breakfast food truck.”

  “I don’t care.” She stared out the window again. “Get whatever.”

  “Okay.” I turned down the road that led to our aunt’s house. “But I’m just letting you know now—we need to talk about things tomorrow. If you’re in trouble—”

  “I’m not in trouble.”

  “Okay. But you haven’t told me anything. If I’m going to help you, I need you to talk to me.”

  “Tomorrow,” she said on a whisper as I pulled into the driveway.

  We entered the house quietly. Jade’s music was still loud enough to hear as we climbed the stairs. We could’ve been a herd of elephants and we still wouldn’t wake her.

  When we entered our aunt’s room, Violet slung her bag off her shoulder and dropped it onto the air mattress. “No,” I told her. “I’ll sleep there. You get the bed.”

  “It’s fine. I just slept on a bus; an air mattress is practically a cloud in comparison.”

  “That’s exactly why you get the bed.” Technically, our aunt’s bed was big enough for both of us—a queen—but Violet was not just distant emotionally. She’d moved fully across the room, to the side furthest from the door.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, shoving her hands into the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie. “I can sleep there, really.”

  “I’m positive. Do you need a toothbrush or anything?” It was nearly two in the morning and I’d need to drag the twins out of bed in just four and a half hours.

  “I’m good.”

  “I’ll be quick,” I told her, when she made no rush toward the ensuite bathroom. I quickly brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and washed my face. When I exited the bathroom, the room was pitch-black. I stood in the doorway a moment until I heard her quiet, even breaths. As my eyes adjusted, I could make out the Violet-shaped lump under the covers. She was fully passed out.

  I climbed into the covers of the air mattress and rolled over until I was comfortable. I knew I was tired. From the bottom of my feet all the way to the tension that tightened the skin in my forehead. I don’t know if being out in the cold early morning air had reinvigorated me or if my nerves from the unknown that tomorrow would bring were keeping me awake, but it was a very long time before I fell asleep.

  When I returned the following morning from bringing Rose and Jade to school, Violet was still asleep. I debated waking her up, but I still had six hours before work, so I bided my time cleaning the bathrooms and vacuuming as the breakfast I’d brought back with me had grown cold. I checked emails for the music store and checked in with Hollis, not telling her exactly what had happened—but that I’d need to postpone our weekly Thursday girls' night this week.

  As the hours ticked by, I struggled with the desire to wake Violet up and talk to her. Part of me wanted to, but another part of me suppressed that desire. I avoided conflict like it was the plague, choosing to be oblivious to it sometimes. It was a survival mechanism from childhood and being uprooted a half dozen times before I was five years old. It was bred from hiding where I could when my parents argued about whatever it was that week that pissed them off. Their daughters were usually the root of their problems, the thorns in their sides that tied them down and sucked their bank accounts dry. It had been easier when it was just me and Violet, but when the twins came along, my parents had all but given up on the whole parenting schtick. Aunt Isabel swooped in, insisting that they bring us to her. They did, and never looked back. Not having an additional fourth mouths to feed, four bodies to clothe, and a house to shelter us all had solved their marital woes.

  It was impossible not to be a little bitter about it. I wouldn’t want to be with my parents again, but I was bitter over the childhood I had to abandon very young. That’s why my aunt was a Godsend, a person I’d do anything for. And that’s why she and my sisters were all the family I wanted. Families didn’t abandon you. And whatever trouble Violet was in, I wouldn’t abandon her either.

  The click of a door upstairs signaled that Violet was awake. Water sounded through the pipes, letting me know she was using the bathroom.

  I busied myself brewing a pot of coffee and reheating the breakfast I’d picked up for us both. I’d need both to get me through the rest of the day. Probably all of the coffee, too.

  “Good morning,” I said, when I heard rather than saw her behind me. “Still a ton of sugar and creamer in your coffee?”

  “Yeah.” Her voic
e was small, soft, coated with that raspy quality that was so familiar after sharing a room with her for most of our lives. I poured a cup for us both and turned around.

  As my gaze found her, my hands trembled, and I nearly dropped both mugs. “Violet,” I said, my stomach volleying to my throat.

  She was more black and blue than the beautiful tanned skin I knew she had. Around her throat was a choker of bruised circles and with her hair pulled back from her face, I could see that the bruises wrapped fully around her neck like a garrote imbedded in her skin.

  Her eyes met mine before she turned away. She must have been wearing makeup the night before, because her skin looked so much different this morning. It was sallow, with dark circles that were nearly black under her eyes and red across the cheek she had turned to me.

  With shaking hands, I set the mugs down on the table and reached for her. I didn’t even know what to say, but I knew I needed to hold her, to comfort her, though the physical ache of these bruises had likely mostly faded.

  “I just wanted to get it all out,” she said. I watched her throat move with a hard swallow and she chanced a glance at me. “I found your bag of clothes. Hope you don’t mind that I borrowed a couple things.”

  I hadn’t even noticed and didn’t care. “Violet.” My voice shook. “What happened?”

  She licked her lips and turned away from me, for the mug. When she had both hands wrapped around it, her eyes darted toward me. “Can we sit in the living room?”

  “Sure.” I grabbed my own mug and moved my feet to follow her, but it felt so robotic. It must have been shock that made me so unaware of my own movements, but deep concern and heartache drove me forward. I wanted to hold her, to run my hands over the bruises that dotted her skin. But she was curled up on the couch like she didn’t want to be touched.

  “Tyler,” she said, meeting my eyes fully for the first time. She grabbed a blanket off of the back of the couch and covered herself with it. With both hands on her mug, she brought it to her lips and took a long sip. “I know this looks bad, but it’s…” She took another sip and tipped her head back as she swallowed. “It’s not as bad as it’s been.”

  “Tyler. Your boyfriend?” The reason she’d stayed in L.A. after she lost her first job.

  “Yes. Well, I guess ‘ex’ is more accurate now.”

  “He did this to you?” Warmth flooded my face, from anger and hurt. “He…” I swallowed the pain that built up. Pain seeing her like this. Pain knowing she had been hurt by someone and I hadn’t been there to protect her.

  “He did.” She said it almost nonchalantly. “I let him do it for too long. I should’ve left a year ago.”

  I set my mug down, needing to brace my hands on my knees as I took this news in. I couldn’t process that someone had put their hands on my sister, had caused her this pain. That she’d believed she had let him do this to her. That I’d been oblivious to it. I hadn’t checked on her the way I should have. I’d failed my sister. “Lets,” I said, my voice gravelly and weak. I blinked away the tears that had formed in my eyes.

  “I know. I didn’t want to tell you sooner, I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” I stood up, needing an outlet for the frustration building in me. “Why? It’s not your fault.” My little sister had been abused by someone she’d loved. She’d been in fear, she’d been hurt by hands that had loved her. And she was sorry? What the fuck?

  “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone—”

  I had resolved to hear her out, but I couldn’t take the apology in her tone. “Please, Violet. Do not apologize for not telling me. Don’t apologize for him” I paced back and forth, glancing at her from time to time. “How can I help you?”

  “You already have. I’m home.”

  Violence like I’d never felt before lit through me. “He doesn’t know you’re here, right?”

  “No.” She was adamant. “I mean, I’m sure eventually he’ll figure out where I am. He knows I’m from a small town in Idaho. He just has to ask the right people and he’ll figure it out.”

  “We can go to the police.”

  Violet laughed, but it was without mirth. “His fucking dad is a cop. And besides, you know what they say about”—she held up her fingers in air quotes for her next word—“victims.”

  I didn’t know. And I hated that she did. “What do they say?”

  “Victims need photos, they need videos, audio recordings, witnesses. And even still, they’re doubted. And abusers just need to say they didn’t do it and they’re believed.”

  “But you have evidence. Your body…” I choked on the word. I was angry, I was heartbroken. Someone had treated my sister like she was a fucking punching bag.

  I wanted to kill him. It seemed irrational that I could think such a thing so coldly, but there it was. Hovering at the front of my brain. I couldn’t say it to her, not right now. I didn’t want to scare her, not when she’d been scared enough.

  “I don’t want to do it, Navy. Okay? I don’t want him to know I’m here. I don’t want to subject myself to testify.”

  “We’ll make sure he doesn’t find you. Auntie has a different last name than us,” I reminded her when she seemed doubtful.

  “I can’t stay here, though.”

  I waved that away. “I know I said that last night, but we’ll figure something out. You can stay with me at mine and Hollis’s place.”

  “No, I can’t.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her she was wrong. But she was right. The apartment I shared with Hollis was technically in my name, and my sisters and I had our dad’s last name. It wouldn’t take too long for him to find me, if he had half a brain.

  “We’ll figure it out,” I said again. I sat back down and scooted as close to her as I could. “I promise you.” She didn’t say anything. Her eyes were trained on the floor. Unloading what she’d gone through had changed her. I needed her back. I held up my pinky finger the way we’d done as kids. The way I did with my friends. “I promise,” I repeated.

  “It’s not that easy,” she whispered. “If…” she looked down for a moment before lifting her head again. A breath shuddered from her mouth. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come home.”

  “This is exactly where you should have come. I’m glad you’re here. You’re not going to be alone again.”

  “Right.” But she wasn’t looking at me, she was looking down again. “I know I’m not alone.”

  When she didn’t lift her head, I looked down too. She moved the blankets away from her lap, exposing her stomach. She rested a hand on it, and it was then that I noticed its very slight curve.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  13

  KEANE

  Her text had been short, to the point, which wasn’t like Navy.

  Navy: Can you meet me tonight? I get off work at 8.

  Because it hadn’t sounded like her, I made sure to be at her work earlier than eight, to make sure she was okay. It was just her and Delilah working and though I might have been mostly unobservant in the way of females, Navy appeared to be completely fine to me.

  Delilah was at the register and the store was nearly empty when I arrived. Waving to her, I made my way to the back office where I found Navy reviewing the tapes from the morning.

  “Hey,” she said to me when I rapped my knuckles on the door.

  “You good?”

  “Yeah, sorry you caught me early. I should be done soon.” I lingered at the door a bit longer to gauge her mood, but she seemed hyper focused more than anything.

  “K. I’ll just bug Delilah then.”

  Delilah was ringing up a customer, so I wandered around the store, checking out the little ukuleles and guitars before abandoning them. Didn’t want to break shit while Navy was on duty. When the bell rang above the door, signaling the customer’s exit, I moseyed my way to the front of the store.

  “Nice of you to show up for your shift,” I said to Delilah as I browsed the colorful display of Amber La
ke postcards.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” she looked toward the back, where Navy was, and I tucked my tongue in my cheek. I shouldn’t have said that.

  “Hey, how’s B-Rad?” I unwrapped a mint in the bowl next to the counter and flipped it in the air, catching it in my mouth. “He still seeing what’s-her-name? Felicia?”

  The color drained from her cheeks. “Alicia. And no. I mean, they’re not even serious. It’s just friends.”

  “Oh, yeah. I heard they were real friendly on their trip to Vail.”

  “They didn’t go to Vail.” But her voice wavered. “He and I went skiing in Utah in February. We’re going to get back together. He even bought all my gear.”

  “Right.” I waved a hand in front of my face. “The blue and pink striped ski mask? I saw it on Facebook.”

  “Yes.” She straightened. “How’d you see it? We’re not friends on there.”

  “Oh,” I waved nonchalantly. “Sorry, I saw that ski mask on Alicia’s Facebook. From her trip with B-Rad to Vail in March. Looked like a cute ski mask though, she probably just wanted to borrow it.” I tucked the mint into the pocket of my cheek.

  “That’s not the same one.” But I saw the color drain from her face, the flicker of distrust in her eyes as she thought through what I told her. She was right to not trust Brad—he was a scumbag.

  Delilah wasn’t my favorite person in the world, but no girl needed to moon after a guy who was just stringing her along. “What do you want?” Delilah asked, popping the sucker she’d hidden during the customer’s transaction back into her mouth. She leaned on the counter, facing me. “We have a policy against loiterers.”

  “Do you?” I scratched my chin in mock contemplation. “Don’t see it anywhere.”

  “Oh? Never regained your vision after I threw that drink at you last summer?”

  “Cinnamon whiskey to the eyeballs.” I pressed a hand to my chest. “Yes, I remember.”