Fight For Me

by Claudia Burgoa

  “Fifteen,” Harrison corrects her, staring at their daughter for one too many seconds.

  She’s almost as tall as her mother, the same light brown hair, but with her tips dyed purple and pink. She has her mother’s green eyes, but her facial features aren’t that similar. I hold in a gasp, as I remember him mentioning that he had a live-in girlfriend fifteen or sixteen years ago.

  “Harrison, I’m sorry about—” Damon shuts his mouth when Harrison glares at him.

  He waves his hands, shaking his head. The anger is gone. I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but I can at least tell that he’s no longer upset.

  “It was long ago, Damon. It’s all good. What you two did was f—” he stops, looks at me and smiles—“freaking wrong, but it worked out for you. Maybe if we had met somewhere else at another time, this encounter would’ve been different.”

  After a long pause he adds, “Friendlier.”

  He’s not upset, but my heart tells me that he wants this to be over right about now. “Ready to go in?” I ask him.

  He bends and kisses my cheek. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

  We excuse ourselves and step inside, and I watch him as he scans the crowded hall and closes his eyes with a sigh. “I think they’ll understand if I just drop the flowers and leave.”

  “They are with you in your heart, Harry.” I repeat the words that I heard often from my Abue when I used to tell her that I wished for a gravestone to visit for my mother. Visiting a sprawling lavender field didn’t feel the same. “This isn’t necessary, just an idea I had. We can go somewhere else.”

  He doesn’t answer me, but we continue to walk and I try to keep an eye on him as much as I can. I can’t read his silence, but I know that whatever is going on inside his head, he’ll be able to work it out. I just wish I could do more than hold his hand and watch as he tries to ground himself to the present.

  “Thank you,” he says after a while, “for being with me. I’ll be right back.” He takes the flowers from me and walks away.

  I want to follow him, but I give him space. He’ll come back to me soon enough.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Harrison

  I place the flowers on top of my parents’ names. I wanted to pile all my grief into a ball and push it away. I didn’t think coming here would be this hard. All these years I’ve been avoiding the site like the plague. The magnitude of the despair I feel isn’t as big as it was when it happened, but I feel like I’m reliving every agonizing moment from that day. The hollowness in my chest increases and it feels like the skin of an old wound breaking open, reminding me of how it ached.

  It feels like the walls are closing in on me, the people are getting louder. I take small breaths of air, trying to keep myself together, and start replacing the painful memories from that day with the happy memories we made as a family. That’s how I’ve lived through every day since they left me, forcing myself to remember small things, like the chocolate chip cookies Mom baked, and how she only let us have one at a time and always after dinner.

  I remember all the blessed moments of our lives. I try to bring them up as often as necessary to remind myself that life can be good, that life was good for them, and they loved us. Every time I’m about to break, I picture my parents watching over me, and all my troubles seem smaller. I try to hold those memories now.

  Today, they can’t ward off my sorrow.

  The tears burst, spilling down my face.

  The muscle of my chin trembles. I feel like a child who has fallen from his bike for the first time and scraped his knee. In my case, there’s no mother to run to my side and kiss it to make it better. The walls that have held me together for so long, collapse with each tear that soaks my shirt. I can feel myself quivering with the horror I’ve ignored. I can hear the screams over the phone while my parents said goodbye, Mom’s sobs, Dad’s pleas.

  I remember the silence after they hung up, the darkness that fell when we lost them. I can feel that same darkness pulling me in again. I couldn’t bring them back to my brothers, to me. I couldn’t save them.

  “I’m with you,” Luna says quietly. “You have to come back to me, Harry. Don’t stay in the past. Please don’t leave me, baby.”

  I can feel her arms around me, and her warm light brings me back to the present. I sob as I cling onto Luna, grasping her tight.

  She doesn’t say a word, just holds me in silence, rocking with me as I continue releasing all the pain I’ve held onto since they left. Closing my eyes, I clearly remember Mom as she would read to us at night. The routine never changed. The last words she said while tucking us in were, “Love You Forever and Goodnight Moon.”

  I wipe my tears and press a kiss on top of Luna’s head.

  “Hmm?” Luna tilts her head. All of a sudden it hits me right in the center of my chest. This woman just saw me at my worst and lent me her strength.

  And I think she stole my heart in the process.

  “Those are my favorite books. Mom read them to the four of us every night. She probably never stopped. I think the last time I sat and listened to her was when I was sixteen. Her good night phrase was a combination of both books: I love you forever, I like you forever. No matter if I leave. And when I’m gone, you say good night to the moon, because that’s where I’ll always be watching over you.”

  Luna cups my face with one hand, smiling at me. “I like you forever,” she whispers, pulling me toward her and pressing her lips lightly onto mine.

  The words. The kiss. The moment when everything stops and it becomes just us. Finally us.

  No one else matters. The pain is gone, replaced by a calm that I had never experienced—not during my adult life. This moment feels intimate. Unique. I have the urge to leave because I don’t want to share what’s happening between us. Not that I know what’s happening yet.

  Luna doesn’t say a word until I’m calm and the feeling in my limbs comes back.

  “I’m ready to get the fuck out of here,” I whisper in her ear, hugging her tight one more time to absorb some strength.

  “Where do you want to go now?” she asks.

  “Far away from everything,” I mumble.

  “Fucking away from this place,” I say it a little louder, worried she can’t hear me. Then, I remember where I am and glace around with a wince, making sure there aren’t any families within earshot.

  “We should wash that mouth out with soap.” She grins at me, looking up to the sky. Then she stops, her eyes widening, and turns to me.

  “Harrison.” Damon marches toward me, his eyes guarded. “Can we talk for a minute?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Harrison

  Do I have a minute?

  No. I don’t have shit for him. I don’t want to speak to him, yet, I know we need closure. I crack my neck, square my shoulders, and nod. Might as well let the man release some of the shit he’s been holding on to.

  “I’ll be back,” I mutter, kissing Luna lightly. “If you see me do something stupid, please take me away.”

  She chews her lip, biting a smirk. “Just right now, or in general?”

  I kiss her again and tilt my head indicating to Damon that he has to follow me. Once we’re in an area away from the fountain and where there aren’t as many people, I stop.

  “Are you okay?” Damon asks.

  “Fine,” I narrow my gaze. “What do you need?”

  He tilts his head toward the memorial. “Back there…I’ve never seen you lose your shit like that.”

  I scrub my face with both hands, letting out a loud breath. “We haven’t seen each other in a long time. You wouldn’t know.”

  “Yes, but you never cried for your parents. You and Scott were trying to be strong for your younger brothers. I just wanted to…I’m so fucking sorry for what I did.” He drops his head, his hand massaging his temples. “If I could turn back time, everything would be different.”

  I feel bad for my friend, the guy who I shared so much with since we were
children. But the asshole who screwed my girlfriend doesn’t get anything from me. I have no idea what to do with this man. I don’t even know him.

  “Damon, nothing can change and nothing needs to. You have a family. It seems like you’re happy.” I glance at them and look at the girl who doesn’t look much like Ileana, yet somehow still looks familiar. “Your daughter, Josie, is she…yours?”

  He shoves his hands in his pockets and nods. “She’s mine, but not Ileana’s. The kids are mine. Their Mom died a few years back.”

  I bob my head a couple of times. “Well, I wish you nothing but happiness, Damon,” I tell him, looking back at Luna. She’s on the phone, shaking her head and moving her mouth too fast for me to follow what she’s saying.

  “It’s good to know you’re doing fine, Harrison.” Damon nods, not sure if he should shake my hand or hug me.

  I nod, still watching Luna. “Better than fine.”

  “She reminds me of your mom,” he says, smiling in her direction. “Full of life, happy. She makes everyone feel welcome. It’s hard to believe there can be people that happy when the world is so fucking dark.”

  I smile, patting his shoulder. “Luna is my light, Damon.”

  After leaving the memorial, we make our way to the penthouse where according to Luna, Jensen waits for us. He has our bags ready and he’s driving us to the airport. Hazel set everything up so we could join her and Scott in the Florida Keys. My mind is too preoccupied with everything that happened in the past few hours to argue about the plans. It’s so uncharacteristic of me to just go with the flow but I don’t have the emotional energy to disagree. I just want to get the fuck out of New York.

  Going through airport security doesn’t take long since Luna and I have special clearance. After we board the plane I ask Luna, “Are you sure it’s okay with them if we crash their conference?”

  “Hazel made the arrangements,” Luna reminds me, going through her purse.

  “But they said they had a conference?” I stare at Luna, who is too busy putting on all the clinky bracelets she wears to notice.

  “I’m glad you took them off before we went through security. It would’ve been a shit show—clearance or no clearance. I swear that’s the first thing I thought on the day we met.”

  She grabs one of the bracelets and threatens me with it. “Don’t upset me, Everhart, or I swear I’ll use this and it won’t be pretty.”

  “Are you going to beautify me with your accessories?”

  She pulls one of the chopsticks from her hair and holds it like a knife. “Shall I remind you how we met?”

  “You’re vicious, woman.” I push the button, calling the flight attendant.

  The flight attendant approaches us and asks, “How can I help you, sir?”

  “Can you bring some champagne for the lady, please?”

  “No, the lady will have water, the gentleman too,” she corrects me, smiling at the attendant yet giving me a nasty glare. Impressive, she can do both at the same time.

  “Bring us champagne and water, please.” The flight attendant nods and continues asking the rest of the passengers in first class what they’d like to drink.

  “Thank you for today. And for this trip.” I say, stretching my legs.

  She shrugs. “The trip is all Hazel. She prepped this after I called her.”

  “Mind if I ask why you called her?”

  Luna places her tote bag under her seat as she says, “I felt like I was losing you and I needed to know who they were.”

  “They?” I arch an eyebrow.

  “Your ex and the asshole.” Her fingers brush my knuckles. “Hazel’s words.”

  I cock an eyebrow and chuckle. Hazel would’ve pulled Ileana’s hair. She’s been wanting to do that since I told her about it. “I’m glad she wasn’t there, or she would’ve kicked their asses. But they had nothing to do with—” he pauses and shifts uncomfortably—“what happened. That was my first time visiting the memorial.”

  She frowns and shakes her head, as if not understanding my statement. “You live in New York City. How did you manage?”

  “Anything is possible if you try it. I’ve done it for years”—I pause, showing her two fingers and shrugging one shoulder—“Almost two decades.”

  “What did Damon say, when he asked if you could give him a second?”

  I scratch my forehead. Today was supposed to be different. My plans included sweet-talking the woman next to me into a wrestling match in my bed, where the only rules would’ve been no clothing and lots of mutual pleasure. None of that happened. However, I feel lighter and much different than I’ve felt in years.

  And closer to Luna. I’ve never been or felt so close to someone. I never thought someone would make me feel the way she does. She undoes me into pieces and pulls me together all at the same time. It’s as if we’re linked and she understands my innermost heart the way I can’t.

  “How much did Hazel tell you about them?”

  “She said, ‘The four-one-one is that the bitch was his ex-live-in girlfriend. The asshole was his best friend since pre-k, and they fucked Harrison, royally. I should ask you to kick her ass while Harrison kicks his. Call if you need more.’ Those were her exact words.” Luna grins and her voice was almost like Hazel’s.

  “Indeed, he was my best friend. He wanted absolution after what happened between us.”

  The flight attendant brings the water. Not the champagne. “I’ll have the glasses after we take off and we can roam around the cabin.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “Thank you,” Luna repeats, and after taking a couple of sips she looks at me. “Since we have a few hours to kill, can I have the longer version?”

  I let out a long breath before I start.

  I met Ileana at NYU during our freshman orientation. It wasn’t hard to lust after a leggy blonde girl who kissed with the same intensity she gave blow jobs. I had fooled around during high school but never went all the way with anyone until Ileana. I thought she was it. We spent a semester in Australia during junior year. When we came back, I had decided that she was the woman of my dreams. We made plans together. We would marry after graduation, travel during the summer for our honeymoon, I’d go back to work for my father, and we’d live in an apartment right in front of Central Park.

  But my trust fund wouldn’t become available until I turned twenty-two. I didn’t have enough money to pay for the ring she wanted.

  “That’s expensive, Harry, are you sure you want to buy it now?”

  “We want to get married, Dad,” I insisted, showing him the picture of the princess or queen or whatever cut she had chosen that was about four carats and mounted with billions of diamonds. I had no clue what I was buying, only that she had asked for it and I said yes after a round of mind-blowing sex.

  “I’m not sure she’s the right girl for you, son.” He patted my shoulder. “Or that you’re ready to take that step.”

  “She’s so much like Mom, how can you say that?” I protested, offended by his doubts.

  “Ileana is nothing like your mother, Harrison.” He served me with a severe look. There was a storm brewing in those eyes. “And the fact that you think they are similar in any way only solidifies my theory. You’re not ready, and she might not be the one for you.”

  I run both my hands through my hair, desperate. He didn’t understand. Ileana was it for me. Yet, I asked, “Then how do you know when the right woman comes into your life?”

  “It’s about the flaws, the heat, and the magic,” he said. “You fall in love with her flaws. The heat between the two of you is palpable even when she’s miles away from you. That’s when you find your forever.”

  For a couple of weeks, I tried to think about what he said, but then he died, and Ileana was there for me. She helped me get through the funeral and Hunter’s anxiety, him developing agoraphobia, my extended family fighting to get custody of Fitz and Hunter in order to gain access to my parents’ money. Scott and I fought tooth and
nail against them, and Ileana lent me an ear. She was there for me at night when I was tired of battling the judges and my money-hungry relatives.

  When I enlisted, she wasn’t thrilled, but she suggested we get an apartment. A step toward our future life together. I rented an apartment for us, purchased the furniture, and moved a few things in with her. Ileana was the perfect girlfriend during deployments. She always sent me care packages and letters and our short conversations were sweet. She missed me, and she couldn’t wait until the war was over.

  Marriage became a permanent subject in every conversation we had. She added it to her letters and even sent bridal magazines a few times. I told her it had to wait. I convinced myself that once I stopped serving, I’d marry her. But that’s not what happened.

  Scott called me one day. Hunter’s panic attacks were escalating, and the doctor had suggested new drugs. “We might have to institutionalize him. But I don’t want to, Harrison.” Scott’s pleading voice broke my heart.

  I asked for a week off, and my superiors understood the gravity of the situation. My first stop was home. Hunter hugged me as he had never done before. He thought I had died. There had been a picture of a soldier in the news who looked like me, and he’d lost his shit. It was so bad he couldn’t even talk. I planned on staying home for that week as Scott, Hunt’s therapist, and I decided what the best options were for his treatment.

  Instead of telling Ileana that I was home, I decided to surprise her.

  When I opened the door, she was on top of the coffee table on all fours taking it in the ass. The dick belonged to one of my best friends.

  I stared at them, mouth wide open, stomach roiling with nausea, stress, embarrassment. I already had so much on my plate and now this? I had never been so angry. They didn’t even notice that I stood in front of them.

  “Get out of my fucking house,” I barked.

  They froze and turned to look at me with eyes wide open.