Something Like This (Secrets) (26 page)

I chased after him. “Don’t go, please. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Go back to work. I’m sure my uncle’s wondering where you are.”

“Can we talk about this?” I was sobbing.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m going to see my mom.”

“What about us?”

He opened his car door. “There is no us.”

I took hold of his arm. “Let me come with you.”

“We’re over,” he said, pushing my hand away.

I was defeated. I had to relent. Reece no longer loved me. I had found a way to kill our love. Is this what I had wanted all along? Was I still so messed up I had purposely kept this from Reece so he would break up with me? So I could go back to my zombie existence? I was pathetic, after all. I was an imposter in a human body. I was no one. And no matter how hard I tried to succeed, to prove to the whole damn world I had what it took, I had courage, I had drive, in the end, I just couldn’t escape my past. It came up from the earth’s core, knocked my legs out from under me and dragged me down to where I belonged. Down with everyone else who had failed at life.

I stood on the sidewalk and watched Reece drive away. That was it. We were over. Everything was over. I had lost my mother. My father. And now I had lost the only person with whom I have ever felt truly safe.

Crushed, I entered my building and pushed the up elevator button. I knew my eyes were red and that anyone who saw me would know I had been crying. I didn’t care. All I had left was my job. Despite wanting to run away to the cathedral, I stepped into the elevator.

I would go about my day as if Reece had never existed. As if he had been a dream. That was the only way I was going to be able to cope. I had to pretend it had all been a dream, a beautifully messed-up dream which had zero hope for a happy ending, a dream which turned into a nightmare.

I slouched into my chair and turned on my computer.

A minute later Mr. Walker came out of his office.

“There you are. I was getting worried. It’s nearly ten.”

I didn’t bother to look at him.

“You okay?” he asked.

I kept my eyes on my computer screen. I wasn’t okay. And at that moment, I also wasn’t okay with Mr. Walker. I blamed him. He should have told Reece. Instead, he left me to do the dirty work.

“Jadie, look at me.”

I raised my eyes to him.

“You’ve been crying. Why?”

“I told Reece.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“How did he take it?”

“Not good. He hates me. He broke up with me. He hates me because I kept it from him.”

“Why did you tell him?”

“Because he deserved to know. You should have told him.”

“I couldn’t. I’m a coward. ”

“Is that why you told me? Because you knew I’d tell him?”

He lowered his head. “Yes.”

“That’s pretty messed up.”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell him. But he had to know. I knew you would tell him.”

“You told me he was going to need me when he found out. Turns out, he doesn’t.”

“He’s hurting. Give him time. He loves you. I know he does.”

“Mr. Walker?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Right now, all I want to do is focus on my job.”

“Okay, well, you do that. You focus,” he said.

When he was gone, I put my elbows on my desk and buried my face in my hands. And then I cried.

Thirty minutes later, Vicki and Rose appeared in front of my desk.

“Are you okay?” Rose asked.

“We saw you crying earlier. We thought maybe Mr. Walker had fired you,” Vicki said.

“Is that what you were both hoping for?” I asked.

They looked at each other.

“We’re not jerks,” Rose said.

Vicki tucked her hair behind her ear. “We’re just competitive.
Really
competitive.”

“So, you’re not fired?” Rose asked.

“Not yet.”

Rose smiled. “Good.”

“Why is that good? You don’t like me and you think I hiked up my skirt to get here.”

Vicki tapped her fingers on my desk. “You keep us on our toes. We
are
really competitive. But, that doesn’t mean we want you to get fired. And as far as your skirt is concerned, well, whether you did, or you didn’t is your own business.”

I rubbed my eyes. “I didn’t.”

“I once did,” Rose said.

Vicki looked at her as if she was surprised. “You didn’t?”

“I did. Years ago,” Rose said.

“I’m not doing a very good job lately. So, don’t look to me to keep you on your toes,” I interrupted. I didn’t want this conversation to turn into a sex confession circus.

“That’s okay. Sometimes we don’t do a very good job either. Crap comes and goes, but talent is stable,” Rose said.

“You think I have talent?” I asked.

Rose licked her lips. “Maybe, maybe not. You’re here and that’s something.”

“We still need to have lunch so we can get to know you better and figure out your weaknesses, and then use them against you.”

“Is that how it works?” I asked.

I couldn’t tell if she was kidding. I didn’t think she was.

“It’s the only way it works,” Rose said.

“In that case, lunch isn’t likely to happen any time soon,” I said.

“We’re patient,” Vicki said.

“Very,” Rose said.

––––––––

A
fter leaving work, I went to the cathedral and lit a candle. And afterwards, I walked straight to Elliott’s bar.

He immediately saw me and waved me over. “I was wondering if I was ever going to see you again.”

Jumping onto a bar stool, I cleared my throat and said, “Yeah, things were going well for a while.”

“And now?”

I interlocked my fingers and placed my elbows on the counter. “They’re messed up again. Pretty fucked up, actually.”

“Which is why you’re here?”

“Yes.”

He set down a napkin in front of me. “What can I get you?”

I sat up straight and looked him right in the eyes. “A tequila shot.”

“That messed up, huh?”

“And then some.”

“Mind if I join you?” a woman asked.

I turned to find Lula smiling at me. Dressed in a curve-hugging white dress, her hair pinned up in a braided bun, lips iced in purple lipstick.

“Two tequila shots coming right up,” Elliott said.

“How’s your life going?” I asked Lula.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” she asked, sitting next to me.

“Are you here every day?”

She reached into her purse and took out some tissues. “Right around lunch time, and then again after work.

Here she was in her forties, still dealing with shit. I guessed once messed up, always messed up. She couldn’t escape and neither could I.

“So, boyfriend trouble?” She blew her nose.

I sighed and then sighed again, and then, yet again.

“Sounds serious,” she said.

“His mom has cancer. I knew about it for a week and didn’t tell him until today.”

“Shit, that’s serious as all fuck.”

Elliott placed two shot glasses down in front of us.

I picked up mine. Lula picked up hers.

“Bottoms up,” Elliot said.

She swallowed hers. I swallowed mine.

“Another one,” I said to Elliott.

“You got it.”

“For me, too,” Lula said.

We each downed a second shot of tequila.

My head started immediately spinning.

“So, what did he do when you told him?” Lula asked.

“He broke up with me.”

“Damn,” she said.

“I deserved it.”

“I don’t think you did.”

“I should have told him sooner.”

“Do you love him?”

I didn’t hesitate to answer. “A lot. A whole lot.”

“That’s why you didn’t tell him. Giving shitty news to someone you don’t care about is hard. Who likes giving people bad news? Only assholes take joy in that. Giving shitty news to someone you love? Now that is
seriously
hard. People avoid it, and not because they’re jerks, but because they don’t want to be the one to cause a loved one pain.”

“He didn’t see it that way.”

“Why would he? You told him his mom has cancer. I’d hate you, too, if you told me something like that, and I don’t even really know you.”

“He needs time,” Elliott chimed in.

“If he loves you, he’ll come back to you,” Lula said.

“What if he doesn’t?” I asked.

“Then it was never really love,” she said.

“I miss him.”

“Give him space,” Elliott said.

“I’m a hopeless romantic, which pretty much means I’m always getting my heart broken. If I were you, I would have called and texted him a million times by now. Hell, I’d probably be banging on his door right now,” Lula said.

“Is that what you think I should do?”

“Hell no. Elliott’s right. Give him time. Don’t do what I would do. Don’t go making it worse.”

“How much time?”

“I’ve never given anyone time. So, I wouldn’t know. How about we figure it out over a couple of cheeseburgers? My treat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You downed two shots. You’re going to need something in your stomach to soak up the tequila.”

I scratched my eyes. She was right. If I didn’t eat, I’d probably end up passing out.

Sighing, I asked, “With a side of fries?”

“Atta girl.”

“Two burgers, and a couple of fries coming right up,” Elliott said.

“Love sucks,” I said to Lula.

“It’s the worst.”

“Then why do we fall for it?” I asked.

“Because we need it.”

“What if he doesn’t love me anymore?”

“You’ll find someone else.”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Yeah, well, neither did I,” she said.

“How many times have you been in love?” I asked.

“Too many times.”

“And you haven’t given up?”

“I’m never going to give up, and neither should you.”

“I miss him.”

“I’m sure he misses you, too.”

“I really want to call him.”

“Eat first, and then decide,” she said.

I sat there with Lula and Elliot, two people I barely knew. I sat there heartbroken, thinking about how much I already missed Reece.

When I got home two hours later, I was glad Lisa and Grace weren’t home. I went straight to my room and fell into my bed.

All right, demons, come on out, let’s dance. You were right. I was an idiot to think I could ever be happy, I could ever lead a normal life. So come on, don’t hide in the shadows anymore. I’m here. I’m yours again.

––––––––

A
week and a half passed, and Reece and I had not seen or spoken to each other. I hadn’t called or texted him. I was giving him space, just as Elliott had suggested. I wanted to run to his apartment and beg him to forgive me. I wanted to call him, text him, stalk him, but I didn’t do any of those things. Instead, I returned to my zombie life, once again an imposter walking the streets as if I belonged, as if I had earned my place in the world.

I focused on work, desperately trying to find a gem, the one manuscript which could save the All Write Literary Agency. But no matter how deep I dug, the jewel I was looking for did not want to be found.

My father’s spirit was always there, circling me, whispering in my ear, never letting me forget his scarred and broken face. He made me visit the place underneath the train tracks, every day after work. I stood against the wall, staring at people as they past me, and I cried. Every day I cried for my father. I missed him. I needed him.

And as I fell asleep each night, I thought about Reece. I thought about how close I had been to eternal happiness, how close I had been to finding peace.

And every day at noon, I listened to the cathedral’s chiming bells, lit a candle, and walked to Elliott’s bar to have one drink with Lula.

And I didn’t call Aunt Conchita because I was too ashamed, too embarrassed of what I had become.

That was my new life. Lisa and Grace did their best to snap me out of the darkness that was slowly taking hold of me again. But I refused their help. Instead I ignored their smiles and kind words and retreated to my room to find solace with my demons.

A few more days went by and still no word from Reece. I was once again tempted to call or text him, but I was too afraid that he would reject me, that he would tell me he didn’t love me anymore, that he hated me. My heart hurt for him. I wondered how his mom was doing. I prayed she was okay.

On my way home from work one evening, I passed a paint store. I had walked past it every day since I had started working for Mr. Walker, but I had never taken even the slightest second to really notice it.

That day was different. Something made me turn back and enter the store. Something made me buy a gallon of purple paint.

I carried that gallon all the way home, all the way up the stairs of my apartment building and despite its heaviness, I only put it down once or twice. When I set it down on my bedroom floor, my arms screamed in pain but I ignored them.

I had found a distraction. I was finally going to paint my room purple like I had wanted when I was sixteen.

***

I
was standing in my room staring at a can of paint, thinking about how I would need to buy a brush, a paint roller, floor coverings, and paint tape, when I heard his voice.

“Jadie.” It was Reece.

I looked at my closed bedroom door and didn’t say a word. I wasn’t sure I had really heard his voice. I was missing him so much that it was quite possible I was daydreaming.

“It’s Reece. Can we talk?”

I kept my eyes on the door. I couldn’t bring myself to believe it was really him. He hadn’t called or texted me in almost two weeks.

“Reece?” I said.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

I swallowed and cleared my throat and swallowed again. “How’s your mom?” I had to know.

“She’s doing okay.”

I felt relief. “That’s good. I’m so glad.”

“Can I come in?”

My lips quivering, I said, “Why?”

“Because I want to talk to you. I want to see you.”

I glanced at the can of paint. “Now’s not a good time.”