Truth Be Told

by Marie James

  “Shh,” I whisper when Alex’s breathing hitches.

  I’ve never witnessed someone die before, never seen the moment someone took their very final breath, but it’s nothing like I expected. There is no shuddering breath nor one final gasp indicating she’s trying to hold on just a little longer. Her breathing just stops, there one minute and gone the next, her body seeming to melt into the bed, relaxed and finally at peace.

  “Sh-She’s g-gone?” Alex asks, his hand holding hers tighter.

  “Yeah, buddy,” I answer, knowing that my world just got a little smaller.

  Alex swallows, his eyes still glued to her face, and I’m torn on what to do. I hate his final memories of her are going to be watching the remaining color drain from her face, that he’s watched her slowly wither away from the vibrant active woman she was into someone most people wouldn’t recognize if they hadn’t seen her in the last couple of years while cancer, chemo, and radiation took its toll on her body.

  He deserves more. I deserve more.

  Life keeps kicking us in the gut, too often to even get fully on our feet before the next blow comes. When will it be over? When will we be able to finally take a breath without the worry of the world imploding? Probably never, and that’s the soul-crushing reality of the life we have.

  “You think? I don’t give a fuck what you think! I want you out of the goddamn house!”

  My head snaps toward my mother’s closed bedroom door.

  Is he serious? Of all the times my brother decides to show up, he picks now, this very moment to storm in and try to take over.

  “Why don’t you spend a few minutes with her?” I say as I press my lips to Alex’s forehead.

  He looks nervous, his eyes darting to my mother’s hand in his to the bedroom door.

  “Does that make you uncomfortable? To stay in here with her?” He shakes his head. “Everything will be okay.”

  I stand, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, completely unsure if it’s a lie.

  I slip out of the room, tears still tracking down my face and find my brother and Ignacio practically nose to nose and ready to throw down. Minutes after my mother took her last breath, these two assholes are going to come to blows in the middle of the family room? Today is not the fucking day.

  “Cooper?” I say, my voice coming out weak and needy.

  I’ve never gotten along with him. He’s six years older and has always been self-centered. Cooper worries about number one and that’s it. Everyone owes him something, and he has the ability to snap in a flash if he doesn’t get what he wants.

  My brother spins around, and for a split second I pray he’ll have a personality transplant. I want comfort and reassurance. I want him to be the big brother I always wanted, but it’s clear from the scowl on his sunken face that this particular prayer won’t be answered, the same way the ones I had for Mom weren’t. It seems God is busy with other things today.

  “Is she dead?” Cold. That’s the only way to describe his tone, as if an enemy has fallen instead of his own flesh and blood.

  Most people would have more compassion for someone they don’t even know than what he’s showing right now. He acted the same way to the news of Dad’s passing, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

  I can only nod, movement catching my eye.

  Ignacio steps around my brother and makes his way closer to me, and just the sight of him draws a gasping breath from my mouth, but I can’t do this right now. I can’t let him touch me or hug me or try to comfort me. I’d lose it. The sympathy and sorrow on his handsome face is too much as it is.

  “Don’t,” I manage when he opens his arms for me, and the pain in his eyes when he drops his arms chisels away another little piece of me. At the rate I’m going, I won’t have anything left.

  “You fucked my friend?” Cooper snaps as if now is the time to have the conversation about something that happened over a decade ago, while his mother’s body is in the other room.

  “Enough,” Ignacio snaps.

  Like a dragon slayer, he seems to grow in size as he spins to face my brother. Cooper’s eyes snap to him and I expect an all-out brawl, but there must be something on Ignacio’s face I can’t see because my brother takes a step back before looking over at me again.

  “I need to call the hospice,” I mutter.

  The guys stand in the middle of the room in a stare-off I’m sure will end up with another phone call, this one to the police from the way they’re both acting as I make the numerous calls required.

  “They’re going to be here soon, Coop. If you wanted to see her.”

  My brother’s eyes dart toward my mother’s bedroom, but he doesn’t make a move to go that direction. He can’t seem to let go of enough anger to step away from Ignacio.

  “Fuck this,” he hisses before looking in my direction. “If she’s dead, then half the house is mine. I’m selling this piece of shit.”

  And with that bomb, he walks out of the house, the slamming of the door behind him like a secondary explosion in my world that’s already looking like a war zone.

  I can’t speak to Ignacio, and thankfully he must understand that as he steps aside when I head back to the room. Instead of letting me walk past, he runs his fingers down my forearm, clasping our pinky fingers for a second before taking a step back.

  Long ago it was a promise. It said I love you, I’ll never leave you, you’re it for me.

  Everything is going to be okay.

  But today, it’s just another hit I have to take, another blow threatening to knock me down.

  Because he doesn’t love me.

  He did leave me.

  He moved on.

  And everything is definitely not going to be okay.

  I’m numb by the time the funeral home shows up, at that point in a terrible day where exhaustion is beginning to set in, and everything has an unrealistic haze around it.

  But somehow the tears are renewed when the funeral home workers explain that the hallway to my mother’s room is too narrow to get the gurney to her.

  I keep Alex in my bedroom to prevent him from seeing the indignity of Mom having to be lifted from her bed and carried out of her room. We stay until they’re gone, Ignacio taking care of whatever questions they may have. I didn’t want to see her face shrouded and hidden. It’s not a memory I can live with. If she’d been allowed to stay in the hospital, all of this could’ve been avoided. It could’ve been easier. I don’t know what it’s like to lose someone in that type of setting, but witnessing it at home is brutal. That room will now always carry that final image of her.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask Alex, his body cuddled to mine on my bed.

  He shakes his head, and I know he’s utterly drained as well.

  And because life likes to keep cutting away pieces of me, I hear a growl from the living room before a knock hits my bedroom door. It swings open before I can call out.

  Ignacio’s face appears in the crack.

  “Why don’t you guys pack an overnight bag.”

  “What’s going on?” Alex says, his body suddenly tense.

  “I umm—” His eyes dart to mine, and I see the need to protect his son as best he can as if the instinct is innate because he hasn’t been around since the beginning. “Your uncle is going to stay here tonight. He’s not feeling well, and I just think it’s best that we give him a little space.”

  Translation—Cooper is drunk or high, and as always he’s belligerent and it’s not safe to be here with him.

  “I think that’s a great idea,” I say, leaning up and urging Alex to stand. “A little time out of the house would be good for both of us.”

  “I’m not a baby,” Alex hisses, his eyes darting between his dad and me. “You can say my asshole uncle is being an asshole and will continue to be an asshole if we stay.”

  Well then.

  “Watch your mouth,” I say but there’s no fire in my tone. I look up at Ignacio. “Stay with him while he packs.”

&nbs
p; He nods, following Alex out of the room. I shove different things into an overnight bag, not really paying attention to what goes inside. I’m too nervous that we won’t make it out of the house before Cooper decides he has something to say.

  It takes mere minutes before we’re walking out of the house, and I don’t even bother to look in my brother’s direction when I pass. Thankfully, his attention is on something in the kitchen. I get into my car, Alex already buckled in and ready to go and the damn thing won’t start.

  A sob, one I didn’t know I had left in me escapes, my body wracked with tremors and exhaustion. I just sit there and fucking cry.

  Chapter 19

  Ignacio

  She didn’t want me to touch her earlier, and I let it slide, but seeing her lose her shit because her piece of shit car won’t start is the final straw.

  I tug open her door and crouch low so we’re on the same level. It’s as if she doesn’t even notice when I cup her cheek, angling her face so I’m in her line of sight.

  “Tin,” I whisper, hoping the sobs will slow so she can hear me. They don’t and I look over at Alex. “Hey, buddy. Can you grab yours and your mother’s bags and toss them in my truck?”

  He nods, his face crestfallen at the sight of his strong mother finally breaking.

  “Sweetheart,” I whisper again, trying to get her attention. “Look at me.”

  She doesn’t. Her eyes are glazed, and it’s clear she’s on the brink of breaking down even further. I grab her keys from the ignition and scoop her up into my arms. She doesn’t cuddle into me like I hoped she would, but she also doesn’t struggle to get away. I count that as a win as I carry her to my truck and position her in the passenger seat.

  “Seatbelt,” I tell Alex as he watches from the extended cab seat.

  He nods, working to get his clipped in as I do the same for his mother. Her sobs have quieted, but the tears seem to have doubled. If Cooper wasn’t in the house drunk off his unstable ass, I’d take a few minutes to make sure she’s truly okay, but their safety is the most important thing right now.

  When we hit the highway, I drive north, putting the shitty neighborhood in the rearview.

  “We aren’t going to your house?” Alex asks from the back seat ten minutes into the drive.

  “No,” I answer, simply because I can’t tell him that the house I’ve been staying in isn’t suitable for the two of them. They deserve the world, and I don’t want my son to experience a single night in the same house that holds so much trauma from my own childhood.

  Tinley is quiet the entire drive, only showing some signs of awareness when I pull up outside of a nice hotel.

  “Maybe,” she begins, swallowing and looks to the side as if she’s trying to evaluate what she’s going to say in front of Alex. “Maybe a different hotel?”

  She doesn’t have the money to stay here, and it’s apparent she doesn’t understand that I wouldn’t let her pay even if she did.

  “This one is perfect. Alex can you grab the bags?”

  My son has the handles to both bags clutched in his hand by the time I get out and come around to Tinley’s side of the truck. She’s apprehensive to climb out but follows me inside anyway.

  “Let me get the room,” I tell them.

  They wait to the side while I make arrangements and follow me to the elevator when I’m done. Alex’s eyes are wide the second we step into the two-room suite. I imagine he’s never been inside a hotel this nice, and that makes my heart clench a little for him. It’s not the nicest hotel, just the closest one that I know that is decent enough. He—both of them—should be able to experience things as simple as a nice hotel, and it’s another kick to the balls that they’ve been denied those simple pleasures for so long.

  “Alex, you don’t mind taking the smaller room do you?”

  A wide smile spreads across his face when we all move from the living area to the room in question. “Smaller? This room is huge.”

  The packed bags are dropped on the bed as he makes his way to the attached bathroom.

  “Tinley?” I touch her arm to get her attention. “The other one is yours.”

  She follows me on reluctant feet, leaving her bag behind.

  “Where will you sleep?”

  I choke back a smile because I had no intention of invading this space. I wanted them to be safe, but never expected to be invited.

  “On the couch,” I offer because if she wants me here, I’m not going to plant the seed that I was planning to go back home.

  “You should have the second room.”

  “The couch is fine, Tin.”

  God, if she offers to share with me, I don’t know if I’ll be able to hide my enthusiasm.

  “I want to stay close to Alex,” she says instead. “I’ll share with him.”

  “The TV has a million channels,” Alex calls from the living room. “Mom, look! They even have that Lifetime channel you love!”

  I know from spending time at Tinley’s house that they don’t have cable, and she balked when I offered to order it for them. Owing on what she would consider favors isn’t something she’s ever been keen on, and I fully understand since that sense of dependence is something I’ve struggled with as well. It’s just one of those things that comes along with having a hard life.

  “Alex, why don’t you find something to watch.” I give him a look that I hope reads as not a baseball game, and it earns a nod. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m starving and thinking of ordering room service.”

  “Do they have steak?” Alex’s grin grows even wider at the prospect of having food delivered to the room. I’ve found over the last couple of weeks that the boy can put away some food, and he may not want to get gifts, but food is something he’s always willing to order a lot of.

  “I bet they do. The menu is right on the table. Take a look at it.”

  I focus my attention on Tinley who is standing to the side looking uneasy about all of this.

  “Tin? Do you want a steak?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “A salad or pasta?” I know she hasn’t eaten all day. She may not want to eat but she’s going to need to.

  “Not hungry,” she repeats, a little of her fire coming back in her tone.

  I’ll take an agitated Tinley over the zombie-like one I’ve been a witness to over the last half hour.

  “I’ll order the entire menu if you don’t decide,” I threaten, a smile forming on my lips when she glares at me.

  “Pasta is fine,” she snaps.

  Dinner is uneventful, most of it spent in quiet reflection as a comedy plays on the television. Alex, of course devours his meal while Tinley pokes around at hers.

  I know she has a lot on her mind. Her mother just died, and on top of that she has to deal with her piece of shit brother. His threats of selling the house is just another problem she’s forced to consider.

  I regret every second I spent with Cooper as a teen. The guy I thought was a legend because he just didn’t give a fuck about anyone else but himself has stayed a real asshole, never growing up and taking any form of responsibility. I honestly think him not even showing up at all despite it being his mother would’ve been best for everyone. The man really knows how to leave a shitstorm in his wake.

  One movie rolls into the next, and it’s after ten when I look over to find Tinley’s eyes drooping and Alex sound asleep on the sofa.

  “You should get some sleep.”

  Lazily her eyes drift toward me, a little hint of shock in her blue gaze as if she’s just realizing she isn’t alone.

  “I can carry him to the bed.”

  She looks over at Alex. His head is leaned back, mouth parted as he breathes softly in his sleep.

  “He’s too young to have to deal with so much,” she mutters. “What is this going to do to him?”

  God, I wish I had foresight.

  “We just have to make sure he’s safe, and that we’re available to him when he needs to talk. He’s g
oing to struggle, but you raised an amazing young man. I promise he’s going to be okay.”

  She gives me a weak smile, but it doesn’t meet her eyes. She’s completely worn down, not only from today but everything leading up to losing her mother.

  “Bed,” I remind her as I stand.

  Alex is heavier than he looks, but I feel overjoyed getting to carry his sleeping form to bed for the first time, suddenly sad that I’ve missed so many other opportunities.

  “Which side do you sleep on?” I ask as we enter. She’s not home in her own bed, but I want her as comfortable as possible.

  “The right.”

  As gently as I can, I lower Alex to the left side after she pulls back the covers. I slip his shoes off before she covers him back up.

  “Try to get some sleep. I’m here if you need me.”

  I press a soft kiss to her forehead, keeping my clenched hands at my sides so I don’t overwhelm her when all I want to do is pull her to my chest and make all the promises we spoke in the darkness thirteen years ago come true.

  Closing the bedroom door softly behind me, I make my way out of the room and head down to my truck. Working for Deacon, I discovered the need to always have a go-bag and I’m grateful to have the bare necessities right now considering I didn’t stop by my house.

  When I make it back up and into the bathroom of my own room, that gratefulness wanes a little because the clothes packed inside carry the musty unused smell from having been packed for weeks and weeks, but it’ll have to do. A quick shower later, I tug on briefs, a t-shirt and pull jeans back on because I want to check on them one last time before lying down. The risk that she’s still awake only to see me in my underwear isn’t another thing I want her to have to deal with.

  What I hope to find—both of them sleeping—isn’t what I encounter when I press my ear to their bedroom door.

  I’m met with quiet sobs, breaking my heart just a little more that I can’t fix all of this for her.

  Chapter 20

  Tinley

  “Come here.” I jolt at the voice, fear that maybe Cooper found us filling my body, but I look over to see Ignacio standing in the open doorway to the room.