by Kat T. Masen
My heart is heavy at the thought.
Someone was watching over us.
“She said the baby was coming, but I could see she was blacking out, so I kept talking to her to keep her conscious, and then she pushed, and the baby came out.”
The lady gives me a sympathetic smile. “You did well. Most people would panic in this situation. The best thing you could’ve done was keep her conscious.”
The paramedic cuts the umbilical cord, and, with caution, they lift Charlie onto the stretcher. She cries for her baby, begging to take it with her. The paramedics explain to her that they need to get to the hospital and make sure both she and the baby are fine. They need to be under observation for the next forty-eight hours.
I watch Lex, distraught as he clutches for Charlie’s hand and reassures her everything is going to be fine.
And this moment becomes the hardest part, the moment my heart bleeds again, the moment I’m tortured by my inability to control my emotions, to find any part of me worth the air I am breathing.
The weak smile on my face, a mask I wear, pretending everything will be okay.
She’ll be okay with her family.
I’ll be okay on my own.
They are walking up the hill, but Lex turns to face me. I wait for his questions.
There are no words, just a look of anguish before he turns back around and climbs into the ambulance with Charlie.
I watch them drive away, and on the side of the road, in the dark night, my tears fall, and I drop to my knees.
It’s officially over.
I have no idea how I made it home.
I’m paralyzed with a numbing feeling, one acting like a shield erasing tonight’s events, tonight’s nightmare. The fear and terror of watching Charlie almost die in front of my eyes is replaying in my head, then that confusing thought of what if I didn’t go to see her? Did this wrong move make it right? Screw the fate bullshit, someone was watching over Charlie. She had angels swarming over her like paparazzi, and so it should be. If anyone deserves to stay on this earth, it’s Charlie.
Me, I’m scum in the lowest form. I don’t deserve anything, especially Charlie.
As I turn the key to my apartment, I hear voices. I don’t need this, not now. All I want to do is head straight to the shower and then to bed, leaving Tristan to his own devices.
Walking through the apartment, I see Tristan sitting on the couch with a familiar blonde. They are laughing and enjoying pizza and beer. He sees me, and his expression changes. Concern, pity—yeah, I’m worthless. Kill me now.
“You look like shit, but hey, meet Claudia.” Tristan introduces the familiar-looking blonde with very big tits.
Very, very big tits. No fucking way!
She looks at me, puzzled, then it clicks. “Julian?”
I muster up the tiniest of smiles, and I mean it’s not even a smile, more like a this-is-awkward glare. I really don’t need this shit right now.
“How do you know each other?” Tristan asks suspiciously.
I have no excuse, I’m too exhausted even to comprehend my actions. “Uh… we met at a bar. Listen, nice seeing you again. I’m beat, see you in the morning, Tristan.”
I don’t even wait for a reaction before I head to the shower where I stand there stagnant, no emotion, nothing but emptiness, trying so hard to wash it all away. I sit down on the tiles, back against the wall, letting the water fall against my skin. The tears are solid, becoming deep sobs causing my chest to ache in a way I have never felt before. I open my eyes enough to see my skin wrinkly from so much time spent under the water.
Making my way out, I wrap a towel around me, ready to head to bed. Sleep—my only salvation.
Opening the bathroom door, I see Tristan standing in the middle of the hallway with his bag. His fallen face turns to disgust as he sees me exit.
I really don’t need this.
“I’m fairly certain I know how you know Claudia, and you’re a fucking jerk. You knew she was my girlfriend.”
“Listen, kid, I had no idea—”
“Bullshit! It’s like you have no fucking idea how to deal with your own mess of a life, so you have to ruin it for others.”
I’m looking for sympathy, trying to keep my voice down. “Look, I’ve had a terrible night—”
“What? You get busted for stalking your ex?”
Silence.
“I don’t need this.” I turn my back.
“Maybe you do need this. You’re wasting your life. What the hell happened to you, huh? I used to look up to you and just look at you. You’re just a huge fucking disappointment. Why the fuck are you so jaded?”
“I don’t need to answer to anyone.”
“Yeah, well, neither do I.” Tristan picks up his bag.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I sound parental. This isn’t what I signed up for.
“I’m staying with Eric. You need to sort yourself out, Julian. There’s only one road you’re heading down, and I’m telling you, it’s a dead end.” He stops by the kitchen counter and throws me an envelope. “And here, an eviction notice.” He slams the door behind him.
I am officially alone.
After tonight’s events, there’s nothing I want to do more than climb into a hole and rot away, but instead, I head to my medicine cabinet and find my sleeping pills.
Sleeping pills or call my dealer.
For tonight, the pills win, but for how much longer?
Frankly, I have no idea.
***
The room is dark, the light fighting its way in.
The urge, the craving, it devours me.
Alone, I hear the gentle tap on my door, gentle, yet it startles me.
I jump anxiously. It’s the monster who lurks under my bed, but he’s on the other side of the door.
Like a frightened child, I open it and succumb to the power he holds over me.
He opens his hand, and I see the light illuminating the dark walls. My senses, there’s a frenzy within me, taunting and teasing me, and the more it consumes me, I feel myself weaken.
I hand over the last of my money—my rent money.
And like a thief in the night, he disappears.
And I’m alone again with the devil laced in white.
It’s all I have now.
No Chelsea.
No Charlie.
And I need to survive, don’t I?
I’m like venom. I hurt those around me, including myself.
I walk to the table and lay the white lace carefully in a line. I know the drill. I think about it every second of every day.
I lean down, inches away from euphoria sweeping over me. But I feel a touch, a brush of a hand over my shoulder. I’m hallucinating, I know I’m alone. I bend down again, and the feeling repeats.
I don’t look behind me. Instead, I close my eyes allowing my senses to focus.
There’s a cool breeze in the room, but the windows are shut.
“In the darkness, our savior will find us. It will drive us into the light.”
The voices, I hear them.
“In our weakness of times, find the strength, it lurks behind the shadows, but it’s watching, it is waiting to be asked for help.”
I have officially gone crazy.
“Those who live in the light only know the truth to living in the darkness. I am here, I’m watching over you, I am guiding you. Be still, hear my words. The fallen will continue to fall without a savior amongst them.”
I listen, and the voices disappear.
My chest is heavy.
Chelsea’s voice, without a shadow of a doubt, is echoing in my ear.
I grab the white lace in my hand and walk over to the kitchen, emptying the contents in the sink and scrubbing my hands with scolding hot water until they are red and raw.
But the pain is nothing compared to what my heart feels.
And with that, I sink to the floor with the tears swallowing me whole, the sobs achingly loud, and I scream her n
ame just like I did on the night of the fire.
The wood panels of the door become a big blur as I stay stagnant, gathering my thoughts.
What am I going to say? And why the hell do I need to say anything? Because he’s your nephew, and you’re the biggest douche for hurting your family.
I decide not to call ahead in case he won’t talk to me. I wouldn’t talk to me right now. My finger gently presses the buzzer, and the sounds of ‘La Cucaracha’ echo in the background.
Only Eric would have a doorbell like that.
Relief washes over me when Eric is the one to open the door. I don’t, however, appreciate his sympathetic gaze. Sure, I look like roadkill, and there’s a chance I smell like it, too. If anyone is going to give me grief about my appearance, it will be Eric.
“Hey, Batman,” Eric greets with a small smile. “I’ll just grab him.”
Eric walks away, and I stand uncomfortably in the living room taking in my surroundings. Eric, being Eric, definitely knows what style means. His apartment is decorated like a photoshoot from a Martha Stewart book. I actually see a picture of Martha Stewart in a frame against a back wall. I want to laugh, but it doesn’t quite connect with my face.
There’s a white leather sofa smothered with a million pillows perfectly positioned—different colors, textures, and oriental patterns. Looking around, I notice more oriental pieces. He’s true to his heritage, even a Buddha is sitting on a floating shelf. There are other ornaments surrounding it and a line of books sitting between bookends. On closer inspection, the bookends are of two male statues doing it doggy-style. Where on earth does he find this shit?
There’s a creak in the room. I turn around to see Tristan, who’s avoiding eye contact with me. I couldn’t feel any smaller right now. What kind of a fucking role model am I?
“Hey, mate.” Jesus, the nerves are coming out.
He remains quiet, then clears his throat. “Channeling your inner Aussie?”
“I’m trying here. Look, I had no idea. I’d never intentionally sleep with someone you were seeing,” I confess.
“I’m not pissed. Well, I was pissed. You can have her.”
“Tristan, it was a one-time thing. I’m not after a serious relationship. I’ve got a lot of things I need to work through.”
His eyes meet mine, and just like in Eric’s, I see pity. “I know, and I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry, too. Maybe I could’ve done something to help you.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t. Charlie wouldn’t be alive if you had stopped me.”
“You really loved her, didn’t you?” he asks.
I hesitate. “I did. I do. Just not the way she deserves.” It’s the God-honest truth. “So, when are you coming back home?”
He places his hands in his pockets and rocks back and forth. “I’m kinda hoping I can bum here until Eric kicks me out.”
It’s a small kick in the gut, a much-deserved one. I kind of got used to him being around despite my constant complaining.
“Sure, just don’t be a stranger, okay? I’m gonna miss your damn PlayStation.” I chuckle.
“Yeah, maybe… I might be back soon. It hasn’t been unpacked. Eric says part of the roommate agreement is no electrical devices that don’t have the intention of getting you off.” Tristan rolls his eyes.
Eric yells from the balcony, “I heard that eye-rolling!”
“I better go.” My face softens as I attempt to walk away.
In a sudden move, Tristan pulls me into a hug. It’s exactly what I need, a small reminder that maybe there are people who do care about me. Maybe I need to stop being a self-absorbed asshole and open my eyes to see that others around me need attention. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Julian Baker, and the quicker you figure that out, the quicker you can go live your life.
Patting him on the back, acknowledging his kind gesture, I pull away and head toward the door, but not before Eric yells again, “By the way, you look like shit. And it wouldn’t hurt you to take a shower. Sheesh!”
With Tristan gone, I’m able to take some leave from work and bury myself in my manuscript. Two weeks of living on cheap packet noodles and coffee. Showering is unheard of, even after Eric’s caustic outburst, and I’ve grown this beehive beard. At first, it irritated me, but I soon got over it, and now I swear, bees could nest in there.
With money running low, or should I say non-existent, I canceled my gym membership and reverted to running through the neighborhood each morning and night to burn off the frustration I’m feeling. I ignore visiting any place where there’s a chance of running into Charlie. On the plus side, I’m meeting new people like the old lady down the road who offers me a glass of homemade lemonade every time I run past. Not wanting to be rude as well as being extremely thirsty, I take her up on her offer, and homemade lemonade soon becomes baked shortbread moving onto chicken pot-pie. Needless to say, I’m well-fed, and noodles soon became a distant memory.
Late one morning, I hit send, and the email is officially sitting in Mr. Grimmer’s inbox. Leaning my back against the chair, I crack my knuckles one by one in an attempt to relieve the tension. Thirty hours straight with no sleep, so to say I’m exhausted is an understatement. The worst part is that somewhere in the past twenty hours, I realized I hadn’t gotten laid in what seemed like forever and hadn’t even thought about jerking off, until now.
Clean slate. Just unadulterated raw sex, no names, and no identities. Grabbing my phone, I type in the URL until the page is smothered with every fantasy possible. Clicking on the girl-on-girl porn, I watch for a few minutes attempting to stroke myself but with no relief.
An hour later, it feels like mission impossible until I stumble on a Brazilian gangbang and gee was she in for a special treat with the ten guys hovering over her.
Exactly one minute and ten seconds is all it takes.
Now I’m spent.
I start to doze off until an annoying sound chimes, startling me from my slumber. I’m tempted to ignore it, but thinking it could be Mr. Grimmer, I reach to the floor where I left my laptop last and pull it up to my face to read.
Charlie: Hi Julian, hope all is well. I would love to catch up with you just to say thank you for everything you did for me, if that’s ok. Would you be able to meet us at a park this afternoon? Charlie xx
It’s the last person I expected, and it’s testing my strength. I’m finally moving on, not to mention she used the word ‘us.’ Lex won’t allow her to see me, and surely if he did, he’d hover over us like a vulture ready to feed on a carcass. There’s a part of me, however small it may be, that feels like I owe her this. Whether it’s closure, gratitude, whatever the fuck you want to call it, and with that in mind, I text back agreeing to meet. It’s only seconds later she responds with a time and place.
And, two hours later, I’m sitting on a park bench, showered and shaved. The beard would scare the children, and it isn’t like I’m trying to impress Charlie. Waiting in anticipation, my hands begin to feel clammy, the sun not helping my cause.
Children are darting in and out of the playground, oblivious to anything happening around them. It makes me think about children, family, that whole marriage bullshit. I’m thirty fucking three, and time is wearing thin to start a family. Not to mention, meeting a woman who I want to share my life with. It’s a life I’m not sure I want anymore, yet it’s flashing before my eyes—what I could be missing out on? Reality hits a few moments later when I get hit in the head with some action figure which a kid throws in the air.
Perhaps that annoying little shit should learn how to act in public.
Yeah, maybe I’m not missing out on anything after all.
At first, I hear the voices, forcing me to look in that direction. Charlie is only a few feet away, pushing one of those strollers which looks like a hovercraft. As I suspected, she’s not alone. Lex is standing behind her, watching me with an uncharted look. He bends down to kiss Charlie on the cheek and walks away, tailing his daughter who has ru
n off to the swings.
Charlie welcomes me with a warm smile, taking a seat beside me on the park bench. She’s wearing a pair of shorts and a shirt with DC characters on it. Tristan and Charlie would have a lot in common. She continues to smile, and it’s impossible to ignore the glow illuminating her beautiful skin. I can’t thank the Lord enough. She looks healthy. Alive.
Remember, that’s what you wanted, to walk away with Charlie alive and happy.
“Hey.” She grins.
Charlie appears to be nervous, fidgeting with a loose hem fraying on her shorts. It only lasts a few moments before the baby lets out a wail, distracting Charlie from our awkward silence. With ease, she gently picks up the baby from the stroller and cradles her in her arms. The wailing becomes softer, and without too much intervention, the girl is settled and quiet.
I manage to muster up what I can. Lex’s stare stops me from anything further.
“So, this is her?” I keep my expression to no more than a faint smile.
Charlie beams as she talks about her daughter. “This is Ava Lily Edwards.”
“She’s grown so much, a beautiful girl. I’m really happy for you.”
“That means a lot to me, Julian.” She pauses as if she’s choosing her words carefully. I know Charlie well, she’s outspoken, and at times, she and Eric are like two peas in a pod. She is known for being blunt, yet still knows the meaning of tact and manners, unlike Eric, who was born with the verbal-diarrhea gene.
“The reason I called you is that both Lex and I want to thank you…” Her eyes are drawn to him as she says his name, and the connection between them is indisputable. It’s almost like you can see a magnetic force pulling them to each other. I’m not completely immune to jealousy, yet I know where I stand with Charlie, and that’s not by her side as her husband and father to her children. What the hell am I doing here, rubbing a bottle of salt in a wound? And I mean, of gigantic proportions. They are a happy family, I get it. And I’m a nobody.
