by Iris Trovao
Alicia: My dad is being fucking insane did he talk to you? Ignore his calls.
Janos: Hey doll, everyone bailed on me for baking fun tonight so it would be just us. Got some pristine AF honeycrisp apples for turnovers. Come gorge on pastries with me.
Marissa: Can you have a look at your place for John’s old baseball glove? I thought it might be a nice thing to have in his hospital room. Maybe familiar old things will help?
Jolie clenched her jaw at that last one. Mrs. Hill was even more delusional than Alicia. John’s old baseball glove isn’t going to restore his brain functions, she thought with a sigh.
The fourth message wasn’t from a contact, but from a familiar string of numbers. She’d read them enough times since she’d written them down that she had them memorized, now.
The message read: What do you suppose two assholes can do to redeem themselves?
She was sure that’s what he’d sent just as her phone crapped out from water damage. Somehow, in the ether that was the data network, it had resent or her cloud had captured it. There was no other conversation history with him, but some kind of cell phone god had regifted her the message.
She exited the mall and moved away from the doors, leaning up against a bay window and pulling out a cigarette. I should have just come here first thing, she thought. Instead of spending hours on the phone with those fucking morons.
She lit her smoke and took a deep drag, rereading the message. She added the number back to her contacts and hesitated before typing in a new name. As she chewed over her answer to his question, she flipped over to her cloud settings and made sure it was set to automatic backups.
Finally, she blew out a plume of smoke as she typed out, I don’t know if there’s redemption for assholes like me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“I, uh…” Thad scratched the back of his head, nose crinkling up into a wince.
Carson couldn't help the flare of jealousy licking up his spine at how good-looking this man was. Even wincing and nervous, his chiseled face was angelic.
“I guess we should talk?” Thad drummed his fingers on his thighs. “Did you come here to talk to me?”
Carson stifled the laugh trying to bubble up out of his throat at the fearful apprehension in the young man’s eyes. What does he think I’m going to do, punch him? He rubbed his forehead and sighed.
“Is there a private place we can go?” he asked, voice thick.
Thad nodded and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I know a spot.”
Carson followed the younger man through a maze of hallways, watching his slumped muscular shoulders gleam golden even under the fluorescent lighting. He wore a white muscle shirt and satiny shorts, revealing—of course—defined calves plunging into athletic shoes.
The doctor stifled a groan. Even at his prime, even in his early twenties, he had never looked like this. Had this been Gina’s type all along? Carson wasn’t so self-deprecating to think that he wasn’t good looking. He knew even with his age he was still easy to look at, but this man… The petulant side of him didn’t feel like it was fair.
Thad opened another heavy wooden door, leading them into a beautiful courtyard. Sunlight streamed in through skylights in the ceiling, and trees and plants lined the round space, a babbling fountain in the centre. Carson lingered by the door, looking everywhere but at his companion.
Thad sighed and collapsed onto one of the benches, flopping against the backrest and lacing his fingers behind his head. “I uh, take it Gina doesn't know you’re here.”
Carson clenched his fists inside his pockets and shook his head, forcing himself to saunter over to the other end of the bench. “No, she doesn’t.” He folded his hands in his lap, staring down at his clammy fingers. A thought sparked in the back of his mind and he swallowed hard. “How do you know who I am?” Please don’t say you’ve been in my house, he thought, closing his eyes for a moment.
“I, uh, looked you up after I found out Gina was married,” Thad explained softly. “I guess I wanted to see what I was competing with.” He groaned into the palm of his hand, shaking his head. “Sounds so shitty now.”
It was shitty then, Carson thought bitterly. “How long ago was that?”
“Year or so.” The younger man shifted uncomfortably. “She was so secretive about everything, y’know, didn’t even use her real name until I figured out who she was…that she was married.”
The doctor narrowed his eyes. “How did you not know? She’s in the news all the time.”
“I'm not an artsy fartsy kinda guy, man,” Thad said, a pleading note to his voice. “I saw one of her charity things trending on Twitter and it was like… Anyway. When I talked to her about it she said you guys had an understanding, so I just assumed open marriage? But, like, a secret one? Because you’re this hot shot doctor and she’s…” He screwed his fists into his eye sockets, breath hitching. “Did she lie?” he whispered.
Carson swallowed the acrid taste slithering up from his throat. “Not entirely.” He fidgeted with the band still around his ring finger. It was so heavy, weighing down his heart like lead. “I wouldn’t say we had an agreement…but I'd known for a long time she was…with someone else. She knew I knew. But we never talked about it. Until recently.”
“I know you guys have kids and stuff, like I don’t want to…” Thad let out a deep whoosh of breath, puffing out his cheeks. “I never wanted to fuck anything up for your family. I felt so bad when I found out she was married, like…I just…” He turned his head away, and when he continued, his voice sounded thick. “I was already so in love with her. I can’t…I can’t not be in love with her.”
“I know what that's like,” Carson said, barely above a whisper. It should have made him feel better, to know that at least Gina wasn’t throwing their whole life into upheaval over a casual fling, but this was almost worse. Just another family she had the potential to build—and to destroy. “Things are more complicated now, though. This isn’t just about my feelings.”
At the look of pure confusion on the younger man’s face, a block of ice formed in Carson’s gut.
He doesn’t know. She didn't tell him. His lungs constricted. He doesn't know.
“Did something happen, or…?” Thad trailed off on the question and gnawed at his lower lip.
“I shouldn't have come here.” Carson stood up so fast he wavered as the world spun around him.
“Man, did something happen to Gina?” Thad demanded, jolting to his feet as well. “Is she okay?” The agonized worry lacing his words cut through Carson like a knife.
This isn’t my responsibility to tell him… Dammit, she was going to have to tell him sometime! How long was she going to wait?
“I need to call her,” Thad gushed and strode for the door.
“She’s pregnant,” Carson blurted.
The younger man froze, stock still. It didn’t even look like he was breathing. Every one of those defined muscles were taut, then his shoulders trembled. He finally turned, as if in slow motion, eyes wide, gaze begging.
“You’re not just messing with me—” His voice broke, cracking off into nothingness.
Carson shook his head. “Sorry.” He took a deep breath, forcing himself to hold the man’s gaze. “You shouldn’t have had to find out this way…I thought you already knew.”
“Is it…” Thad choked out, then cleared his throat. “Is it mine?”
Carson fought back another one of those sneaky, hysterical laughs at the thought. I haven’t touched my wife in years, are you kidding me?
Biting down a retort, he nodded. “Yes.”
Thad ran his hands over his golden shag, taking the strands between his fingers and tugging as he stared at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. “Why didn’t she tell me?” he murmured.
Carson didn’t think he was asking him, and he didn’t want to answer the question, either. He didn’t know how this man was going to react to Gina’s plans going forward. I still don’t know how to react…
“No, no, she’s not,” Carson replied immediately, and that brick in his stomach doubled in size as the younger man sagged with relief. “She just…ah, I didn’t want to have to tell you any of this.” He collapsed back onto the bench.
Thad stormed back over, sitting down on the edge and facing him. “Please.” He swallowed hard. “I know you don’t owe me anything. But this is my kid, man. Please.”
Carson poked his wedding band with his thumb once again, staring at the sunlight catching the gleaming metal. “She wants me to pretend it's mine,” he said hoarsely.
The younger man leaned into his hands, pressing his palms against his forehead, his elbows digging into his knees so hard it looked painful. “For how long? How long would I have to go not seeing my kid? I’m supposed to just sit at home by myself while the love of my life raises our baby with somebody else? So they just grow up not knowing me?” When he raised his gaze, his eyes blazed and his nostrils flared. “Is that what you want?”
“No.” Carson shook his head. “No, it’s the furthest thing from what I want.”
“Then what the fuck?”
She cares more about her image than she does her family, Carson thought bitterly, but felt it wasn’t fair to say so out loud. “I suppose she had it in her head that this would be best for everyone.”
Thad’s shoulders sagged. “I’m not like you. I don’t have a fancy job or a ton of money. But I love her, and I’m going to love my kid…isn’t that what's best?”
Carson swallowed the golf ball in his throat, blinking rapidly. “Yes,” he said, resolve tightening in his chest. “Yes, I believe it is.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Alicia: Are you ignoring me? We need you.
Jolie sucked back the last of her cigarette, tossing it onto the street before turning to knock on the front door of the cafe. She raised a hand to Janos as he poked his head out of the back room, and he held up a finger before disappearing again.
Not ignoring, she sent back. Just processing, still. This shit isn’t easy.
Alicia: No shit it isn’t easy. When are you coming to visit John?
Jolie sighed. I’ll come in the morning, she sent back. Quad shot mochas. Before she could slip her phone back into her pocket, another text popped up that sent her heart leaping up into her throat.
Doc: I used to think all assholes were redeemable.
She typed rapidly. Not anymore? She pursed her lips as she stared at his name. It didn’t feel right. She swiped over to her contacts and fixed it.
Dr. Tweedledick: I’m learning these days about how awful human beings can be.
Dr. Tweedledick: But for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re an asshole.
It’s worth a lot, she typed back, but you don’t know me. She hit send, every nerve ending on high alert. Before she’d lost him, she may not have told him what he was worth to her. She’d waited years to confront John about how she felt about their marriage and now they’d never get to finish the argument, never get to figure it out together and amicably go their separate ways.
People can disappear so quickly.
The latch clicked on the door and Janos pushed it open. “Girl, you still look like shit,” he said, though his tone was more concerned than teasing. He ushered her inside and locked the door.
“It smells like you already baked.” Jolie took in a deep whiff of sweet apple and pastry as she shrugged out of her coat.
“You know how hard it is to make proper pastry dough?” Janos asked as he skirted the counter. “I wasn’t going to subject you to that. We’re going to have a drink and eat some sweets and you’re going to tell me why you look like a zombie.” He slammed a bottle of wine down on the polished bar top and pointed a stern finger at her.
She took a deep breath, and for a brief moment considered high-tailing her ass back out the door.
People can disappear so quickly. Steeling her resolve, she tossed her coat down on one of the couches and approached the coffee bar.
“My god, Alicia must be spiraling!” Janos exclaimed, eyes wide as he clutched the mug in his lap. He'd long since switched to coffee, while Jolie nursed her buzz with the whiskey and cider she’d poured once the wine ran out.
“She is.” She tucked her legs under her on the couch, absently running a finger around the rim of the glass. “Her and her mom think he’s going to wake up and be fine.”
“Poor things.” Janos shook his head slowly. “And what about Pops?”
Jolie sighed. “He’s pressuring me to pull the plug.” She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and released it with a wet pop. “I know it’s the right thing to do. I just…I already put him in the fucking coma, now I have to kill him, too?”
“No, no, none of that bull-shiat,” he demanded. “It is not your fault he got into that accident.”
“How is it not?” Tears pricked her eyes, annoyance roiling up from her churning belly. “I upset him and then I left him there to drive home alone.”
“He’s a grown man,” Janos shot back. “You two having a spat didn’t cause him to get in an accident.”
“But had I stayed then he maybe wouldn’t have left when he did!” she snapped. Her heart pounded, shoulders slumping as she whispered, “Or maybe I would have been with him in the car and it would be me in that bed instead of him.”
His gaze softened, and he set down his mug, hopping over to the couch so he was next to her. “Survivor’s guilt is a thing,” he said gently. “You can’t let it take over. I’d be willing to bet that Alicia is feeling the same right now, her setting you guys up for the date and all.”
Jolie’s eyes widened, his words like a punch in the gut. I didn’t even think of that. “I’m so selfish.”
“Jeez, your self-loathing is like a superpower.” Janos shook his head. “I think it’s easier for you to hate yourself for your own problems than to address what the people around you are feeling.”
She tongued her cheek, then chugged the rest of her cider, slamming the mug down on the table. “You’re a good friend, Janos.” She slipped into her coat, reaching into her pocket to make sure her phone was still securely where it was supposed to be. “I’m glad I chose your cafe to live at for the last however many years.” Her throat constricted.
“Sit down, hon.”
“No, I gotta go,” she said thickly. “You should try texting Alicia again though, now that you know what's going on…I don’t really know how to comfort her with what I have to do.” She turned and practically ran for the door, jerking on it before remembering that it was locked.
She threw the deadbolt and ignored Janos calling after her as she burst out onto the sidewalk. She made it three steps before he hung out the door.
“Let me get my coat and I’ll walk with you,” he called. “I have to go near your place anyway.”
“I’m good,” she said without turning around, not wanting him to see the tears shining on her cheeks. “I’ll stop by in the morning to grab mochas for me and Alicia.” She hurried off before he could follow and ducked between two buildings, heading in the opposite direction of her building.
She fumbled for a cigarette with shaking fingers and lit it as she unlocked her phone.
Dr. Tweedledick: We may not know each other in person, but I believe you've been genuine. Why put up a front with a stranger?
“Because you’d be disgusted with me if you knew what I'd done,” she muttered around the filter, blinking away searing pain as smoke puffed up into her eyeballs. She stepped around an overturned trash can, debris crunching under her boots as she continued to walk through the alley.
Maybe it’s best that he hates me, she thought. Maybe it’s best that he knows me. The pretending would become exhausting eventually.
And people can disappear so quickly, she reminded herself.
My husband is dying because of me, she typed. And I feel fucking guilty about it, but not more guilty than for wanting it to just be over. We’re stuck and nobody can grieve unless he’s fully gone and I don’t want it to be my decision. I feel guilty for hating him before he got in his accident and I feel guilty for hating him now for putting me in this position.
She hit send and turned off her phone, shoving it back in her pocket. She reached the back door of one of her casual haunts and rapped on it three times in quick succession.
A tall bald man poked his head out, rumbling bass thumping around him into the evening air. “Oh hey, Jo, come on in.”
Jolie couldn't breathe. The air felt like soup. She thought she should be cold. She could see a streetlight, or ten, but it kept changing colours. Her shoulders were bare.
“Where the fuck is my coat?” she asked, or she thought she did—all she heard through the thick air was a low, slurred moan.
Am I outside? she thought, and waved her hand in front of her face. I am…I am…
The ground suddenly rushed up over her head like a roiling sea and she gasped for air, asphalt and dirt filling her lungs until her consciousness slowed to a stop.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Carson checked his phone for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Hey. Are you okay? he typed, then stared at it for a few moments.
He groaned and erased it. He'd already sent her six messages since her paragraph-long text earlier that night and his entire body was wired for sound when she hadn’t responded.
He was shell-shocked at her predicament. He'd been through this journey with her, listening to her talk about her husband and how he’d stood her up on Valentine’s Day. How she’d claimed to be a depressed loser with a dead marriage. He’d connected with that. They’d connected over it.
And now her husband was dying? He tried to imagine what he would be feeling right then if Gina had suffered some horrible accident. How guilty he would feel that they’d had such trouble and put off their happiness for so long only to have her dying in a hospital bed.
