Alone

by Marissa Farrar

  “What can I do for you, Peter?” she said instead. “I’m assuming this isn’t a courtesy call.”

  “I need you to come in and clear your desk out. You left some things.”

  “Throw them out,” she told him. She didn’t care about the photograph, box of tissues and hand cream on her desk.

  “We can’t do that. It’s office...”

  “Protocol,” she finished for him. “How did I guess?”

  He sighed as if she was the one putting him out. If he’d been in the room with her, she would have throttled him for the sound.

  “Just come in when you can,” he finished.

  Serenity hung up the phone without bothering to say goodbye. As if she didn’t have enough on her plate. She wanted to ignore the request, but didn’t want him calling back when Jackson was home. She didn’t want to imagine how that conversation would go.

  Her legs gave way and she sank down on the sofa. She didn’t normally sleep so late. Usually she’d be well on her way to work by now and Jackson would be the one sitting on the couch, but the late night had taken its toll. She needed to get to the hospital. Hopefully Jackson had taken a turn for the worse during the night and the doctors had decided to keep him in a bit longer.

  Guilt jarred through her at the thought. When had she become such a bitter person?

  He’s done that to you. Made you what you are today.

  Except that wasn’t the whole truth. Jackson had certainly played his part, but she’d been dealt many bad cards in her life. Her husband was simply the latest. Feeling sorry for herself didn’t help anyone. She’d rather be stronger, a better person than she’d become.

  Sebastian made her want that.

  Serenity forced herself to her feet and climbed the stairs to the bathroom. She needed to go to the office and pick up her things before collecting Jackson from the hospital.

  In the bathroom, she turned on the shower faucet. Water gushed into the tub, spraying her with a cold fine mist. The boiler kicked into life and the water warmed until steam clouded the room. She slipped out of her underwear and stood naked in front of the mirror.

  Steam covered the glass, her reflection a distorted blob. She wiped her palm across the mirror causing beads of condensation to run down the surface. Her reflection peered back; unworthy and untrusting. Serenity didn’t think she was ugly, not on the outside. Inwardly, she felt like a failure. She couldn’t see what drew Sebastian, though she couldn’t deny the attraction. The possibility that he saw something in her made Serenity pause and look at herself in a way she’d never been able to before.

  Was it possible for her to have another life? Did she deserve something more than this?

  She stepped into the shower, wincing as the hot water hit her skin. Her body adjusted to the heat and she immersed herself in the water like a baptism.

  Sebastian, Sebastian, Sebastian.

  She ran his name over and over in her mind as scalding water coursed down her body. Steam filled the room and she inhaled, cleansing her lungs. Serenity picked up the soap and ran the bar over her skin, across her flat stomach, across her pubic bone. A tremor of excitement shuddered deep at her core, in a part she thought long dead. She couldn’t remember any time in her adult life where she had physically wanted a man, yet now she imagined her hand was his, her touch belonged to him. Thoughts of Sebastian consumed her.

  Too aware of time passing, Serenity forced herself from the warm comfort of the water.

  She stepped from the shower, her skin flushed with desire. She wished he was there, taking her in his arms, kissing her, slipping his fingers into her most intimate parts.

  The guilt rushed back, but with it came surprise. Serenity endured sex. Now, she wanted, even anticipated it. She couldn’t remember ever wanting someone, but the thought of Sebastian touching her sent thrills racing through her.

  Forcing thoughts of Sebastian from her mind, Serenity went into her bedroom and dressed in her usual outfit of jeans and a sweater. On top of the dresser, her ‘S’ necklace nestled in a small dish. She picked the chain up between her fingertips and carefully hooked the silver around her throat. The necklace slipped beneath the collar of her sweater. The jewelry against her skin comforted her. The last memento of her old life, the only thing her mother had ever given her, and as much as she wanted to hate the woman, Serenity found it impossible to let go of the past.

  Looking up at her old office building, Serenity felt a pang of regret. She had liked her job; even been good at it, when she’d been there. Her position included taking care of the engineering company’s payroll and overtime. She coordinated who covered should someone call in sick on a major job. Though a predominantly male environment, the situation suited Serenity just fine. She knew all men weren’t like Jackson. If she worked with women, they would want to know about her; ask questions about her life, her husband, the things she liked to do. Invitations for drinks would come, worse, requests for her and Jackson to come to dinner. Instead, Serenity kept herself to herself, and the men allowed her aloof behavior. They thought her standoffish, probably called her a bitch behind her back, but she didn’t care.

  Serenity enjoyed the projects she assisted with, even if she didn’t have much to do with the actual building. She found it interesting to talk to the engineers about the reasons they chose certain materials for certain buildings, why they used a particular joint or strut. There was science and mathematics to the work, a precision. The beauty of a building didn’t draw her; she loved the stability and predictability a great design brought.

  When she allowed herself to dream, she imagined herself an architect in another life.

  Serenity took a breath and walked through the revolving glass door. From the lobby, she rode the elevator twelve floors up to her old department.

  The company secretary, Elise, was talking on the phone as she walked in. Elise glanced up as Serenity passed and gave a tight lipped smile of distant sympathy. Serenity forced herself to smile back, but made no plans to hang around and chat.

  Instead, she headed straight to her old desk. Someone had left a cardboard box on the surface and she put the few items remaining on her desk inside.

  Peter, her old boss, came out of his private office.

  “I didn’t think you’d want to come and say goodbye,” she said without bothering to look up.

  Peter perched himself on the edge of the desk and folded his arms across his chest. Reluctantly, Serenity put down the photograph she held and straightened.

  He sighed. “I know it’s probably not my place but I wanted to ask if I could do anything to help.”

  Genuine concern haunted his eyes, but the words stabbed deep inside of her. She hated the thought of people knowing about her home life, but mainly she was angry. The man had the nerve to poke his nose into her business when he was the one who’d fired her.

  “What’s wrong, Peter? Guilty conscience?” she said, her voice sharp.

  “I... I thought ...” but he didn’t finish his sentence. He sighed again and ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Just take care of yourself,” he finished.

  She tilted her head to one side, her eyebrows raised. “Of course,” she said. “No one else will.”

  “Are you all right?” he asked scrutinizing her, his eyes narrowed. “There’s something different about you.”

  She forced a smile, “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m good.”

  Serenity threw the few items from her desk in the box and left.

  A silver-framed photograph of her and Jackson on vacation sat in the top of the box. Taken in the early days, the photograph had captured her young and glowing, her nose pink from the sun. The vacation to Florida had been the first she’d ever taken and she remembered being happy for the first time in years.

  The girl in the photo didn’t exist anymore; she had been broken and couldn’t be fixed.

  Serenity took one last look at the picture and then let it fall from her fingers into a trash can on the side of the
street. Without a second thought, she tipped the rest of her things in and stuffed the cardboard box on top of them for good measure.

  She wiped her hands on the seat of her jeans and a strange wave of pride washed over her. Peter was right. Something was different about her.

  With a lighter step, Serenity trekked back across town. The whole time she searched for Sebastian, hoping to see him. His face reflected in every tall man with dark hair. Her stomach leapt in expectation at every turn, but she was always disappointed.

  By the time she reached the hospital, her positivity had seeped away. She was tired and fed up. Whether from the disappointment of not seeing Sebastian again, or the prospect of taking Jackson home, she didn’t know, or care.

  Why hadn’t she seen Sebastian again? Was he angry with her for not leaving Jackson? Her emotions churned. If she really loved this man, why hadn’t she done exactly that?

  Love?

  Could she love him; a man she barely knew? What did she need to know? What made you fall in love with someone? Just because you knew their favorite food was steak or they had seen ‘The Great Escape’ fourteen times, didn’t make you love them. How they made you feel must be more important. She loved each and every one of her unborn babies. They never had the chance to have a favorite food, or color, or song, but she didn’t love them any less.

  Serenity didn’t understand her reasons for staying with Jackson; she should have done exactly what Sebastian said and packed her bags. Instead, she held onto the guilt that she deserved everything she got—or maybe the guilt held onto her?

  Arriving at the hospital, she headed straight up to Jackson’s ward. She was late and the old nervous butterflies fluttered in her stomach, certain he would punish her for her tardiness.

  From the doorway of the ward, she could see Jackson lying in bed, his eyes closed. A white bandage was taped down to the back of his head and a silver bedpan rested on top of the covers, held loosely between his fingers.

  Her heart gave an evil little leap for joy. Her prayers about him taking a turn for the worse must have come true. She chewed her lip as she approached him. He sensed her arrival and opened his eyes.

  He squinted. “Where have you been?” he said in the ‘I’m so ill and weak’ voice he saved for when he wanted sympathy.

  The sound made her want to scream, but she forced a smile. “Sorry. I needed to go into work and get a couple of things done. But I’m free now to take care of you.”

  Jackson grunted and flailed his hand around on the bedside table, trying to find his glasses. Eventually his fingertips touched the frames and he hooked the glasses up and slid them onto his face.

  “That old bastard of a boss didn’t give you a hard time, did he?” he grunted. “I don’t want to go and have words with him about how he’s treating my wife.”

  She gave a small, unnatural laugh. “Don’t be silly.”

  “Good.” With exaggerated effort, he pushed himself to sitting and glanced at her empty hands. “Haven’t you brought me anything? Where are my magazines? Where the fuck are my grapes?”

  Embarrassed at his language, Serenity glanced around, making sure no one else heard.

  “I didn’t think to bring anything. I thought you would be coming home today.”

  Jackson grunted again and lowered himself back down onto his pillows. “I started getting sick during the night and then my vision went blurry. The doctors suggested I stay in another night.”

  “Oh, I see.” She tried not to let her joy at the thought of another night without him, and a possible night with Sebastian, show. “Shall I go down to the shop? Get you what you wanted?”

  “What’s the matter? It’s like you can’t get away quick enough,” he complained, but then went on to give her a list.

  She made her way down to the shop, bought him magazines, a couple of packets of chips and a coke. For a man who’d been throwing up, he was certainly craving some junk food. She wondered how much of his nausea and blurred vision was because of a concussion or if his hangover had kicked in.

  Reluctantly, she went back up to the ward.

  “Read it to me,” Jackson said, pawing at the magazine.

  She resisted the impulse to roll it up and hit him.

  The rest of the afternoon was spent reading to her husband and running around for him. Serenity found herself repeatedly glancing at the clock, hoping Jackson wouldn’t notice.

  Just before five, a nurse came around to advise visiting hours were over and Serenity should let Jackson get some rest. Serenity was only too eager to have an excuse to leave.

  She leaned down to kiss Jackson on the cheek but, before she had the chance, he reached out and grabbed her face between his thumb and forefinger. Squeezing her cheeks painfully, Jackson forced her mouth against his.

  Serenity held her breath while he kissed her, not wanting to smell the old alcohol and potato chips on his breath. Finally, he let her go.

  “Just wanted to make sure you won’t forget me,” he said, smacking her on the rear as she made her exit.

  “I could never forget you,” she said, her voice cold. And she walked away.

  Chapter Seven

  Serenity walked out of the hospital and found Sebastian sitting on a low wall in the ambulance bay.

  He sat with his arms resting on his knees, his foot bothering an old cigarette butt on the tarmac. A smile broke out on her face. He wasn’t yet aware of her presence and she drank in the sight of him. He was dressed in a light grey suit and a strand of his dark hair fell over his forehead. Even in the failing light, he took her breath away and for the thousandth time she wondered what the hell he saw in her.

  The ever present guilt reared its ugly head. How could she look at another man when her husband lay in a hospital bed in the building behind her?

  The guilt didn’t stop her from approaching.

  “No appearing in bedrooms today?” she said as she walked up to him. “No more doorways to disappear through?”

  He glanced up with a grin, the low light catching in his green eyes. “No, thought I would travel the old fashioned way today and catch the bus.”

  She laughed; a foreign sound for her. “Why do I find it hard to picture you on public transit?”

  “Okay, I lied. I walked.”

  Jackson’s presence in the ward behind burned into her back. Knowing he might look out of a window or walk out at any moment to find her talking to Sebastian terrified her. She wanted to get away from the hospital.

  Suddenly, she realized she could do just that. She could leave with Sebastian and no one would be any wiser.

  A sense of freedom washed over her. She always had to report to Jackson exactly where she was and when she’d be back. The lack of restrictions almost overwhelmed her and her head spun as though she were drunk from it.

  She could do whatever she wanted.

  What if he calls you at home?

  The thought struck fear into her heart, but she refused to let the possibility drag her down. If he asked where she’d been she would think of something; she’d been vacuuming and hadn’t heard the phone ringing. For once in her life, Serenity decided she didn’t care. He would probably beat her when he got home anyway, just to make up for the couple of days he had missed. She couldn’t escape from that.

  Sebastian must have seen her face pale. “Are you all right?”

  She shook herself, pushing away any thoughts of Jackson.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she said, looking up at him. “Are you here visiting your mysterious friend again, because visiting times are over?”

  He grinned. “No. I came to see you.”

  She couldn’t help the buzz of excitement coursing through her.

  “Can we go somewhere,” she said, her joy at having him with her overwhelming any shyness. “Somewhere special to me?”

  “I’d like that. Where are we going?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  He stood and swept his hand forward. “Lead the way.”


  They walked from the hospital grounds together, leaving the sirens and the sickness behind. With each step taking her further from Jackson, Serenity’s heart lifted a little more. She kept checking for Sebastian beside her, that he hadn’t disappeared on her again or she wasn’t hallucinating the whole thing.

  They strolled side by side, their fingers touching, and the backs of their hands brushing together.

  The walk was long but neither of them minded. As the late afternoon bled into evening and the last of the light fell out of the sky, they headed down through the suburbs, toward the ocean. Serenity didn’t feel the ache in her legs from the long walk. The pain in her back, which normally gave her such trouble, had all but disappeared.

  They headed down a hill; the expensive houses of Santa Monica framed them on both sides of the wide street. A soft glow lit the houses as families went about their evening routines. Above them, street lamps flickered to life.

  Finally, a view of the sea rewarded their long walk. The ocean stretched out ahead, a black expanse of water punctuated by the occasional light from a ship or small sailing boat in the distance. The white sand of the empty beach glowed under the moonlight.

  Ahead stood the pier, each side lit with a myriad of colored light bulbs suspended from wires. On the right side, restaurants served the tourists. Beside them an arcade house, with its ten-cent slots and flashing fruit machines beckoned the sightseers. A children’s carousel with colorful elephants instead of horses, went around and around. Beside the carousel, a stand sold popcorn and cotton candy, the sweet aroma drifting over, tempting them in.

  Serenity knew the far end of the pier had been closed off while reinforcements were carried out on the struts. Her old company had won the tender for the work and she was disappointed she wouldn’t be able to see the job through to the end. In a few days, the rest of the pier would be closed off and as far as Serenity knew, it would remain closed for the rest of the winter.

  She hoped her dismissal wouldn’t spoil her feelings about this place. She hated that something bad was now linked to the one place she had always felt good.