by Aly Martinez
Liv was standing in the middle of the road, staring at my taillights.
Her big, brown eyes were as empty as I felt, and her face was painted with absolute anguish. Without out a single second of hesitation, I leaned over and pushed the passenger’s side door open in invitation. In a pair of heels and a short, black dress, she sprinted forward, not slowing until her ass hit my leather seat. Her door hadn’t even shut before I was off again.
After turning her cell phone off, she tossed it in the glove box. Mine quickly followed. She didn’t ask any questions as I pulled onto the highway in the exact opposite direction of both of our apartments. She didn’t want to go home any more than I did.
Our destination was unknown, and that alone made it infinitely better than the one we’d just left.
I drove.
And drove.
Then, when I was sick and tired of aimlessly driving, I drove some more.
With the exception of Liv flipping the radio on when the sun went down, we sat in absolute silence for over four hours.
Alone, yet still together.
Finally, around ten p.m., with an empty tank of gas and sleepy eyes, I slipped into a parking space in front of the apartment Liv and Mia shared. Liv didn’t delay in pushing the door open, but that’s the only effort she put into getting out.
Dropping her head against the headrest, she whispered at the windshield, “Her parents told me she left letters for us. We can pick them up whenever we’re ready.”
“I don’t want a fucking letter. She lied. She’s sorry. I got it. Nothing left to say.”
“Maybe it will explain stuff though. It might help.”
My angry gaze jumped to her, but she was still staring out the window.
“Will it bring her back?” I asked. “No? Then I don’t need a goddamn letter. Fuck that. Fuck her parents too. I don’t want shit from them.”
“They didn’t kill her, Quarry.”
“How can you say that?”
Her eyes finally met mine. “It was what Mia wanted. She signed the Do Not Resuscitate order, not them.”
“What the fuck are you doing here? Please, God, tell me you are not actually siding with them? Because, if I recall correctly, we both begged them not to give up on her. They didn’t give a shit about anyone. Liv, they didn’t even get a second opinion.”
“I’m not siding with anyone but Mia. She made a choice. We have to respect it.” Her expression was emotionless, even though her voice trembled.
“Respect it? Fuck her shitty choice. She should have respected me enough to let me have a say.”
She laughed without humor. “You never would have let her go, Q.”
I slammed the heel of my palm against the steering wheel. “You’re goddamn right I wouldn’t have!”
“She had brain cancer. It was going to happen one way or another. She knew it. And she made a decision. We don’t get to be mad about that.”
“Get the fuck out of my car.”
“No. Listen to me—”
“I’ll start listening the moment you stop spouting the bullshit her parents shoved down your throat tonight.”
She raised her voice for the first time all day. “It’s the truth!”
“It’s bullshit! All of it. How am I supposed to respect the fact that she lied to me for six months? Six fucking months that I could have used to prepare for this.”
“Oh my God, Quarry!” she yelled, exasperated. “Do you seriously think six months could have ever prepared you for this? I could have known since the day I met her and I still wouldn’t have been ready to lose her.”
“I could have tried! I could have spent that time devoted to being with her instead of traveling to fights. Jesus Christ, Liv, last weekend, I went out with the guys from the gym to play pool. The last fucking Saturday night of her life on this Earth and I was shooting pool with a bunch of assholes I can barely stand. Six months she kept the fact that she was dying a secret. Six. Fucking. Months. You’re right. I wouldn’t have been ready to let her go, but at least I could have figured out how to say goodbye. Instead, all I got was to squeeze her hand, say, ‘I love you,’ and then be escorted out of the hospital by security. Fuck!”
“That’s because you were acting like a fool and threatening her family! That was your choice!”
“Get the fuck out of my car. Now!”
“And it’s also the reason you got thrown out of the visitation tonight. Get your shit together or you won’t be allowed at the funeral tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to go to the funeral!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, making her flinch. “I don’t want there to be a funeral at all. Now, I’m serious. Get. The fuck. Out. Of my car.”
Through gritted teeth, she seethed, “You know what I’ll never understand? How you claim to be so in love with her, but in this entire conversation, I haven’t heard you say a single word that wasn’t about you. How this affects you. How this hurt you. Last time I checked, you aren’t the one being buried tomorrow.”
“I wish I were!”
“Fuck you! The world doesn’t revolve around Quarry Page!” With that, she jumped out and slammed the door.
I didn’t even wait for her to make it to the sidewalk before I was peeling out of the parking lot.
Fuck her.
Who the fuck is she to say that shit to me?
Had she forgotten that Mia had lied to her too?
What about how many times she’d begged Mia’s parents to give it a few more days before taking her off life support? No. That must have somehow magically slipped her goddamn mind.
None of it was about me. It was all about Mia and the absolute hell she’d chosen to put us through.
How dare Liv try to act like I was the one being selfish? God forbid I’d wanted to know that my girlfriend was dying. Or, better yet, have a chance to fight to keep her alive.
That doesn’t make me selfish.
It makes me a man.
I could barely contain my anger as I whipped my car around and headed back toward her apartment. I had every intention of stomping up those stairs and telling her just what I thought about the bullshit she’d been spewing, but the moment I slammed my car into park, my temper disappeared.
Liv was crumpled over at the foot of the stairwell. Her arms were looped around her legs, her face buried in her knees. As I opened the car door, her loud cries sliced through me.
No. Liv hadn’t forgotten anything.
She was just doing a better job at masking it than I was.
After jogging over, I lifted her off the ground and cradled her in my arms.
“I c-can’t go in there,” she stuttered through sobs. “She’s supposed to be in there.”
“Shh,” I whispered into her hair. “I know.”
“I can’t do this. Please just tell me she’ll be here when I wake up tomorrow. Please,” she cried into my neck.
My heart sank. “I’d give anything to make that happen.”
“I…I…can’t stay in that apartment without her.”
“Okay. Okay. I’ve got you, Rocky. Let’s go home.”
She didn’t offer the first complaint as I settled her in the front seat or when I carried her up to my apartment after we arrived.
She didn’t actually say anything at all.
Lost in my own grief, I didn’t have much compassion to offer anyone.
But it was Liv.
I dredged up what little I could muster, knowing she’d have done the same for me—more, actually.
After snagging a blanket and a pillow off my couch, I placed her on the futon in my messy spare bedroom that doubled as a computer-slash-weight room. Then, using my laptop, I clicked on one of the playlists Mia had made, setting it to repeat before turning sleep mode off so the screen would stay lit all night. Once all of that had been set, I made a beeline out, ready to lock myself away in my own room and break down in private.
Just as I made it to the door, she called my name to catch my attention.
Locking my fingers together, I rested them on the top of my head and sighed. “Don’t be sorry. You’re right. I’m a fucking mess right now. I just don’t know any other way to deal with all of this. I’ll get my shit together before the funeral tomorrow. I promise, okay?”
“Okay,” she squeaked back.
“Get some sleep.”
“Later, Q.”
The corner of my mouth tipped up a fraction of an inch as I stepped out, shutting the door. “Later, Rocky.”
Chapter Eight
Quarry
One Year Later…
LIV NEVER WENT BACK TO her apartment. A few days after the funeral, her parents showed up at my place to get her. She all but lost her mind when her dad said that she wasn’t allowed to stay with me anymore. Liv didn’t bat her eyelashes at her father that day. Nor did she plaster on the sweet and cry crocodile tears until he caved to her demands. No. That night, she squared her shoulders, looked him directly in the eyes, and showed him the real Liv James.
My Rocky.
Her mom and I watched with gaping mouths as Liv boldly stood her ground and informed Leo that she was moving in with me. I think Sarah was in awe to see Liv talking to him like that. However, I was shocked because never once had we discussed her moving in. Though, as I watched that crazy woman go toe-to-toe with her even crazier dad, I wasn’t about to wade into the middle.
I could stand the company.
Two days later, Leo and his army of bodyguards moved all of Liv’s stuff into my guest room. After attempting to intimidate me for most of the afternoon, each one of her father’s grunts pulled me aside for a lecture on watching out for her and keeping my hands and my eyes to myself. The latter wasn’t going to be a problem. However, failing women I cared about seemed to be a skill of mine, so I made no promises on the former.
After we’d lost Mia, Liv and I grew even closer. Everyone around us was affected by her death, but no one truly understood the vacancy she’d left behind in our everyday lives.
I’d heard of phantom pains when a person loses a limb. That’s the only way I could describe the first few months without Mia. I’d wake up each morning with a smile on my face only for the jagged edge of reality to demolish it. I couldn’t count how many times I picked up my phone to text her something funny only to hurl it across the room when I remembered the cold, hard truth. And, each time my glove was lifted in the air, my eyes would automatically scan the crowd, searching for Mia’s beaming face. It was a knockout blow when my mind reminded me that I’d never experience that again.
Liv was always there though, smiling proudly from the front row—the hollowness in her eyes matching my own.
Despite the turmoil in my personal life, my career couldn’t have been going better. The transition to professional boxing was easy for me. The opponents were bigger, stronger, and more talented than ever before, but I was a vortex in the ring. On the outside, I was a whirling force to be reckoned with, unable to slow down. But, on the inside, I was completely empty. I funneled the anger and debilitating pain of having lost her into every punch I threw. With a never-ending supply of anguish fueling me, I became unstoppable.
I was in the ring, sparring with Slate, when Liv came stomping through the ropes. Panic built in my chest when I saw the tears streaming down her cheeks and the storm brewing in her eyes.
Dropping my hands, I started toward her, but Slate’s glove caught me on the chin, sending me stumbling back against the ropes.
“Fuck!” I gritted before spitting my mouthpiece out and tearing my headgear off. Being clipped by the former heavyweight champion was no small blow—headgear or not.
My head was still spinning as he stepped into my face and barked words I couldn’t make out without my hearing aids. Focused on the woman charging toward me, I didn’t even entertain the idea of reading his lips. Rolling my eyes, I waved him off as Liv close the distance between us.
“You!” She accusingly pointed her finger at me.
“Me?” I replied, tugging my gloves off.
Her mouth was moving a million miles a minute with obviously angry words, but I had no clue what they were or why they were aimed at me.
“Sign,” I said, interrupting her.
In mid-thought, her hands lifted, forming the words even as her mouth kept going. “It was about you! Just fucking you!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Mia’s letter!”
The air between us suddenly became toxic to my lungs. My eyes grew wide as I took a menacing step forward. Liv held her ground, but out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Slate inching closer.
“You read her letter?”
“Yes. And I don’t give a damn what you have to say about it. You’re still pissed. Fantastic. But I woke up this morning needing her more than ever before. So yeah. I called her mom and went and got my letter.”
A war raged inside me. I didn’t want to give one single fuck about what Mia had written as her goodbye to Liv, but despite my best efforts, I was dying to know exactly what it said.
Word for word.
Thought for thought.
Every single noun, verb, and adjective.
Hell, I was even desperate for the inkblots her pen might have left behind.
I’d never considered actually getting my letter from her parents, partly because I knew they hated me for the way I’d acted when she’d died. Another part of me didn’t want it because I’d spent the last year holding on to my bitterness against her ghost. But, deep down, I knew the main reason was those words were the only remaining bit of Mia left. As soon as I read whatever message she’d left me, she’d really be gone.
Forever.
In the words on those pages, she was alive. Just knowing they existed made waking up each morning slightly less agonizing.
However, judging by Liv’s face and attitude, I’m not sure she felt the same.
“What’d it say?” I finally asked.
She shook her head. “I’ll tell you what it didn’t say. It didn’t say, ‘I’m sorry.’ It didn’t say, ‘I love you.’ It didn’t say, ‘You were the best friend I ever had.’ It didn’t even say, ‘I’ll miss you.’” Her chest shook as I watched a silent sob ravage her. “One sentence is all I fucking got. One sentence from my best friend in the entire world. And you know what? It wasn’t even about me.”
I didn’t move a muscle as her angry fists flew toward me, slamming into my chest while she screamed, “It was all about you!”
I had no need for my hearing aids or even sign language to know what she’d said. I’d read every excruciating word as she’d forced them through her lips.
Slate stepped forward, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her into a hug, but she fought ravenously, attempting to claw her way back at me.
“You! Quarry! You!”
I was dazed, watching her unravel, unable to process what the hell she was talking about. What was about me? It wasn’t until the fight had left her and she’d sagged in Slate’s arms that I became unstuck. Taking two giant steps forward, I was ready to pry her from his grasp if I had to. That was rendered unnecessary when she dove into my arms.
Till caught my attention from the ropes, signing, Take her to my office. She doesn’t need the whole gym watching this.
I nodded and moved through the opening he’d created by stepping on the bottom rope.
Liv dangled in my arms as I carried her. She wasn’t crying anymore, but her hands had begun to tremble as if the emotions were attempting to find a breach.
Once in Till’s office, I sat
her in his chair then squatted in front of her.
“Tell me what’s going on,” I demanded.
“Why did Mia start texting me after we first met?” she spoke and signed with shaky hands.
“Uh…I don’t know.” I scratched the back of my head, confused.
Her sad eyes lifted to mine. “She didn’t say a single word to me at dinner that night we all went out, but when I left, she wouldn’t stop texting me until I finally gave in and responded. Why? She obviously thought I was after you. Why would she want to be my friend? I’ve never understood that.”
I laughed without humor. “I don’t know why Mia did half the shit she did. She was insane, Liv. Hell, the first time I met her, she walked up to me and declared that she was my new girlfriend. I laughed, but she only stood there confidently smiling. It was my first day at that private school for the hearing impaired Till forced me to attend. I didn’t want to even be there, much less date some girl who may or may not have a few screws loose. But she was so fucking funny and wouldn’t let up until she got her way. Needless to say, our first date was that Friday night.” I shrugged. “I don’t know why she wanted to be your friend, but I didn’t question it because it made her smile and it meant I got you back.”
“I don’t have a lot of girlfriends, Quarry. All the gossip and pretending to be someone you’re not is exhausting. I can’t handle the drama of it all.”
Using my thumbs, I wiped away the black makeup smudges under her eyes. “I can tell.”
“I’m serious.” She swatted my hands away. “But Mia wasn’t like that.” Swallowing hard, she looked back to the door. “I asked her a few years ago what had made her reach out to me and she had no real answer. She avoided the question by saying that she could just tell I was cool. I suddenly have this sick feeling that our friendship was formed on nothing more than the theory of ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’”
I barked a laugh, but her gaze stayed locked on the door.
“Jesus Christ, women are weird,” I mumbled at the ceiling before refocusing on Liv. “You seriously think she spent over three years being your friend because she was jealous? Liv, she liked you more than she did me half the time! Once, we got into a huge fight because I’d taken her to a nice restaurant for our anniversary and she spent the whole dinner texting you about your prom dress. She loved you!”
