Unveiling Hope

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Unveiling Hope Page 11

by Jeannine Allison


  “You came to Carillo for work?” I asked, surprised by my anger.

  He paused. “Well I came here to see you, but yes, I happened to have a meeting set up, too.”

  I hadn’t thought anything of it when he showed up last night, late on a Sunday, that it could be about anything else. We both had such fluctuating schedules that a strictly weekend visit wouldn’t accomplish much.

  John didn’t notice anything wrong. He simply finished getting ready and dropped a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll see you this afternoon?”

  “I work from eleven to four.”

  “Okay. Call me when you’re off?”

  “Sure.”

  He smiled.

  He was smiling and I was deciding that I had to end this.

  I didn’t know what was happening with Derek, or what would happen. But this thing with John wasn’t fair. Not to him and not to me.

  John left, and I stayed in bed for another hour until my bladder hated me and demanded action. When I was done I wandered out to the living room. Now that I’d made my decision, it felt like things should appear different. But it all looked the same.

  The TV. The couch. Derek’s guitar. My keyboard. Derek’s notebook.

  My eyes focused on that. He wrote in there all the time when we were playing. He wouldn’t say what and he never showed me. But I’d always been curious.

  Before I’d even made the decision, my feet were carrying me forward and my hands were reaching for it.

  My hands shook as I opened the notebook. Whether with fear of what I’d find, or guilt about breeching Derek’s trust, I didn’t know.

  I flipped the notebook over a few times before I shook my head and gently tossed it back on the table. It hit with a thud and disturbed some of the loose papers nearby. The top few flew to the ground and when I bent to pick them up, my eyes caught on the words.

  Jealous,

  Of the coffee mug that touches your lips.

  Of the wind that makes your hair wild.

  Of the skintight pants that mold to your legs.

  Of the people who get your smile.

  Of the sun that strokes your skin.

  I skipped down a few lines and read:

  Of the guy who’ll watch you walk down the aisle.

  I flipped the pages over and put them back on the table before quickly walking to my room. I threw myself on my bed, surprised by the emotions fighting for dominance in my chest.

  Jealousy. Pain. Fear.

  My eyes blurred with tears as I stared up at the ceiling.

  Those words… they were so intimate, so beautifully written. And with so much emotion I could feel how much Derek cared about this nameless, faceless girl. A girl who had what I wanted… his affection, his thoughts.

  Was it for Lauren? The level of feelings there, the depth—surely required a muse. Inspiration. Genuine love.

  A hopeful—probably delusional—part of me wanted to think they were words written for me. Just like I wanted to believe his annoyance last night was about me being with John. Just like I’d hoped all his teasing meant something more than harmless flirting.

  But it was hard to tell with Derek. Especially because he’d acted this way before, all when he thought I was a “kid.”

  I always thought of myself as a confident woman. I liked who I was. I liked what I saw in the mirror—even if it did remind me of my mother. She was a beautiful woman. It was an honor to look like her.

  I knew who I was—even with my flaws and the things I wanted to change—and I loved myself. I couldn’t even imagine how hard life would be if I didn’t. So my feelings about Lauren or any other girl didn’t come from a place of insecurity. I didn’t feel inadequate compared to her. We were just different.

  Different types of beautiful. Different types of fun. I was no more or less than her.

  But it was still painful to realize everything you were was something another person might not want.

  I wouldn’t truly know though, not until I asked. Not until I broke up with John and asked Derek what I should’ve asked a year ago. Not until I demanded resolution of whatever was going on between us.

  I didn’t stay at Lauren’s. I was never going to. I didn’t say it to hurt Sam, I didn’t want to hurt her; there would be no satisfaction in that. I was simply looking for a reaction, one she didn’t give me. Sam really didn’t care what I did. Or who I did. I wished I could numb myself as easily as she could.

  Instead I found a fight. Which was a horrible idea since I couldn’t concentrate for shit. By the time the “fight” was called, my entire left side was throbbing and my jaw was stiff.

  “What the hell was that about?” Nevada asked as he walked up to me. “I haven’t seen you in weeks, and now you show up like this?”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  I felt him looking at me from the corner of my eye. “You’re pissed. It’s not a good idea to fight when you’re amped up.”

  “Isn’t that the whole point of fighting? The aggression?”

  “No.” Nevada paused and looked around. “I suppose that might be what it’s about here. But in a gym, in a real ring, it’s an art like any other sport.”

  He was right. Coming here when I was frustrated had never ended well in the past. “You never come when you’re angry?”

  “Never,” he immediately answered. “Only when I’m calm. I won’t associate anger with violence.”

  Taking a deep breath, I nodded. “It’s…”

  “You always say we’re friends,” he said. “Well, friends tell each other things.”

  I looked over and found him staring straight ahead at the next fight.

  “I like my roommate. Who’s also my best friend’s little sister and seven years younger than me. Who also has a boyfriend. Who… God, there are dozens of reasons for us to stay apart. I can’t think of a single reason we would be good together.”

  Nevada didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “You really like her?”

  “Yeah, I do,” I said with a sigh. I was surprised I was even having this conversation. The only time I’d talk about Sam in the past was when Sherry brought it up.

  Nevada stood still for a couple seconds before he turned and walked toward the front door. I frowned and trailed after him. He was waiting for me outside and only started talking after we’d been walking for ten minutes.

  “My dad had a nine-to-five, six-figure job that came with a lot of respect. He was less than a year older than my mother. He donated to charity and helped me with my homework.” Nevada kicked at a rock in front of him, sending it flying into a lamppost. “And after all that, when he thought I was asleep, when the rest of the world wasn’t watching, he would beat the crap out of my mother. The first time she tried to leave him, he raped her.”

  I looked over and saw Nevada swallow roughly. Before I could say anything, he spoke again.

  “The second boyfriend she had once she was free of my dad was my sister Ashton’s dad. He left her pregnant and hundreds of dollars poorer when he decided to skip town and steal from her on the way out.” His fists tightened the more he kept going.

  “My youngest sibling, Phoenix, is three years old. His father didn’t use his fists, but he beat my mom up all the same. With his words, his indifference, his cruelty and infidelities.”

  Nevada finally stopped and turned my way. “All the guys in between were either one-night stands or two-timing losers who broke up with her after a few weeks of sex and partying. I have three sisters and two brothers, all of whom are named after the city they were born in because my mother couldn’t bother to think of names that meant something. We all have different fathers. And all of them were no more than two years older than her. They weren’t her boss, her brother’s best friend, in committed relationships, or any of the other thousand reasons society gives for why two people shouldn’t love each other.”

  “Nevada—”

  “From what I can tell, you’re a good guy, Derek. I’m not saying the situation isn
’t complicated. I’m not saying to disregard this other guy’s place in her life. All I’m saying is… it’s okay to tell her how you feel, and if she feels the same and decides to break up with her boyfriend, that’s okay too. Do the right thing as best you can, but don’t deny your feelings. Or tell yourself they’re wrong. Because as far as I’m concerned, as long as you’re not taking advantage of the woman, all you have to do is love her. If you can treat her well and love her, what other reason does there need to be?”

  I was stunned silent, and judging by the way Nevada started walking away, he wasn’t expecting an answer anyway. He only turned back once and added, “There’s nothing honorable about staying in a loveless relationship, and there’s no shame in admitting your feelings when you have them.”

  I squinted against the sunlight as I woke up. My body felt even more abused than it had last night. I rolled over, forgetting I was on a couch, and landed on the floor. “Unnng.”

  “Gracious as ever,” I heard my sister quip. She was probably knitting in her love seat by the window.

  Grunting, I rubbed my elbow, which had hit the coffee table on my way down. My eyes opened, finding two little green ones staring down at me. Both of us were still, assessing, when all of a sudden I whisper-shouted, “Boo!”

  With a startled squeak, he fell backward, landing on his diaper-covered ass. When I rolled onto my stomach to look at him, he giggled. He was already trying to stand up again.

  After Nevada walked away last night, I ended up at a bar where I had one too many drinks. At the end of the night I called an Uber to bring me to Naomi’s so I could crash on her couch. When I showed up and asked if I could stay, I wasn’t aware they were babysitting their thirteen-month-old nephew, Andy. Damien and Naomi watched him overnight once a month so Damien’s younger sister, Ellie, and her boyfriend, Grayson, could have a date night.

  “Da-ick!” Andy screamed as he jumped on my back. Naomi laughed like she always did when he said my name. It sounded closer to “dick” than “Derek.”

  “Ah!” I yelled when he grabbed two fistfuls of my hair and yanked.

  “UP!”

  I had created a monster. I’d pretended to be a horse one time and let him ride me, and now it was all he wanted to do when he saw me. Naomi laughed again. “C’mon, dick.”

  After ten minutes of crawling around the living room making horse sounds, Andy thankfully grew bored when Damien walked through the front door. I loved Andy, but I was too sore and hungover to deal with a toddler right now.

  He tumbled off my back and tried to run to Naomi’s fiancé. Damien scooped him up with one hand and walked over to Naomi. “Morning, sweetheart.”

  She tipped her head back. “Morning.”

  After he gave her a quick kiss and threw me a nod, he walked into the kitchen with Andy on his hip. Andy’s chubby little legs were kicking in excitement as he played with Damien’s hair. “I’m going to make us some breakfast,” he said as he lifted up the grocery bag in his hand.

  “Sounds good,” my sister called back.

  Falling to my back, I threw an arm over my head and sighed.

  “So, do you want to tell me why I babysat two infants last night?” Naomi finally asked. I lifted my arm and glared. As usual, she didn’t care, or back down. She stared expectantly, one eyebrow raised and her lips flattened into an unimpressed line.

  “Sam and I had a fight.”

  “Wow. She’s stronger than I thought, given that your face looks like an ugly punching bag.”

  “Thanks.”

  She shrugged and went back to knitting. “Just calling it like I see it.”

  I sighed. “Sam didn’t punch me, obviously. We fought, verbally, and I—”

  “Went to find a different kind of fight?” she cut me off, knitting with more aggression than I thought possible. “So you could look as crappy as you feel?”

  “Naomi—”

  “No.” She stopped and looked at me. “What’s going on with you? I knew you fought when we were younger. Mom wasn’t around and we needed money. I didn’t like it, but I got it. And I was too selfish and self-involved to say anything about it then. But now? What’s your excuse now?” Naomi’s voice was uncharacteristically nervous.

  “It’s not a big deal, Naomi.”

  “It is, Derek. It is a big deal. You could get seriously hurt. There are no rules, and when you stopped going a few years ago you said it had started getting shady.”

  I couldn’t say anything. Not when she was right.

  We both looked toward the kitchen when Andy started crying. My sister put down her needles and stood up. “Go home, Derek. Fix whatever is wrong with Sam. Stop the fighting and figure out what you want out of life. Because it has to be more than this.”

  She reached down and grabbed my arm before helping me up. “Right now you’re settling because you think you don’t deserve more. But you do, Derek. You deserve a hell of a lot more.”

  For the first time since Sam moved in, I didn’t want to go home. I imagined her cooking John breakfast while he sat at the counter, talking about stupid shit and laughing for no reason. He’d be happy just because he had her.

  Sure enough, when I stepped into the apartment, the smell of breakfast greeted me. I slowly turned around and slowly locked the door. Naomi had asked me what I wanted. Right now all I wanted was to have Sam making breakfast for me. I’d left Naomi’s house with the scent of bacon trailing after me, and I walked in here to the smell of maple syrup. I was hungry, sure, but what I really wanted was the knowledge that someone was thinking of me.

  “Derek?”

  I counted to three before turning around and walking toward Sam’s voice. I frowned and sat down at the empty counter. Sam’s back was to me as she stood at the stove. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Hungry?” I repeated.

  “Yeah. I’m almost done.”

  “How did you…?”

  Sam looked back at me and timidly smiled. “Naomi called. She told me you were in rough shape and on your way home.”

  Of course she did. As if I hadn’t felt pathetic enough.

  Sam’s eyes moved around my face, examining my bruises and cuts, pretending not to be concerned. That made me think about the fight, which in turn made me think about my petty argument with Sam.

  “I’m not hungry,” I mumbled. I actually felt a little sick.

  “Derek, wait.” She scurried around the counter. “It’s a white flag. A peace offering.” Sam smiled. “I’m sorry about last night.”

  Maybe if I hadn’t looked at her, I would’ve been fine. I’d have stuck to my guns and retreated to sulk in my room. But I didn’t do that. I looked straight into her pleading eyes and was immediately lost.

  With a sigh, I nodded. Sam looked relieved as I sat back down and she returned to the stove.

  Sometimes it amazed me how much Samantha cared about other people. No one’s problem was too small, and no one was insignificant in her eyes. Every time she met a person, she seemed to ask herself, how could I leave them better than I found them?

  She was apologizing to me when she’d done absolutely nothing wrong.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, Sam. I was an ass.” I paused, looking around. “Where’s John?”

  “Gone. He had a meeting.”

  “This morning?”

  “Yep.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I thought he came for you.”

  “Apparently not.”

  She wasn’t facing me so I couldn’t be sure, but I could’ve sworn she sounded angry. And being happy about that was something I wasn’t proud of.

  “Do you work today?”

  Nodding, she said, “In an hour. You?”

  “Yeah. Four to nine.”

  Sam turned off the stove and dished up breakfast before putting it in front of me. Then she brought me a cup of coffee and stood there smiling.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Of course. We need to talk later. Once you’re off
work.”

  I picked up my fork and cut into the French toast. “Why can’t we talk now?” I asked, uneasily.

  “I have to… well, I have to take care of something first, and then I work till four, and then you work till nine. So you see, we can only talk tonight,” she rushed out in one breath.

  The food was hard to swallow. I didn’t know what to make of this. “Sure. I’ll come right home.”

  “Good. Good.” Standing up straight, she turned back and started cleaning up.

  “I can do that. You cooked,” I said around a delicious mouthful.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.”

  “Oh… okay. Great.” Sam awkwardly fidgeted next to the counter. She seemed nervous, but also excited, like she was on the verge of something more. Like she was about to make a big change which by its very nature was terrifying, but she also wanted it.

  After my display last night, I wouldn’t be surprised if the change was her wanting to move out.

  “Thanks again. I’ll see you tonight?” she confirmed once more.

  “Yeah.”

  Then her smiling face disappeared as she shut her door.

  DEREK AND I NEVER got to talk. Because John never came back.

  After his meeting two weeks ago, he sent me a text while I was getting ready for work saying he had to fly back right away. He had already been on his way to the airport.

  I left the apartment annoyed, and Derek gave me a weird look when I told him that a talk was no longer necessary.

  Honestly, everything had been awkward since John showed up.

  We’d hardly practiced in the two weeks since he’d shown up because I’d been so on edge. I didn’t know how to act around him. I couldn’t say anything to Derek until I broke up with John. And I couldn’t break up with John while he was thousands of miles away.

  So we’d barely been talking. And since Naomi told me not to ask about the bruises—a request it took everything in me to follow—I was also increasingly worried.

 

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