Epic Love

by Trudy Stiles

  I stop rubbing Keiko’s belly so I can place my hand on her foot. She tenses underneath my touch and Keiko grunts, demanding my attention.

  “Listen, I realize you’re upset. I get it. But you touched on something the other night that we need to talk about.”

  The tension starts to leave her body, my touch softening on her foot. “I’m not sure I want to hear the truth,” she sighs.

  “I’m not sure I believe the truth myself,” I admit.

  Her eyes widen, and her face falls. “So you are still in love with Noelle. After all of these years?”

  I close my eyes and nod slowly. “I don’t know how to stop loving her,” I admit. My heart pounds in my chest over this admission.

  “I don’t get it. She’s gone. And I’m here.” Her shoulders start to shake as she covers her face with her hands. “I’m still freaking here. And I have been for years.”

  Shit. What have I done?

  “Haley–”

  “Don’t. Please don’t say something you think I want to hear.”

  “I’m trying to ask for help. Yes, I fully admit I love her, but I need help moving on.”

  “I refuse to be used to help you forget about her. You can’t put me in that position. I need you to be with me because you want to be with me. Not so you can forget Noelle.” Tears cascade over her cheeks, and I can’t do anything about it. Keiko is still sprawled out on my lap, and Haley pulls her knees tighter against her chest, closing herself off from me.

  “I’m not asking you to help me forget. I’m asking you to remember her with me.” I desperately need to talk about Noelle. I need to hear if Haley feels the guilt that I do. Did she also have her suspicions about Noelle’s abuse?

  “What do you want me to say?” she asks.

  “Did you see what I saw? Did you ever have the suspicion that she was being abused?”

  She gasps and covers her mouth with her hand. “What?”

  I immediately realize the mistake I made by bringing up this topic, but I continue. “She was constantly injured. Bruises all over her body. She always claimed she was a klutz, but I couldn’t help but think she was lying. Covering up for someone.”

  “You don’t think her father–”

  “No! I don’t think that at all. I think it was her stepmother.”

  “Tonya?”

  “Yes.”

  She shakes her head. “No way. Tonya was nothing but kind. My mother played Mahjong with her almost every Friday. She spent so much time with us, and my mom was one of her best friends. I don’t see it at all. There is no way Noelle was abused by Tonya.”

  I’m shocked by this admission. While Haley and Noelle weren’t very close, Haley would have noticed something. She always did. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes,” she replies defensively. “How can you, after all of these years, accuse someone of abuse when you have no proof? Noelle is dead. She’s gone. Stop blaming others for it and move on already.”

  Her sudden coldness sends chills down my spine. Keiko jumps off of my lap after I tense up with anger. “How could you not see it?” I demand. “Tonya treated her like shit!”

  “I never saw anything like that.”

  I shake my head. Of course Haley didn’t notice anything. She wasn’t Noelle’s friend. Ever. I feel like I’ve betrayed Noelle in some way by sharing these private things.

  “I shouldn’t have come tonight,” I admit. I stand up and look down at her. “I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

  She jumps to her feet, toes touching mine. “You’re going to leave?” Anger rises in her voice.

  “Either I’m crazy, or you and I saw very different sides of Noelle–and her family.”

  Her eyes lock onto mine. “We certainly did see different sides of her, which is exactly why you can’t let her go. You were in love with her. You saw things you wanted to see. You spent every single night at her window, professing your undying love to her. Sneaking kisses. Making up goddamn fairy tales. Dreaming about spending your lives together once you both left for college.” She backs away from me and begins pacing through her living room. “I watched all of this. Jealous of the connection that you had. Her life was perfect and she had you.”

  Holy shit.

  “What the fuck, Haley?”

  “It’s been over ten years, Heath! How can you still be in love with her? Why can’t you move on?” She’s begging me for answers, her anger still heightened. “I’m standing here, right now, in the present. I’m willing to do anything to keep you, but you can’t even look at me without thinking about her!”

  “And suddenly all of this matters, now? For the past few years, I’ve been nothing but honest with you. You knew that I wasn’t in search of a relationship. We were having fun. I’m sorry that you had another expectation. I’m sorry you thought we could be more than we were.”

  “Are you serious? Everything matters, Heath. Everything matters because I’m in fucking love with you. I have been for years. Longer than you will ever know. I was in love with you before she ever showed up. She’s. Dead. You can’t get her back. And I can’t understand why you won’t let her go.” Her eyes are wide, and she looks possessed. Like someone I don’t even know.

  I can’t return her feelings. I’m not capable. But hearing her talk about her long term feelings for me and her jealousy of Noelle makes me realize that Haley’s definitely not the person to rationalize with right now. Or ever. She can’t see past her own feelings to try to even understand why I can’t let Noelle go. My guilt is strong, and Haley doesn’t believe the theory that Noelle was abused.

  Selfishness oozes from Haley at the moment, and I can’t believe I never saw it.

  “I’m really sorry, Haley. I wish things could be different, but they can’t.” She needs to understand that I’m not here to grovel. I’m not here to fix things. I came here for help. Help that Haley is completely incapable of giving. She’s too caught up with what could have been and what should have been. She feels no guilt over Noelle’s death. She was so consumed with herself, years ago, that she didn’t see what was right in front of her the entire time.

  “Get out,” she orders, sensing that I’m about to unleash my pent up anger on her.

  I walk toward the front door but turn around before I leave.

  “I fully admit that I’ve been fucked up for years over what happened to Noelle. I feel intense guilt for not talking about my suspicions. I wish to God I would have said something to someone. She was getting beat up by her stepmother, whether you choose to believe it or not. That girl was tortured. I saw it in her eyes every single day. I confronted her on more than one occasion and she threatened to leave me if I told anyone anything I suspected. If that doesn’t tell you that she was hiding something, I don’t know what does.”

  Haley’s eyes widen, but she makes no move to speak.

  “I blame myself for her death. I should have spoken up, and I didn’t. The guilt I carry outweighs any other feelings that I have. I haven’t been able to move past that guilt and I mistakenly thought you might feel the same way. Man, was I wrong.”

  “Don’t you dare try to pull me into your vortex, Heath. Are you trying to make me feel guilty? Feel bad? Well, fuck you!”

  Keiko starts barking, moving his head back and forth between us. He doesn’t know who to believe or protect.

  “I loved you, Heath.”

  I can’t listen to this anymore. I open the door and walk out. Keiko barks tentatively as I close it behind me.

  I’m shocked at how this conversation progressed. Haley’s unwillingness to see and absorb what I was trying to say was staggering. Selfishness oozed from her.

  I’m validated by my decision to end things with Haley. I’ve wasted so much time in a void. In a “relationship” that was really more about her than me. Almost three years of a no-strings-attached fling that was really riddled with barbed wire and hooks.

  Garrett was right.

  I’m a fucking idiot.

  Noelle


  Past

  Age 17

  “NOELLE, WHERE THE fuck are you?”

  I hold my breath, backing further into the corner of my closet. I’m surrounded by all of my old stuffed animals that I’ve had since I was a child. They’ve been in a pile in the back of my closet for as long as I can remember. I haven’t had the heart to throw them away, attempting to maintain some of the innocence that used to be my childhood. My favorite summer dress hangs in front of me, hiding me. I clutch one my cherished plush toys, Mr. Jingles, against my chest. He’s a stuffed puppy that I’ve had forever, and he’s been with me through thick and thin. Even longer than she’s been living here.

  “NOELLE!” Her screams are getting louder, closer. I remain as still as possible as I hear her opening doors and slamming them. She’s in the hallway outside my room and about to kick in the door.

  My bedroom door flies open, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Please don’t find me. Please don’t find me.

  “I’m going to give you one chance to come out from wherever you’re hiding,” she hisses. “If I find you–when I find you, I’m going to make you wish you came out on your own.” Tears sting my eyes, my heart racing. She’s going to kill me this time. I don’t want to die.

  “Three…”

  “Two…”

  “I’m here!” I yelp and jump up before she can see the intricate camouflage I made in the back of my large, walk-in closet. I glance behind me and see the small wooden door that leads to the crawl space behind my closet. She doesn’t know about that door. I should have gone in there.

  The closet door flies open and she walks in, rage in her eyes. “One!” she yells as her fist flies through the air, connecting with the side of my head. Pain shoots behind my eyes, and my vision blurs. My arms fly out to my sides, trying to grab onto anything that will stop my fall. I grasp onto dresses and shirts, pulling them from their hangers. Another fist is buried in my gut, forcing the air to leave my lungs. I gasp for air, doubling over and falling to my knees.

  “Get up, you piece of shit!” she screams and grabs my hair on the top of my head, yanking me to my feet. I still can’t breathe. I’m choking and dizzy, her face two inches from mine. “I’m going to ask you for the very last time, where is your father’s safe?” Her mouth is open, her teeth look like they could tear through my flesh.

  “I don’t know!” I choke. Tears stream down my face, and I know I’m about to get punched again. There’s nothing I can do to stop her right fist from hitting the side of my head. Her screams are drowned out by the ringing in my ear, but I can still hear my own moans and sobs.

  “Don’t lie to me, you little shit. Before we left for New York, I know he told you!” Until recently, I didn’t even know this secret safe existed.

  “I swear to God, he didn’t tell me anything!” I scream, begging for mercy.

  Everything is spinning now. Her face is blurry, and I whimper. “Please. Stop. I don’t know.” I tell a partial lie. My father didn’t tell me where it is, but I stumbled upon a hidden switch in his office last week and when I flipped it, a key pad appeared from underneath his desk drawer. It was recessed into the wood, so you couldn’t feel it if you ran your hand over it. I don’t know the code to the key pad, but I assume it opens the safe she’s looking for.

  My knees buckle, and I fall to the floor as she kicks my shin with full force. “You better figure out really quick where it is, or you’re going to regret it!”

  The ringing in my ears gets worse. I can barely see.

  “Tonya, I don’t know–”

  “Mom! Call me Mom, you fucking bitch.”

  This woman is not my mother. Cancer took my real mother a few months after I was born. My father married Tonya when I was two. And until recently, they seemed to be happily married. But Tonya has become more desperate, more violent, trying to find whatever she’s been looking for.

  I don’t understand all of the details, because I’ve only heard bits and pieces of conversations and arguments, always about money. Sometimes they talk about the “accident” but I have no idea what they’re talking about. I’ve heard them arguing over some other documents and only my father knows where they are. She’s begged him to give them to her. She also said something recently about her family coming after me and my father if anything were to ever happen to her, or if those “documents” were to ever see the light of day. I can’t stand that she’s holding something over him and has been for years.

  “Do you hear me?” she screams, jerking my hair harder. I feel her hot breath on my nose, and I squint through my tears.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” I apologize with as much sincerity as I can. But I know I’m not fooling her. She knows how painful it is for me to call her Mom.

  “Apology not accepted.” My cheek stings as she slaps me as hard as she can with her open hand. She releases my hair, my scalp tingling from her grip. Warm liquid fills my mouth, and I realize I’m bleeding. Did I lose a tooth?

  She backs up, assessing my injuries. Her eyes are wide when she sees the shape I’m in. It’s summer break, and I officially graduated from high school last month. So my injuries can be hidden from the public, since I don’t leave for college for another month. She’s not worried about me having to go to school on Monday with visible injuries. No. She’s doing the math in her head, counting the days until my father comes home from his current business trip.

  “Noelle, time is up. Where is that fucking safe?”

  Blood drips from my mouth, and I attempt to catch it in my hand. I run my tongue along my teeth and they feel like they’re all in place. That’s when I realize my lower lip is split wide open. Definitely a visible injury.

  She makes a fist again and I shake my head, pleading, “No, please–”

  The doorbell chimes loudly, and I exhale. Her eyes dart down the hallway and back to me again. “Keep your fucking mouth shut. And don’t leave this room.” She punches me square in the chest, and I fall backward into my closet. She adjusts her blouse as she walks out of my room and down the hall. A few moments later, I hear our front door open, and her voice has changed. She sounds cheerful and happy. “Girls! What a surprise!” she cackles, laughter traveling throughout the house.

  “It’s game night. We wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Heidi Daley says. She’s one of the teachers from my school and is part of Tonya’s traveling game group.

  “That’s right,” Tonya giggles. “I almost forgot.”

  “The rest of the girls are on their way,” Heidi says. “We brought wine and cheese. Laura is on her way with chips and dip.”

  “Fabulous!” It’s amazing how Tonya can go from crazy to cheery in a matter of seconds. “Come on in.”

  Her friends come inside, and I flinch when the front door closes.

  They can’t see me like this. Tonya would kill me if I went out there, covered in blood and bruises. My chest tightens, and I cough up warm blood. I stare at what looks to be a large blood clot and can’t believe that just came out of me. Holy shit, I’m bleeding internally.

  Laughter fills the house as her friends become comfortable. The wine is going to start flowing soon and I begin to dread the moment her friends leave tonight. Her inquisition of me is hardly finished. Maybe I’ll be dead before that happens.

  I’ve got to get out of here.

  I grab Mr. Jingles from the floor and notice he is stained from the blood that was dripping from my lip. I try to wipe the blood away, but it only smudges, turning the faded blue fabric an odd shade of crimson-purple. I limp over to my first-floor bedroom window and open it; pain rips through my knee and ribs at the same time. My bare feet hit the ground and I panic, my heart pounding in my chest. Where am I going to go?

  My father’s in Europe on business and won’t be home for another week. How can I stay away from her while avoiding the place where I think his safe is?

  Heath. I need to get to him. Now.

  Tonya’s laughter drifts through the open kitchen window, and I drop to my kn
ees and army-crawl through the grass. I don’t want her, or her friends, to see me out here. I can’t embarrass her in front of them. My elbows dig into the grass as I make my way to the other side of the yard. My ribs are screaming in pain; my knee throbbing. I need to reach the far end of the yard where the wooded piece of our large property begins. There are several walking trails that weave through the trees, and I can disappear without her noticing. My lungs constrict again, and my chest feels even heavier. Breathing is becoming difficult as my eyes begin to blur.

  My arms won’t move anymore. The throbbing in my side is getting worse, and a stabbing pain grabs me. God, please don’t let me die out here.

  “Noelle?”

  My eyes pop open, and I exhale slowly, moaning in pain.

  “Noelle?” The voice is more urgent now, but my eyes are blurry. Feet rustle in the grass, rushing toward me. A familiar voice.

  I look up and see a shadow bending over me, and I immediately begin sobbing in pain and embarrassment.

  “Can you help me?” I choke as grass tickles my cheeks.

  “Jesus, what the hell happened?” Heath asks, worry in his voice.

  I look back and see that I’m no longer in the line of vision of our back kitchen window. He reaches down and grabs hold of my hand. “You’re bleeding!”

  “I know,” I admit weakly, as he pulls me slowly to my feet. I wince, trying to disguise the immense pain that I’m in.

  He holds me firmly against him. “I’m getting you inside.”

  “No!” I shout, gasping in pain. “Please don’t take me there.” Warm tears begin to slide down my cheeks, and his eyes widen with concern.

  “Don’t worry, I’m taking you to my house,” he pauses. “Who did this to you?” he demands. “And this time, you need to tell me the fucking truth!”

  “I fell.” The lie hits the air, and I immediately regret saying it. Every step I take reverberates in my skull, reminding me of the crushing pain from her punches.

  “I don’t believe you. I’m calling the police.” His arm is wrapped around my side, and his fingers dig into my bruised ribs.