by Aly Martinez
"Of course he would pick Thursdays," she mumbles to herself.
"What’d you say?" I ask.
"Nothing. Yeah. Thursdays will work."
"Good. Now go to sleep. I have a few days off, so we’re going somewhere tomorrow. I don’t know where yet. But we need a vacation."
"We just got back from Puerto Rico," she laughs.
"Sleep," I repeat.
She doesn’t say another word. Moments later, her arm grows heavy across my chest and her breathing evens out.
I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, knowing this won’t be the last time I have to fight for Sarah.
I didn’t tell her nearly enough.
THE MORNING after Leo and I got back together, we slept until noon then got up and headed for the airport. Leo had no bag or clothes with him, and he convinced me to do the same thing. So, armed with only my purse and the toothbrush I snuck inside, we left for an impromptu vacation.
When we arrived at the airport, Leo walked to the desk and asked for the cheapest flight they had going anywhere. We were given two choices: Detroit or Boston. Two hours later, we were in the air and on the way to Massachusetts.
We didn’t do a lot while we were there. We stopped at a local mall and picked up a few necessities then found a hotel downtown. We were only there for two nights, but Leo was right—it was a much-needed vacation. We didn’t get deep or talk about the issues that were looming over our heads. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t ask him some questions. The fact that he already knew most of my drama made me brave enough to ask. He didn’t bat an eye as he told me about the ten months he’d been working undercover before meeting Erica, but I always stopped him before he got to that night when everything went wrong.
Leo had a few questions as well. He didn’t understand why I hadn’t dated anyone in seven years—or, more importantly, why I was willing to break the pattern and go out with him. I didn’t have an answer. I don’t know why either. I told him that it had to be some cosmic pull that forced me to immediately recognize that he was the one. I only made it about halfway through the sentence before I doubled over in laughter. He replied with a shrug and told me that he just assumed I was horny after all that time. I can’t say that he was wrong, but I secretly think I might have been partially right too.
The minute we got back to Chicago, I started mission ‘Apologize To Aiden.’ I decided to cook him dinner. Men love food—at least that’s always been my experience. So I made him my famous chicken and dumplings. I was worried that he wouldn’t like it, but he raved when he brought the Tupperware back the next day. For two weeks, I cooked him food to take home for dinner. Finally, he asked me to stop. He used some excuse about all the butter forcing him to stay at the gym longer. Then he gave me a hug and told me not to worry about it anymore. But I still felt bad, so I started making him protein smoothies for breakfast every morning. It made me feel a little better at least.
It’s been four weeks since we got back from our little getaway, and I have to say that, even despite how dramatic things got before we left, it’s been smooth sailing since we returned. True to his word, Leo sits down with me every Thursday night to talk. We started out just talking about generic parts of our relationship and how to navigate them.
On the first night, I asked him to start taking anti-depressants. He told me no. I didn’t push. I’m also not letting it go. I’ll let him say no for now, but not for forever.
For such a dramatic couple, Leo and I sure handle these chats like professionals. It’s obvious that we have both spent many of hours in therapy. We can fight like cats and dogs over what movie we are going to watch on Friday or who is doing the dishes after dinner, but we dive into deep stuff with level heads.
Tonight is our fourth conversation, and while Leo usually sits back and lets me take the lead, tonight, he jumped right into a tough topic.
"How are you still friends with Casey and Eli after what they did to you? They let you bear their cross for all those years. You should hate them!" he shouts.
Hmm… Okay, maybe we were doing a great job at keeping level heads. Clearly, we’re not anymore.
"Why are you yelling?" I ask, propping my feet up on the couch between us.
"Because, when I think back on all the things you’ve told me about your past, ninety percent of it all stems from guilt—guilt they could have relieved you of by not sitting on the truth for five fucking years." His chest heaves, but something just doesn’t sit right.
"No. I don’t believe you," I say calmly.
"Don’t believe what?" he snaps.
"I don’t believe that the way you’re acting is because of your feelings toward Casey and Eli. What else is going on with you?"
"Nothing. I get pissed every time I think about it. Sarah, I’ll be really fucking honest—I don’t like you hanging out with them. It’s not good for you," he declares sternly.
"Well, I’m sorry you feel that way. But it’s not going to change anything." I cross my legs at my ankles and point my toes so they brush his leg.
"Well, don’t expect me to hang out with them." He scoots away an inch so my feet can no longer reach him.
"Okay," I respond simply, not wanting to match his intensity. It’s a rare day when I’m the levelheaded side of our relationship, but it makes me smile to myself.
"You know what. I don’t feel like doing this right now."
"It’s Thursday, Leo," I gently remind him.
"We aren’t bound to Thursdays, Sarah. I don’t think the world will end if we move it to Friday for one week. I’m in a shitty mood, and if we try to do this, I’m just going to find shit to be an asshole about."
"I can see this, but what I’m trying to figure out is why you are in a shitty mood."
"Please just let me take you to dinner or something. I can’t do the talking thing tonight. I just can’t."
"All right. Let’s go." I stand up, sliding on my heels then heading for the door.
"Thank God," Leo breathes as he follows me.
DINNER DID little to improve Leo’s mood. He sulked for most of the evening, barely even talking to me. He even moved away once when I tried to take his arm. It’s completely unlike the man I’ve come to know, and quite honestly, it worries me.
"You spending the night?" Leo asks as we get to his car in the restaurant parking lot.
"I guess that depends if you want me to or not. I’m feeling a bit like a burden on you tonight."
"You’re not a burden, ángel. I’m in a terrible mood. That’s all. I think I’m just going to work out then head to bed."
"Since when do you work out at night?" I ask curiously.
"Since I have some shit to work through tonight, and taking it out on the weight bench seems like a better plan than being a dick to you," he answers, and I have to agree with his assessment.
"And just to be clear, there is nothing you want to talk about?" I ask, hoping to draw something out of him.
"No." He tosses me an insincere smile and reaches down to squeeze my thigh.
"Okay. Well, my car’s at your place, but when we get back, I’ll go home and give you some space." I intertwine our fingers and kiss his knuckle.
He squeezes my hand in response before pulling it to his own lips. "Thank you," he tells the windshield.
WHEN WE arrive at his apartment, I walk upstairs to get my keys but decide not to linger.
"I’ll see you in the morning. Okay?" I say, heading right back out the door.
"Yeah. Sounds good." He gives me a gentle kiss and pulls the front door open.
"I love you," I call over my shoulder, but the door closes without another word spoken.
As I walk into the parking garage, my mind whips around, trying to figure out what’s really going on with Leo. I might have agreed to let him have some space, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know what the hell is going on inside his head. I play back as much as I can remember about the last forty-eight hours, but nothing stands out. Nothing except for our odd
conversation about Casey and Eli—the very same conversation we never finished.
He’s never even met Eli, and he’s only seen Casey a few times in passing. I can’t imagine that he has just suddenly developed these strong feelings. Yet, out of the blue tonight, he got pissed off about them still being my friends. It’s not like I have issues with his relationship with Erica—
Shit.
Finally, it hits me.
I rush back into his apartment, using my key to let myself in. I find him sitting on the couch with his elbows to his knees and his hands fisting his hair.
"I never answered your question about Casey and Eli," I announce.
He lets out a groan when he realizes I’ve returned. "We can talk tomorrow," he replies, not even turning to look at me.
"No. It’s Thursday and I want to tell you now."
"Sarah, for fuck’s sake. Please!" he shouts as his frustration gets the better of him.
Ignoring his outburst, I begin to talk. "For five years, I carried the weight of that night on my shoulders. The guilt ate away at me until, eventually, the hate and anger seeped out onto everyone I came in contact with. Brett caught most of it because he was always there. He just wouldn’t leave me alone."
"Boy, do I know that feeling," he comments while leaning back against the couch.
"No, you can’t compare me to the way he handled things. Brett tried to force me to talk with hopes of me returning to our happy little life together. You don’t need to say a single word. I just want you to hear me. Then I’ll leave."
He rolls his eyes but motions for me to continue.
"I was absolutely vile to Brett. In some ways, I enjoyed the fact that he suffered right alongside me. I hated seeing people happy back then. I guess you could say I was jealous. I had no idea how the hell to get there, and it enraged me to see people moving forward with their lives when I was frozen in the past. I was horrible, Leo. I physically assaulted Brett on numerous occasions. I would just fucking lose it. I threw things at him and slapped him more often than not. Hell, I even punched him once."
"Shit," he mumbles.
"You remember his wife from the bar? The tiny woman with the kind smile? Yeah, I hit her once too."
His eyes pop in surprise, and I walk over and crawl into his lap, straddling his legs. He may want to get rid of me, but for the next part of this, I need his full attention. If I’m right about why he’s on edge tonight, he needs to hear this more than anything else.
"It was the only way I could express the feelings that were constantly multiplying inside me. But I had an outlet. It may have been the wrong way of expelling the anguish, but it was something. Now I want you to imagine how excruciating it would have been if I had kept all of that shit bottled up. That’s what Casey went through. She had to live alone with the secrets and the knowledge of what she did."
"She didn’t have to, Sarah," he bites out.
"No talking, remember? I won’t get into Casey’s story or the whys. You should know there are a few factors from that night that may not excuse their actions but will definitely shed a new light on the choices that were made. One day, I’ll let her tell you her side, but tonight, I’m telling you mine." I loop my arms around his neck. "If I could go back to that night I broke into Jesse’s apartment, I would. Actually, I would change something about almost every day of my life, but that’s not possible. Casey is no different. She took off and left town, unable to face any of us. And Eli took a slightly different approach. He tried to make things right."
Leo’s shoulders stiffen, confirming my suspicions from earlier.
"Eli decided to become Brett’s and Caleb’s best friend. Did you know he once bought twenty chairs from Caleb when he found out that woodworking took Caleb’s mind off life? He dumped a huge amount of his savings on chairs that he just ended up giving away because he had no where to keep them.
"And if Brett needed something, Eli was always there. For the first few months after the wreck, I ran off every sitter Brett could hire. He didn’t want to leave my side, but he had to get back to work. He started working nights so I’d be asleep while he was gone. He still worried though, especially after the first time I tried to kill myself." I pause as the emotions creep into my throat. "Eli volunteered to start sleeping on our couch. They didn’t think I noticed since I never really came out of my room. But about ten minutes after Brett walked out of the house that first night, I heard Eli break down. I didn’t understand it back then, but the sound of this otherwise strong man sobbing lulled me to sleep. I’ll never forget it as long as I live.
"So, yes, Eli fucked up. He did a terrible, horrible thing, but if a terrible, horrible person like myself can’t forgive him, who will?"
"And I love that you feel that way, ángel. But it doesn’t change the fact that he ruined your life. He should have done the right thing to begin with. He should have been a fucking man and not left you for dead." He brushes the hair off my shoulder, trying to offer me his magical comfort, but I’m not the one who needs it tonight.
"You’re not Eli, Leo," I whisper.
"I didn’t say I was," he quickly answers.
"No, but you were thinking it. That’s why you got so pissy earlier, isn’t it?"
"No," he responds, but even though it’s only a single word, I can tell it’s a lie.
"Let me tell you why—" I start, and Leo suddenly lifts me off his lap and shifts me to the couch next to him as he jumps to his feet.
"No! I don’t want you to tell me why. For fuck’s sake, I feel like I’m dating a shrink. I want you to let this shit rip me to shreds because that is what I deserve. Don’t make me feel better. Tell me I’m a fucking piece of shit!"
"Then tell me I’m a piece of shit. Because if you are, I am too!" I shout back at him.
He stares at me for a minute before beginning to pace the room and speaking Spanish so fast that I can’t even pick out a single word.
"Stop speaking in Spanish. If you’re going to talk shit about yourself, at least use words I can understand."
He stills and looks over at me blankly.
"Well, since you don’t seem to be able to adequately express yourself in English, I’m going to be forced to repeat: You. Are. Not. Eli."
"Fuck," he growls, stomping past me into the kitchen.
I flop down on the couch and begin picking at my nails, waiting for him to settle down. It’s not a quick process, so I start scrolling through my phone as I listen to him pace.
"Here," Leo says, walking back into the room, placing a beer and glass of wine down on the table in front of us.
"You know, if I drink that, I’m not leaving."
"Well, it doesn’t appear that you’re leaving anyway," he snarks but then gives me a quick kiss. He grabs his beer off the table before letting out a resigned sigh. "Four years ago, I sat next to Erica as our identities were stripped from us upon entry into the Witness Protection Program. I spent over two hours arguing with them because they tried to separate us. They should have separated us," he quickly clarifies before leaning forward and passing me the wine. "We had formed this completely unhealthy bond—her fears and my need to keep her safe. The whole team was convinced we were romantically involved, because back then, I would sleep on the floor of her hotel room every night. I want to sit here and tell you she needed me. She didn’t. I needed her."
He takes another sip of his beer and I follow suit with my wine.
"She freaked out, screaming and crying, when they told her they couldn’t allow us to be together. I knew they were right. She would have been better off without me, but I was so fucking selfish. I knew I wouldn’t be better without her. So I fought them. I argued them in circles and finally told them we wouldn’t testify if they tried to split us. I didn’t know what the fuck I was going to do. Half of the drug dealers in the country wanted my head for all the incriminating evidence I had against them. But I grabbed her hand and marched out of the office. We got all the way to the street before they thankfully
stopped us. We both would have been dead by the end of the night if they hadn’t. I was just so desperate back then…" he trails off, covering his face with his free hand.
I try to scratch his back, but he shrinks away from my touch. "Leo, that sounds like you were in a really bad situation, but I don’t necessarily think anything you did was wrong. You wanted to protect Erica after everything that happened to her. Can’t you see that it was a somewhat noble thing to do?"
"I had lunch with Caleb today," he announces, suddenly changing the topic.
"I thought you had a business meeting at lunch?"
"I did. It was with Caleb," he answers frankly.
"Um, okay."
"I wanted to ask him about Eli. He applied for one of my open positions. I recognized his name from hearing you talk about him and Casey. I never really got the full picture there though. I knew it was Casey who was driving the car that night, but I didn’t really understand Eli’s role in the accident until today."
"Wait. Why the hell didn’t you just ask me?"
"Because I know you, Sarah. You can forgive everyone in the world except for yourself. I wanted the truth, not your rose-colored version of it."
"That’s not fair. The truth is the truth no matter which way you spin it. He’s not a bad guy because he was trying to protect Casey."
"He left two woman for dead on the side of the road—one of them being my woman."
I let out an exasperated sigh, knowing that this conversation is going nowhere. When he puts it like that, I can’t honestly blame Leo for being pissed.
"Okay, fine. So you don’t like him. Don’t hire him. There are other jobs he can get."
"Sarah, you don’t get it. Yes, Caleb told me all about the chairs and how he really stepped up for Brett. The reason people hate him is not necessarily because of what he did. It’s how he handled it afterward. He befriended the people he’d wronged. Can you just for a second take a step back and look at this whole situation objectively?"
"Fine, yes. It was messed up," I begrudgingly answer.
"Ding, ding, ding," Leo chimes before draining his beer and standing to get another one. "Which is exactly why I wanted to be alone tonight. Eli and I have entirely too much in common. The person I wronged is now my best friend." He walks to the kitchen.
