Her Perfect

by Walls, Stephie

  I was alone. In a bathroom. In a rehab facility. With vomit on my hands and nothing left of my heart. Maybe I’d never made enough effort and just blamed everyone else. It was possible the entire fault fell to me.

  Epiphanies didn’t always come with brilliant light; sometimes they happened in the dark. This was one of those times.

  * * *

  There were always counselors on the clock at Bright Horizons. Twenty-four-seven. Any patient had access to a psychologist. It might not be the one we typically worked with, but one would be available. And it took a lot of effort to pick myself up off that floor to go find that person.

  I’d managed to blow another blood vessel in my eye with that purge, and it was clear I’d spent a substantial amount of time crying. But I’d washed my hands and done my best to clean up my face before I moved the chair away from the door.

  I stopped myself, recognizing how metaphorical that velvet chaise lounge actually was. The comfort of that piece of furniture, the luxurious feel of the fabric on my skin, the barricade it provided to the inner workings of my mind as it kept the door sealed shut. Moving it wasn’t about the physical effort; the strain came from knowing that once I pushed that hurdle aside, ripped off the cushy upholstery, and got rid of the plush pillows that the real work had to begin.

  The pain of that acknowledgment was greater than believing my brother and Jess had betrayed me or that my parents had ignored me. It was more substantial than the loss of Eli’s touch or missing the way he loved me. There was no one on the other side of that door who could do this for me. No one could help shoulder the burden.

  It was entirely up to me.

  I took a deep breath and lifted my hand to the knob. Each step required a monumental effort. I twisted the handle, cracked the door, and then took the first step into recovery.

  And she was a scary bitch.

  She taunted me as I walked down the hall. With each breath I took, recovery reminded me of how hard this would be. I wanted to turn around, go back to the safety of my room. If I could hide from the world until May, then I could leave and never deal with any of this.

  “Hey, Cole—” She hadn’t meant to call my nickname—the one Eli and Caden used—but Raine had stopped herself mid-name when she’d seen my tear-stained cheeks.

  And that was the sign I’d asked God for. That was the mercy He’d sent to show me the way. That was the one thing I’d needed to plead for help.

  My eyes met hers, and the tears started before I could stop them. I cupped my face in my hands and sobbed. Right there in the hall. I let out every fear, every worry, every imperfection that haunted me. Raine wrapped me into a firm embrace, and there she held me until I was able to move. She didn’t try to talk to me or ask what was going on. In some innate way, I believed she knew. Or maybe she’d just dealt with enough basket cases not to need words.

  My legs were wobbly, and my emotions just as unstable.

  “Why don’t we go down to my office,” she whispered into my ear, and her tone reminded me of the way my mom had talked to me when I was little—before she’d forgotten I needed her just like my brothers.

  Raine helped me into a chair and took the one next to me instead of the one behind her desk like she usually did. Then she reached behind her and snagged a blanket from a basket to offer me. There was something comforting about that layer of protection that reassured me I was safe.

  * * *

  After my breakthrough and subsequent breakdown, Emily slipped into my room and closed the door behind her. “I could get fired for this.”

  I sat on my bed cross-legged and stared at the girl I’d not so long ago believed harbored Satan’s spirit. “For coming into a patient’s room?”

  She took it upon herself to get comfortable on my mattress and tossed an envelope into my lap. “No.” She huffed and rolled her eyes. “For that.”

  I picked up the mail and turned it over. The handwriting was as familiar as his kiss.

  “You looked like you could use a pick-me-up.” She might not have had any of the details behind what had gone on in therapy over the last couple weeks, but I was certain she caught wind of patients who finally “got it.” “But if you get caught with it, you didn’t get it from me.” Emily jumped up as quickly as she’d sat down and escorted herself out, closing the door behind her.

  I stared at the mail—at his handwriting—and my heart swelled. Tears came to my eyes. The letter was thick, but it wasn’t a card. I stuck my finger under the flap, not wanting to destroy any piece of Eli that I could physically cling to. Inside, there were several letters.

  As I read, I heard his voice as though he whispered the written words into my ear. One by one, they comforted me, fueled me, and then drove me.

  Even through my silence, Eli hadn’t given up. In fact, he’d made sure that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’d thought of me in everything he did. He told me the parts I would have liked and hated and how he wished I could have shared them with him.

  When everything here is familiar and I still struggle to breathe, I can only imagine how hard it is for you to be away.

  The sky was the color of your eyes today. And I was convinced it was your way of staying with me.

  Even as much as I miss you, I’m immensely proud of the step you’ve taken to be the best you that you can be.

  I only thought I loved you before you left…now I know I’ll never let you go again. Not without me by your side.

  If you get lonely, know that we’re under the same sky with the same stars and moon and that not even the Montagues and the Capulets kept Romeo and Juliet apart. I giggled when I finished the next part. Okay, that might not be the best reference, because you’re not fifteen, neither of us is going to poison ourselves, and our families aren’t at war. But you get the gist of how deep my love for you runs. One day, it will be our story the greats write about.

  Each letter professed a more profound love, an unwavering devotion, a commitment that renewed my desire to see this through. I’d already messed up this week, so there was no hope of a phone call, but I might get to write him a letter if I played my cards right. And maybe at the end of next week, I could hear his voice. After nearly a month, I wondered if I’d be able to contain my excitement.

  * * *

  By the time I’d actually been granted any freedom, I’d been at Bright Horizons for forty-six days, and it felt like Christmas. While I hadn’t been moved out of the dorms—yet—I’d had a large envelope full of mail delivered to me, and in just a few minutes, I’d get to use the phone.

  Unfortunately, the letters were given to me during my counseling session, and Raine felt it necessary to discuss the emotions that seemed to explode from me upon seeing who’d taken the time to write. She didn’t understand why I was shocked to have received anything from Caden and the twins. Nor did she get why my parents would lie regarding my whereabouts. And while I’d anticipated getting in trouble for not doling out all of this information in one of our earlier sessions, she praised me for my openness now. Raine hadn’t given me a hard time or attempted to convince me that I had merely misunderstood my parents’ intent. She listened. She heard me.

  And then she did something no one other than Eli had. She validated me.

  At the end of our session, I realized we’d gone over our appointment slot. Raine hadn’t shut me down or told me we’d resume the conversation the next day. I read a couple of the letters, sitting in front of her. It was obvious my brothers really believed I was out of the country. My parents acted like they believed I was on holiday. It was all superficial, but I didn’t expect different from the boys.

  I had refused to read Eli’s mail in Raine’s office, and I had only skimmed a couple of Jess’s letters. There was a lot of hurt there—on my part anyway. Forgiving her wouldn’t be as simple as her saying she was sorry. And a lot of how I moved forward would depend on how Eli had faired in all of this. Which I still didn’t know because I hadn’t talked to him.

 
At this point, he could be back in Michigan because he’d been fired. I wouldn’t know the difference unless he gave me insight on the phone. School hadn’t been in session during the first week I was here, and those were the only letters Emily had smuggled to me. I wanted to believe that the school board would have called him in before classes started back if, in fact, my parents had reported him, but I couldn’t be certain of anything.

  Seven long weeks had passed since then. Forty-six days was a long time to be out of the loop and away from daily life. In the letters I’d read this afternoon, Eli had mentioned work—so at the very least, he wasn’t unemployed—but only in the vaguest sense. He focused on articles he’d read or books he thought I’d enjoy. Every word was perfectly chosen to bring a smile to my lips and keep worry from my heart.

  He’d written every day, and I now had a pile of his thoughts to go through any time I needed to feel close to him.

  There was a light tap on my door just before Emily stuck her head in. “Phone’s all yours. You’ve got an hour. Use it however you want.” She started to leave but poked back inside. “I’m really proud of you, Colbie. I know it was hard to get here.” Emily referred to having the privilege of phone calls.

  It had been hard, but not because I’d wanted to binge and purge—that had only happened a couple times. The self-exploration here was impossible to avoid. And that journey was more difficult than any nutrition or exercise plan they could have put me on. Because my unhealthy eating habits were a result of my internal disdain and shame. But knowing that didn’t mean I’d fixed any of it—just that I acknowledged it.

  I squealed and nearly fell off the bed, trying to get up. My hair bounced around my shoulders and got in my face as I scrambled to my feet. If Eli had been standing here, this was the time he’d reach out to tuck the tendrils behind my ear. God, I missed him. I raced down the hall in my socks, sliding on the tile floors when I tried to stop.

  “Slow down, Colbie.” Emily giggled and shook her head when I nearly fell, rounding the corner.

  There were several little rooms along a corridor, none of which were bigger than a small closet. However, they contained the most coveted things in the building—resident phones. With one phone on the wall per room and a lounge chair with down cushions, they were comfortable and made for privacy. I took the blanket from the back when I sat, and then I covered myself.

  Suddenly, my heart fluttered with nervous anticipation. Eli had no idea I’d be calling, and there was no guarantee that I’d reach him. Not getting to hear his voice was enough to make my stomach churn.

  I took the cordless phone and dialed the number I’d waited weeks to use. Tears welled in my eyes after the third ring, and my bottom lip quivered on the start of the fourth.

  “Hello?” He was out of breath, and I couldn’t be certain that had been the actual word he’d said.

  “Eli?”

  He huffed into the phone, trying to catch his breath. “Cole? Is that you?” Either the connection was horrible, or Eli was skydiving. “Hang on, baby. Let me get inside.”

  The seconds ticked by, and so did time on the phone’s receiver. It had to have been wind ripping around that caused the static on the call, although I had no idea what he’d be doing.

  And then the line was crystal clear. “Hey. I’m sorry. We have a horrible storm coming, and I was trying to get my patio furniture into the garage. The umbrella’s still out there, but it might have just become a sacrifice to the god of bad weather.” He chuckled, and his laughter filled my chest and wormed its way into my soul.

  “Do you need to go take care of stuff? I can let you go.” Brogdon didn’t typically get hit by hurricanes or tornados, just the wind and rain they brought with them. Those tropical storms could do a lot of damage though. But in February, neither should have been a threat.

  “Not a chance in hell. I don’t care if everything out there blows away.”

  I hadn’t expected this to be awkward, yet now that I had him on the phone, I wasn’t sure what to say. And the seconds of silence unnerved me. “How have you been?” Great, we’d managed to talk about the weather, and I’d asked how he was…. I was a riveting conversationalist.

  “All things considered, I’ve been okay. Hearing your voice just upped okay to fantastic. Jesus, I miss the hell out of you, Cole. Things just aren’t the same without your sassy mouth.”

  “Have you gotten my homework? How’d I do on my test? Oh, and the essay on Poe?” I had turned in my assignments—albeit some were late, and others hadn’t been my best quality—but I didn’t get word back about grades. I wasn’t in danger of failing, that much I knew, but that was where it stopped. The rest was a work in progress.

  “Baby, I don’t want to talk about school or grades or class. I want to know what you’ve been doing for forty-six days—and yes, I’m counting. Tell me about the people you’ve met. Your counselors. Life here is status quo.”

  “Oh, well, I um…I just wanted to make sure—”

  “Colbie, please don’t worry about your grades.”

  “I wasn’t. I just didn’t…” I trailed off, unsure of how to ask what I needed to know without slicing open a wound that might never heal.

  “What? Don’t go shy on me.”

  I licked my lips and debated whether or not to question him. It was something I needed to mark off my list, and the only way I could do that was to ask. “Did you get in trouble at school?” The words raced from my mouth and tumbled into the phone.

  He sighed, which didn’t sound promising. “Shit, I’m sorry. You’ve probably been worried about that since you left, and I haven’t said anything or written about any of it. I didn’t want to bring any of it up.”

  “Oh God…”

  “No. That’s just it. I worried for days—weeks—after classes resumed that Caleb would say something or your parents would call the principal. But nothing.”

  I didn’t want to spend a lot of time contemplating the ins and outs of what that actually meant. “I wonder if that’s their own special brand of torture.”

  Eli’s deep belly laugh rang through the line. “I don’t think so. That was just a special gift that came with purchase. Honestly, Cole. I haven’t heard so much as a peep from your parents, and Caleb steers clear of me at the school.”

  “Are you afraid they’re going to?”

  “At some point, I’m going to have to deal with the situation with both your folks and your brother, but no, I don’t believe they plan to take it to the school district. Although, I can’t say I’d do the same if it were our daughter.”

  I nearly choked on my saliva. “We have kids now?” The broken chortle did nothing to hide my shock.

  “No, clearly not. I’m just saying that I don’t understand. I don’t even have children, but I’m so overly protective of the idea of the ones we will have someday, that I’m blown away by your parents’ indifference. I’d string me up by the balls and threaten any grown man that touched my baby.”

  “Eli…”

  “And God help me. If we have a son, and he doesn’t take it upon himself to handle his best friends to protect his sister, I’ll beat some sibling devotion into him.”

  “Eli.”

  “Don’t Eli me.” His tone had taken on a playful lilt, but there was no doubt in my mind just how serious he was. “Caleb should have beat my ass, Colbie. Plain and simple. And I would have taken it like a man.”

  The thought of my brother and Eli throwing punches at each other was humorous, even if it shouldn’t have been. “Oh yeah? So you’d just let Caleb take some cheap shots and then walk away with your tail between your legs?”

  “Fuck no. I said I’d take it like a man. I didn’t say I was a pussy.”

  I loved hearing him laugh as he talked. The way his voice changed warmed my heart, and I knew every word out of his mouth was true. He would fight for me. And I deserved that kind of love. Coming to that realization had been hard-fought.

  “If it comes down to it, or ever co
mes up before you get home, I promise, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, don’t waste another minute thinking about it. Okay?”

  It was on the list of things I had to work on. Letting go came right after loving myself. Or maybe it was relinquishing control and then letting go. Or, possibly realizing my power of persuasion. I didn’t know. The therapy sessions were endless, and each time I thought I’d made progress, something else came up. “I’ll try.”

  “Is that something they’ve taught you there?”

  I hated that I had to admit these things, but even I knew Eli would have to be part of my healing process, or he’d be part of what hindered me. The only way to allow him to choose which role was to give him information.

  I took a deep breath that I was quite certain he heard. “I’m not sure that I’m quite as great a student here as I am in a real classroom, but yes. I’m learning to prioritize.”

  “Meaning?”

  “That I don’t have to be the best at everything.” I hated even thinking those words, much less saying them. “And that sometimes my best might only be my ability to try something and fail.” And those words were cringe-worthy.

  Eli and I spent the entire hour talking about my therapy and the things the staff here tried to teach me. He joked about how hard-headed I was and said if they’d attach grades to the work, I’d be an honor’s patient. “Oh, shit, Colbie. I’m didn’t mean that.”

  I didn’t interject or tell him it was okay. He’d made the mistake, and I allowed him to be responsible for it.

  “That was insensitive. I shouldn’t have even joked like that. Please forgive me.”

  And instead of getting offended or feeling sorry for myself that someone stopped to correct something they shouldn’t have said, I released him from that burden. “I do.” And it felt freeing.

  Neither of us allowed it to stunt the conversation, and we talked until the very last minute when a voice came on the line to warn me I was out of time.

  “I’ll keep my phone on me at all times. If you can call, I don’t care when it is. Okay, babe?” The disappointment in his tone made my chest constrict.