Dane

by Leddy Harper

  Janette covered my hand with hers, preventing me from lifting the phone. “Dane, you can’t check in on everyone in this building. I know you mean well, but she’s a young woman—and your assistant. I’m only telling you this because I’m your publicist and it’s my job, but you should probably leave her alone. Sometimes, you can come off as hovering.”

  I scoffed at her and rolled my eyes. “You think I hover? Do you know me at all?”

  “I know how you are when you care about someone.”

  “I care about all my employees, Janette.”

  “You’re right. You absolutely do. But think about how it’ll look to others. How often do you call me to see how I’m doing? I left work an hour early last week. Did I get a phone call from you? No. I’m sure you can ask every department here and you’ll find at least one person who’s missed work in the past month, and I can bet money you didn’t call a single one of them.”

  I leaned back in my chair and ran my hand over my chin. “What are you saying, Janette?”

  She grabbed the strap of her office bag and slung it over her shoulder. With her hand on her hip, she said, “I’m not saying anything other than you need to treat Eden like everyone else. I understand she’s your assistant and you work more closely with her than others in this building, but you need to be careful.”

  “You don’t know her. She’s not like that. You’re making it sound like she’ll accuse me of something, and I know her better than that. She wouldn’t.” I became defensive, and I knew it showed in my tone. But I couldn’t hide it. I didn’t like the silent accusations of what Janette insinuated.

  “This is my job and it’s what you pay me to do. I look out for what’s best for the company and your image. And I never said Eden would do anything to jeopardize that. But you have plenty of other people who work for you…and you never know if one of them might feel a little jealous of your relationship with the young female you keep by your side. The one you stole from another department. The same one you spent the entire company beach party with. In plain sight of your entire staff, I might add. Keep your nose clean. That’s all I’m saying, Dane.”

  I nodded to appease her and remained quiet until she left my office. Once the door was closed behind her, I reached for the phone again and quickly dialed Eden’s number. The entire time, Janette’s concerns echoed in my head. While I pressed the phone number I’d memorized by heart, I heard her warning. As the line rang in my ear, I thought about what others possibly saw between Eden and me. Guilt once again ate away at me. It seemed to be part of the perpetual pattern of my life these days. But it all faded away the moment her voicemail picked up. Panic instantly took over.

  It was only four thirty, but I didn’t care. I turned off my computer and grabbed my keys, desperate to find her. I left work and headed straight for Eden’s apartment complex with my heart pounding more ferociously with each second that passed. It wasn’t until I found her car safely tucked in the parking garage that I finally began to calm. But only slightly, because I still didn’t know if she was okay. Fluke accidents and awful scenarios started to rush forward. I fought the urge to jump out of my car and sprint upstairs. But then something hit me.

  I had no idea which apartment was hers, and I couldn’t very well go to every floor and knock on every door. Luck must have been on my side because as soon as I parked and got out of my car, I spotted a flash of red hair disappearing down the walkway toward the beach.

  “Are you okay?” I asked breathlessly once I caught up to her.

  Eden turned around, her eyes wide with surprise, lips slightly parted. “What are you doing here, Dane?”

  I took her by the shoulders and held her still so I could assess her physically. Instead of the work clothes she’d had on earlier, she’d changed into shorts and a tank top, her feet bare. I realized how out of place I must’ve seemed in my button-down shirt and tie, slacks, and polished shoes—which were now filled with sand. Normally, my rolled-up sleeves gave me a slightly casual appearance, but not when standing on a beach amongst others half-naked in bathing suits or shorts.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Eden whispered, pulling me back to the present.

  “I know, but I was worried about you. You left without saying a word. Why?”

  “I was done for the day, and you were in a meeting. Otherwise, I would’ve told you I was leaving. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I didn’t think going home an hour early would bother you. I’ve done it before.”

  I sighed once I realized how much I’d overreacted to the situation at hand. Janette was right—I should’ve let it go. I was over involved. Eden was right—I shouldn’t have been here. If anyone at the office knew I’d shown up at my assistant’s home and then chased her onto the beach, only to make sure she was okay after leaving one hour early…they’d have a field day. I couldn’t chance that. It was a risk I couldn’t afford to take.

  “I’m sorry. I know things have been weird lately, so I wanted to make sure you were all right. And I had planned to introduce you to Janette. Everything’s been so hectic at the office lately with these buyouts, and I wanted to make sure you two had the chance to meet face to face.”

  Her grin toyed at the corners of her mouth. “I’ve met Janette already, Dane. She’s your publicist—of course I’ve met her. Not to mention, I was supposed to have been working for her…remember? I think I’ve met almost everyone in the building—or, at least, the ones I should know. There are a few people in the mailroom I haven’t met yet. Feel free to introduce me to those tomorrow.” Her giggle drowned out the crashing waves on the shore, and settled a layer of peace over me. Amazing what a good dose of laughter could provide.

  “So you’re okay? You dipping out early has nothing to do with me or our conversation this morning?”

  She raked her teeth over her bottom lip and glanced down the beach, avoiding eye contact. That in itself was enough of an answer, but I needed to hear her say it. I desperately needed the words so I could make it right. I didn’t know how I’d do that, but I couldn’t allow things to continue this way. Knowing she was holding back and not speaking her mind kept me from moving forward—from moving on. I had to stop questioning my decisions and our relationship, and I couldn’t do that when I knew Eden had views she refused to share with me. Prior to having her in my life, I never questioned anything, but now I questioned nearly everything. I felt alive for the first time in ages. And that had to stand for something. I needed her to help me find the answers that would put an end to this nightmare.

  “Just tell me, Eden. Be honest with me. That’s all I want. Even if it’s something I don’t care to hear. I value your outlook on things, and right now, I really need brutal honesty from someone before I go crazy.”

  “Why would you go crazy? You told me this morning you made up your mind. Right?”

  I huffed and shoved my hands into my pants’ pockets, rocking on the heels of my shoes that were now covered completely in the sand. “You’re absolutely right…I did. But I can’t help the feeling you disagree. And if you do, then I’d like to know why. If I make a bad decision at work, I’d expect you to call me out on it, right?”

  “That’s not the same thing, Dane, and you know it.” Her voice escalated and I couldn’t miss the raw irritation in her tone. “We’re not talking about work here. This isn’t about a company that needs saving. This is your life, with your fiancée, and my validation doesn’t mean jack shit in the end. What does it matter how I feel about it? Whether I think you made the right call or not has no bearing on anything. It’s nothing more than an opinion…like an asshole—everyone has one. So mine holds just as much weight as that guy over there.” She pointed to a man walking down the beach. “Go tell him your problems and see what he thinks you should do.”

  I should’ve walked away. Right then and there, I should’ve said goodbye and headed home. But I didn’t. Because for some unknown reason, I couldn’t leave things alone when it came to Eden. I needed to hear her tel
l me my reasons for staying with Gabi were accurate.

  “I just want your viewpoint, Eden. I trust you, and you’re the only one who knows any of it. I’ve never told anyone else anything about my relationship—only you. So asking anyone else would be pointless.”

  “Well, asking me is equally as pointless. But if validation from me is what you need to justify your decision, then fine. Here it goes. You love Gabi. You’ve said it over a dozen times. You’ve loved her since you were young. You two have been together for…what, twelve years now? You’ve been through the lowest lows and the highest highs. More importantly than that, she needs you, and I think you enjoy having someone depend on you like she does. I think it gives your life meaning to have someone need you. It drives you. You were perfectly content before you met me, and you’ll be fine after I’m gone. You made the right call, Dane. You should stay with her.” She stared into my eyes for an unbroken moment, and then began to walk back toward her building.

  I was left staring at her footprints in the sand. Her words washing through me like the tide—calming yet powerful enough to sink a ship. I shouldn’t have held her opinion in such high regard, but I couldn’t help it. I felt like my mind wouldn’t have been so twisted had she never come into my life. So in essence, she had set my mental turmoil in motion.

  Before making my way to my car in her parking garage, I grabbed my phone from my pocket and typed out a text. You’re right. I’ve put you in a bad position, and I’m sorry. From now on, I’ll keep my personal business to myself and keep you out of it. You’re my employee, and I’m your boss. Simple as that. See you tomorrow morning. I hit send and left.

  I ended up walking through my front door at the same time I did every day after work. Gabi sat on the couch, but instead of a book in her hand, she had the computer in her lap. She glanced at me and closed the lid—I should’ve thought more about it, but I was too sidetracked with my own thoughts.

  I grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat down in the living room across from her. As I took my first swig, letting the cold liquid chill a path to my stomach, I took in Gabi’s expression. Her brows were drawn and she worried her lip between her teeth. At least her cheeks were free of dried tears and her eyes weren’t swollen from hours of crying. This was new, but I wasn’t sure if it was for the better.

  “What’s wrong, Gabs? You look worried about something.”

  In an instant, her expression changed. The lines on her forehead vanished and her eyes cleared, as if I’d pulled her out of some distant thought and brought her back to the present. “Dr. Greiner has me doing homework. He thinks it’ll help me deal with things between appointments.”

  “What does he have you working on?” It felt odd to sit here and have a normal conversation with Gabi. It hadn’t happened in so long. Any conversation we’d had involved me trying to comfort her, or it was an argument about her depression.

  “As you know, we’ve been discussing my mom. Apparently, he kept all the notes from previous visits—when I used to see him before the baby. He says my depiction of her now doesn’t match what it was a year ago. It seems I’ve forgotten things, or they might’ve gotten mixed up in my memories.”

  “You mean he thinks you’ve suppressed a lot of it?”

  She nodded and visibly bit the inside of her cheek, staring at me as though she were lost in thought again. I wondered if she’d relented and accepted medical stimulants to help her through this.

  “So what’s the homework? Anything I can help you with?”

  “No. He asked me to write down everything I remember, in the order I remember it, and then I have to go through it when I’m done. I was reading through old emails from her, from after my stepdad died.” A slow stream of air slipped past her lips as she let her head fall to the back of the couch. Staring up at the ceiling, she said, “It’s exhausting.”

  “Well, I’ve got to give it to you, Gabs…I’m very proud of you. You’re going through old emails and working through memories of her and you’re not crying. Or drinking. I’d say that shows a lot of improvement. How are you feeling—aside from exhausted?” I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I felt so content talking to Gabi. Things started to seem normal again, and even though I knew I shouldn’t get my hopes up, I couldn’t help it.

  It felt like the dawn of a new day.

  She met my gaze and offered a ghost of a smile. It wasn’t much, but it was more than I’d seen in over seven months. “He gave me anti-anxiety medication. I know, I know. I said I wouldn’t take any pills, but this is different. I’m not taking them every day, and they don’t make me feel like a zombie. He gave them to me yesterday and told me to take them if I started to feel out of control. I figured I needed one in order to take this trip down memory lane.”

  I set my beer down and slid to the floor in front of her, edging my way between her legs. I gripped her hips and stared into her eyes, making sure she could see me while I spoke to her. I needed her to understand how proud of her I was. “Gabi…you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. I know this isn’t what you want to do. I know drudging up old memories of your mom and what happened to you is the last thing in the world you want to be doing, but I know when it’s all said and done, you’ll be happier for it. I love you so much.” I meant it. I did love her. More than she’d ever know.

  “I love you, too, Dane. I don’t care to think about where I’d be without you.”

  I smiled and pressed a kiss to her thigh. “You don’t ever have to worry about that.”

  She set the computer down long enough to help me with dinner and eat, but as soon as the dishes were put away, she went straight to the couch. I didn’t complain, though. I knew she needed this. We needed it. I’d let her sit there in front of her computer for as long as necessary if it meant things would go back to being normal again.

  Instead of taking my evening walk down the beach or sitting on the pier, I stayed inside with Gabi in case she needed me. I never wanted her to feel like she had to go through this alone. Just after sundown, she headed to the spare bedroom with her laptop. She said she had to plug it in, and I didn’t question it, figuring she sought some alone time. Gabi remained there all night, and I eventually went to bed without her. I didn’t want to bother her, worried I’d interrupt her progress. So I left the living room lamp on and retreated to our bedroom. I took a quick shower and then climbed into bed—and not once did Eden cross my mind. The only thing I thought about was Gabi and how excited I was to see life enter her eyes again. To see her do more than cry and hide away in bed. Instead of losing herself in fiction, she buried herself in the work her therapist had given her, and nothing made me happier than that.

  I closed my eyes and fell asleep to thoughts of my life falling back into place.

  And then I dreamt of the brighter days ahead.

  12

  I had always believed in signs, but never paid attention to them until it was too late.

  On your way to work, the light you’re waiting on to turn green never changes. You get mad. It was clearly your turn to go, but the light remained red while everyone else took their turn. You curse the crimson bulb hanging on a cable as if it has feelings. But there’s another side to that coin. There could be a reason the light never turned green. It’s entirely possible fate stepped in and kept you from getting hit by another car. Maybe some other driver two miles down the road was on the phone and not paying attention, which could’ve resulted in a head-on collision had you gone through the light. You don’t think about things like that when they happen. No. All you think about is how you missed your turn.

  The next morning was exactly like that for me.

  I either forgot to set my alarm or I turned it off without actually fully waking up. Either way, I was late. I became alerted to the sun peeking in through the blinds and sat up, noticing the other side hadn’t been slept on. I sifted through my fuzzy mind and remembered Gabi being in the spare bedroom when I went to sleep. So I climbed out of bed and heade
d across the house to check on her.

  I found her curled up in the middle of the mattress, an empty wine bottle on the table next to her. A box sat opened on the floor, papers spilling out and scattered around the room. On the bed next to her sleeping form was her laptop. It was opened but the screen was dark. My heart ached for her, thinking about her spending all night going through daunting memories of some of her darkest days. The wine worried me, but I wasn’t surprised. I only wished she had turned to me instead of drowning her pain in alcohol.

  Knowing she probably stayed up half the night, I moved around the room as quietly as possible, gathering the loose sheets of paper to put back in the box. Not once did I think about the box or wonder where it had come from. Not even when the piece of paper sitting on top caught my attention. I knelt down next to it with the other papers in my hand, and grabbed the one on top.

  It was a printout of an online article, dated more than ten years ago. I didn’t need to read it—I remembered it, and the others just like it. Sean Williamson had been arrested for the brutal rape of his underage neighbor, Gabriella Rios. The entire article talked about his arrest, and his cries of innocence. Even now, seeing the reports made me angry all over again. I couldn’t imagine how Gabi felt after going through this.

  Disregarding the other papers, I put them all back into the box and closed the lid. I grabbed her laptop with the intention of putting it away too, but before I could, the screen came to life. I don’t know what I expected to find. Maybe something about her mother or old emails, like what she said she’d been looking at yesterday. But that’s not what I found. Piercing blue eyes stared back at me from the computer screen. A full-colored photo of Sean Williamson. His mug shot. Next to it was a more recent picture. His eyes weren’t as bright and wrinkles now lined his weathered skin. The same scowl appeared in both images, although the one in his mug shot screamed anger, whereas the newer photo simply showed a despondent man who’d lost everything.