by J. A. Howell
Dillan closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of the sunlight shining through the glass onto her cheeks. She let her mind wander to Jamie, and to who she used to be. Her life used to be full of color, excitement, and passion. Now... everything felt mundane, nothing excited her, and her world felt as murky and bland as the old scrubs she was wearing. It still felt impossible that she could ever be that girl again, given everything that she had experienced in the last year. Death marrs even the toughest of hearts, but maybe she could find some new sort of happiness elsewhere. She was right at the edge of wanting to move on, but she was deeply afraid of taking that leap of faith required to do so. Dillan knew it was time, and she was just trying to figure out how to make that leap.
“We’re here ma'am.” The cab driver politely interrupted her thoughts as she opened her eyes and looked up at him. Dillan nodded, paid the driver, and climbed out of the cab. She stared up at the building that seemed to tower over her menacingly. It had now become just another haunting reminder of the worst nights of her life. Dillan drew in a slow breath before heading toward the door. Kay was waiting for her on the front stoop.
Despite how antisocial Dillan had been in the past year, Kay was the one friend that kept trying to reach out to her, regardless of how many times Dillan blew her off or pushed her away. She could not understand why Kay still remained, but Dillan knew she had been taking her friend for granted. She had been so busy lost in the memory of Jamie, and mourning her loss to realize she had someone like Kay wanting to stick around. Someone like her that would stand by her throughout all of this. As Dillan climbed the steps to the door, Kay offered a sympathetic smile and gently hugged her, aware of her still healing wounds.
“It feels like it's been forever since I’ve seen you Dillan,” Kay sighed, a relieved smile crossing her lips as she pulled away. “I've missed you. And I’m so sorry about what happened to you at work.”
“I’ve missed you too.” Dillan smiled at her friend. As they entered the waiting elevator and the doors closed, Dillan silently reassured herself. Once they had reached her floor, she saw a bright new wooden door in the place of the one that was ruined on the night she was taken. The new door only continued to remind her of the one Carlos had broken through. Even the new deadbolt did not bring her comfort. He hadn't picked the lock to get in.
“It's over sweetie...they’re dead...remember that. It's going to be okay.” Kay reassured her, resting a hand on her shoulder, sensing the fear Dillan was giving off. Dillan willed herself forward and Kay pulled a key from her pocket, unlocking the door for her and holding it open.
As Dillan entered into the apartment, she saw that Kay had straightened it up for her. The apartment appeared abnormally tidy and seemingly untouched. As if nothing had ever happened. Her eyes fell to the spot where Jamie had died. He was still there. That had still happened.
Regardless of any changes, a new door, new paint, or different furniture, the apartment would always be the place where Jamie was killed. But not every memory in this place was bad... it was also littered with many happy memories. She would take her time, basking in the good memories, but she would start making arrangements to get rid of this place.
“Are you still going to put the place up for sale?” Kay asked, as if reading her thoughts.
“Yes. Within the next week or so I think.” Dillan nodded. Kay had mentioned the idea to her in the hospital the other day, considering that now two horrible memories haunted the place. While she hadn't wanted to push it, Kay felt as though that was what Dillan should have done long ago. Kay didn't have to say anything else. They both knew that after everything that had happened, the time for Dillan to let the place go had finally come.
“You know, we can always stay at my place tonight.” Kay suggested as she watched Dillan's eyes search the room warily.
“I know,” she replied, with a sigh, “But I need to say goodbye. I still need some time to sort through everything here.” As much as Kay thought Dillan’s staying here was the last thing her friend needed, she knew better than to challenge her. Despite Dillan’s own opinions of herself and her own weakness, Kay stood in awe of her for everything she had endured.
“I need to go take a bath... and relax.” Dillan said quietly. She was pleased that despite her injuries, she was allowed that one luxury.
“I'll start something for dinner.” Kay volunteered cheerfully. “You go relax, you need it.” Kay turned toward the kitchen and Dillan started toward her bedroom. She paused again, just as she had outside the front door. The memory of her poorly aimed shots, as well as the ensuing rage from Carlos flooded back into her memory as she placed her hand on the door.
He's dead. You killed him, she reminded herself. Still the irrational fear of him waiting behind the door was there. It's okay Dillan, he's gone...it’s all over, she told herself again. With the deepest breath she could muster with a broken rib, she pushed her bedroom door open, her eyes expertly sweeping the room for anything, or anyone. Nothing.
Her bedroom was like the rest of the apartment. Clean, tidy, and undisturbed. Traces of her struggle with Carlos were erased. The memory crept back into her head, but she quickly pushed them away. She was on a mission when she entered the room. She wanted a bath badly, and desperately. After spending days in the hospital all she wanted was to shampoo and condition her hair. It was currently a greasy mass on her head.
Bath, bath, bath, she told herself, now unable to think of anything else. She went to her dresser and pulled open the middle drawer, grabbing a white cotton cami and some soft flannel pajama pants. She held them up to her face, breathing in the fresh citrus scent of her laundry detergent before turning back toward the door.
It was then that she realized not everything in her bedroom had gone undisturbed. The sun that peered through her white flowy curtains illuminated a bundle of letters that rested on her bedside table. Where did those come from? They weren’t there before. She cautiously stepped closer to them, as if they posed another threat, like a ticking time bomb on her nightstand.
She picked up the stack, eyeing them suspiciously. The letter on the top had no return address, no address at all. Just "Dillan", scrawled on the front of it. She pursed her lips thoughtfully, wondering if she should read it.
Curiosity got the better of her and she slid the envelope out from under the tan rubber bands that held the stack together. She paused as she slipped her finger under the envelope flap to rip it open, wondering still, if the contents of them would only serve to upset her. She bit her lip nervously, then continued to rip open the envelope. Before she could unfold the first letter, Kay was knocking on her door.
“Sweetie, are you alright?” she asked from the hallway. “I started your bath for you.”
“Thanks Kay, I'm fine, I'll be there in a second.” She answered back, grabbing the folded letter and the rest of the stack, and taking them with her as she scooped up her pajamas. When she stopped to grab a towel from her linen closet, she could smell the scent of steam and lavender floating out from the bathroom.
The soothing scent of her bath seemed to reach out and coax her in. She smiled at her friend’s thoughtfulness before pushing the door open. Dillan gladly discarded the nasty scrubs as she watched the claw-foot tub fill with bubbly warm water. Kay had made sure it was nice and hot, the way Dillan liked it. The steam ran over the sides of the white porcelain as she placed the bundle of letters on the small table next to her tub. Dillan gingerly slipped into the steaming bath, submerging herself in the water until it almost reached her shoulders.
Dillan closed her eyes, and briefly dunked her head under the water, staying below for just a second. She let the heat fully engulf her, allowing the tension in her muscles to melt away. As she sat back up, slowly lifting her head out of the water, she wiped her hands dry with a hand towel, then picked up the first letter again.
Dear Dillan,
I know as soon as you realize who this is from you will no longer want to read it, or the
rest of the letters for that matter. You owe me nothing, and what I owe you can never be repaid in this lifetime. Still, I am begging you to read these. I am not doing this for forgiveness, as you have every right to never forgive me for what I did to you, or the pain that I have caused you. I am doing this for you; because at the very least, I owe this to you. These letters aren’t from me, they were sent to me from Jamie when we were still trying to hold onto what was left of our family in secret, after we were separated and put under witness protection. That was when he had found you.
You became such a bright light in my brother's life, that it made my existence just a little less grey each time I got one of these letters from him. I can only hope that in parting with these mementos of my brother, that it makes me a little less of a villain in your eyes. These are all the letters my brother ever sent me. Most were about his life with you. I know I will never be able to bring him back, and I will never be a replacement for him. But maybe these letters can bring a little of him back to you, or at the very least offer you a candid view of how he felt, and how you made him feel. Maybe it will help you realize how full you made his life even though it was cut short. Maybe the heaviness of your broken heart will ease a little once you see that he is still around you.
I am so sorry that I was the reason he was taken from you, and the reason that he had to lie about his past to you. I wish I could bring him back and take his place. But this is the best I can do. I can give you his words and leave you to live your life, so that maybe you can find love and happiness once more.
Goodbye Dillan. I wish you all the best.
- Trey
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Dillan's eyes lingered on the last line, on the name scrawled at the end of the letter. Trey...the person she wanted to loathe most right now, yet his words rendered her defenseless. It would be easier to think of him as some monster and be able to hate him for the rest of her life. But he was making it impossible. She placed the letter on the table, and carefully slid the first one out from under the rubber band. Jamie's familiar handwriting stared back at her as she unfolded the paper.
As she started to read she could practically hear Jamie's voice, playing narrator, reading through all the times they had shared together. From the first time he laid eyes on her, to their moving in together, and all the way up until he had decided that he wanted to marry her. Each letter brought back all the tiny moments that painted their life together in vivid color. She felt as though she was watching a movie play out before her eyes. Their movie.
A few stray tears rolled down her cheeks as she read each letter, taking in his words, hearing his voice. Seeing their life together through his eyes, how he had remembered her. She didn't know if the tears were from happiness or sadness anymore. He was there with her, telling her how much he loved her, and how he knew that she was the one for him. In the last year, he hadn't felt this close, even in the dreams that haunted and teased her with his presence.
Her eyes finally ran over the last words of the last letter, and it was as if he was sitting there with her. As if he was cradling her, enveloping her body with his. Laying her head back against the cool porcelain, she completely lost herself in his presence. Going back to a better time, back to their life before. She knew that this would be the last time. She had to let him go, and at the same time let herself go. If he were really there, really holding her, she knew that he would be telling her the same thing. After all, if she had been the one that had died, she wouldn't want him agonizing over her for the rest of his life. She would want him to be happy. She would want him to be free.
Dillan found herself curling into him, or the illusion of him anyways. She stared up into his eyes one last time as he held her. She had wished desperately that things had not turned out this way, but she had spent the last year wishing for things she knew would never change. She spent the last year in a numbed haze of medication and alcohol only to realize that there would not be any do-overs, or any rewinding of her life. She could never return to her old life with him.
She lay there a bit longer, partially covered by the now tepid water as a couple more tears silently fell and mixed with the bathwater. As Jamie slowly started to fade away she realized too, that she could no longer afford to keep him in the forefront of her mind.
"Goodbye" she softly whispered as her eyes stared blankly at the side of the tub, no longer looking at him, no longer looking at anyone.
She remained still, resting until the water started to feel cold and stagnant. The bubbles had dissolved and though the scent of lavender still hung in the air, it too had faded significantly. She sat up slowly, glancing around the bathroom, noting that the room seemed to be void of something else. Emptier, colder. Sure the temperature could be attributed to the hot steam escaping through the vents, but Dillan knew it was something more; something else had left the room.
Dillan stood up, holding onto the sides of the tub, and carefully climbing out. The cool air on her wet skin formed goose bumps down her arms and back as she reached for her towel, wrapping it around her naked body. She dried off her body before toweling her hair so that it was no longer dripping down her back. After she had dressed, she took a quick glance in the mirror to reassess her appearance since the hospital. She felt somewhat better anyways. She grabbed the stack of letters from the table beside the tub before heading back out of the safety of her bathroom. As soon as she stepped out of the doorway, the aroma of something baking in the oven greeted her nose. Kay smiled at her from the kitchen as she prepared something else; chopping away and ever so often wiping her hands on the apron she was wearing. This made Dillan smile, and it continued to reminder her about the reasons why she needed to move forward. She padded across the living room toward the kitchen to further investigate Kay' cooking skills.
“I made tater-tot hot dish.” She grinned at Dillan, answering the question before it was asked.
“And, a salad.”She nodded at the sliced tomatoes on the wooden chopping board. Dillan knew she had recognized the smell coming from the oven. The mixture of roasting vegetables and potatoes, with cream of mushroom soup created such a deliciously savory smell. She had remembered Kay cooking this several times during college and she had always thoroughly enjoyed it.
“Thanks Kay, you have already done too much. This is really great” Dillan smiled. Kay smiled back at her as she dumped the chopped vegetables into a big wooden bowl filled with leafy green lettuce. She didn't need to say anything. Ever since they were younger, Kay had always taken enjoyment in doing things to comfort others.
“I see you found the stack of letters.” She nodded toward the bundle of disheveled papers in Dillan's hand. “They were sitting on the floor underneath your bed when I came to clean everything up. I wasn't sure if they were important or not.”
“They were." Dillan nodded, "I needed to read them, I'm glad you found them.”
“I hope the hospital food didn't spoil your appetite.” She mused playfully. Dillan smiled back and rolled her eyes. The food at the hospital had been nothing short of terrible. She had barely eaten while she was there, only when someone was standing over her. She walked over to the table and pulled out one of the wooden chairs, sitting across from Kay. She took a sip of sweet tea that had been placed out as she eyed the dinner Kay had prepared.
“I cannot tell you how long it's been since I’ve had some of your famous cooking.” Dillan sighed as she put her glass down and picked up her fork. “I know I might have already said this, but thank you.” Kay only shrugged, as if it was nothing at all to come play Dillan's babysitter.
“So...if you don't mind me asking...what were those letters for?” Kay asked after a few minutes. Dillan took another bite then looked across the table at Kay.
“They were letters that Jamie had written to his brother.” Kay looked intrigued, placing her fork down and taking a sip of tea as she continued to watch Dillan.
“Trey must have left them here for me to read. He thought it would help me
to read all the things Jamie wrote about me.” Dillan took another bite, looking down at her plate. He must have brought them the night that Carlos showed up, she thought to herself. It would explain why he had shown up with her gun and her motorcycle.
“Did they?” Kay raised an eyebrow. She had not been very happy about what had transpired between Trey and Dillan. Kay only knew that he had lied to Dillan about almost everything and had nearly gotten her killed. Kay was not his biggest fan.
“They did. It surprised me actually. It was like seeing our whole relationship flash before my eyes once more but through Jamie’s. It was nice...” Dillan sighed. “Maybe I should go see him. Maybe I shouldn’t have thrown him out like I did”.
“But he lied to you, and he did almost get you killed... does one good deed excuse a lifetime of bad ones?” Kay voiced her concern, staring now into Dillan's eyes, her lips forming a tight line as her forehead pinched together with worry.
“I honestly don’t know.” Dillan shrugged. She used to think she had all the answers, but things no longer were just black and white. Neither she nor Kay said much else for the duration of dinner. Afterwards, Dillan decided to excuse herself back to her bedroom.
“Let me know if you need anything else.” Kay didn’t question her, knowing she was still recovering. Dillan headed for her bedroom and gently laid herself down on the bed. As much as she wanted to sleep and as much as her sore body ached for it, her mind was wide awake and it kept wandering back to thoughts of Trey. Thirty minutes passed. Then an hour. Giving up on an escape into slumber, she pulled herself back up, looking around her room. Without much thought, she got up, opened the closet door, and looked at Jamie’s side of the closet. Everything looked just has it had the day he died.
Leaning into his clothes that were still hanging up, she pressed her nose against the fabric and breathed in the faded scent of his favorite cologne. She was terrified of letting this place go, and letting him go with it. But she had to start, and being unable to sleep, there was no better time than the present. Her fingers gripped several hangers of clothing from his rack, then placed them in a pile on her chaise.
