Salvage

by Tiffany Aleman

  “Yes, she was.” I nudge her shoulder with mine and purse my lips. “Speaking of relationships… How are things between you and Ray?”

  A slow grin lifts her lips, and her eyes light up. “Very. Well.” She waggles her eyebrows, and I burst into laughter. “If you know what I mean.”

  “How did you make him see reason?”

  “I tied his ass up, of course,” she answers, deadpanned.

  My hands clutch at my side as a stitch forms from laughing so hard. “Oh my God, I can only imagine what he thought.” I puff out my cheeks to help alleviate the ache in the tight muscle. I take deep breaths in and out in hopes of catching my breath.

  “At first he wasn’t happy. I mean, I’m on top of his body, buck ass naked, and all he can talk about is work. I asked him if he was having an affair. If I wasn’t cutting it for him anymore.”

  “What did he say?” I ask, any trace of laughter gone.

  “I knew that wasn’t the case when he looked like I had slapped him, but he still answered with a no. He said with making partner and his workload piling up, he felt like he could barely keep stay afloat.”

  “So what’s he going to do about it?”

  “We’re going to Paris next month for a whole two weeks, so I’m putting in my vacation request.” She winks.

  I pull her into a hug, and she returns the embrace. “I’m sure we can work something out, I happen to know the manager.”

  She chuckles and I release her from my clutch. “I’m happy things are going well for you again.” And I mean it. Even though my love life may be in shambles, I love seeing my best friend happy.

  “Me too.”

  The silence settles around us. It’s easy and relaxing like it’s always been. Sometimes, no words need to be said to get a point across. Being at this lake with my best friend, this is her way of saying I’m here for you. When we were in high school and life’s burdens got too heavy to bear, she’d drive us out here and we’d just… be. We’d let the silence say what neither of us wanted to acknowledge.

  “Karmen?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re going to be okay. You know that, right?”

  I turn my attention to my best friend and smile a closed-lip smile and nod. “This isn’t my first scar left behind from Brayden Stephens, Tam. It won’t be my last either.” I reach across the dirt and place my hand on top of hers. “Plus, I have you. You’ve never been one to sit back and watch me drown.”

  “Will you tell me when you’re tired of swimming?” I know she means will I come to her when I need someone to pull me from the deep.

  I lift my hand, tuck all of my fingers into a fist but my pinky. She follows my lead. We interlock our fingers. “Promise,” I answer before kissing my thumb.

  No matter what my future holds I know I will always have one constant and that’s this crazy chick sitting next to me. Through thick and thin she’s always been by my side. She’s picked me up at my lowest of lows and flown high with me during my highest of highs. Whether Brayden is in my future or becomes a jagged scar from my past, again, it may take time. But I know I will be fine because I have one of the strongest people I know in my corner.

  Tense?

  Strained?

  Stifling?

  Not a single one of those words adequately describes the situation between Karmen and me. The situation I created. The air between us is thick with hostility. It’s suffocating at times. Animosity eats me alive, poisoning any good Karmen ever saw in me. It’s ruining any semblance of a relationship we had left between us. If I can feel the end approaching, I’m positive she can too.

  The end of us, I don’t know how to stop it.

  The past couple of months have been hell for me. When I came home from the reception after my father’s funeral, Karmen took my hand and pulled me into her bed and just held me. No words were exchanged between us. I bathed in the comfort she offered even if I didn’t feel like I deserved it. Now, we rarely speak, and when we do it’s nothing of substance. We’re hardly friends anymore. When she used to look at me, her eyes would light up. My direction, she no longer looks. I don’t sleep with her at night anymore. Hell, sometimes I don’t even bother to come home. It’s not that I’m out fucking other women. No. I’m at home, my mother’s house, listening to the sound of her cries echo throughout the empty shell of her home. For some strange reason, her cries gut me and heal me at the same time. Because I have yet to cry for the man who raised me with fists and slaying insults.

  Smoke wafts through the air, swirling and twisting, creating a thick fog from the cigars we’re all smoking. Guys that I don’t really know, that I met at the bar surround the green felt table in the middle of the living room. I knew Karmen was going out to dinner with Tammy tonight, I overheard her on the phone earlier today. Thus the reason for my impromptu poker game going on right now.

  “I’ll raise you ten.” I toss a couple of chips into the pile on the middle of the table. I lean back in my chair because I know I have a winning hand. None of these fuckers can beat my flush of spades Ace high. I take a pull off my Corona and follow it down with a shot of tequila.

  “Call,” Jake says from my left. The other guys sitting around the table say the same. The door slams shut as I lay my cards down on the table. I already know who it is so there’s no need for me to look.

  “What. The. Hell?” Karmen says over the chatter in the room. I look back over my shoulder and her pissed off eyes are trained solely on me.

  “Hey,” I slur and lift my hand to wave, but it falls flat. I try to grin at her, but I’m not sure I’m able to pull that off either. In my drunken state, I don’t think I can pull anything off.

  Her eyes are wide and her chest heaves with deep breaths. I think I even see a vein popping out in the middle of her forehead. Fuck she’s beautiful when she’s pissed.

  “Who’s the chick?” The guy across from me asks, gaining my attention.

  I look at him before looking back at Karmen. “My roommate.”

  The words slip out before I even have a chance to recognize what I’ve said. Her head snaps back like I’ve struck her. Her beautiful eyes close and her face pinches with hurt. But I say nothing, and neither does she.

  “She’s one hot piece of ass.” The guy whose name to my right I can’t remember laughs.

  Jealousy sweeps in and I lean my head side to side, cracking my neck. I reach up and slap him on the back of his head.

  He rubs at the spot giving me a dubious look. “Hey! What the hell was that for?”

  “For disrespecting her that way,” I growl. The hypocritical thought of how I’ve been disrespecting her for the past couple of months doesn’t surpass me.

  He holds his hands up in surrender, his eyes wide. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean no disrespect.”

  I roll my eyes and turn back to look at Karmen. “Would you like to join us?” I ask, but I’m sure that’s not how it sounded.

  She looks around the table, her eyes landing on each person before they stop on me. “Are you fucking serious?” Her tone is deathly calm, and it takes me by surprise.

  “I think it’s about time to go,” a few of the guys start to murmur.

  “Yeah.” Karmen nods. “It’s definitely time for you to go.” She hasn’t moved from in front of the door, but judging by her stance she looks like she’s ready for a fight.

  “Oh come on,” I laugh. “I’m only having a friendly game of poker.”

  “Get out.” Her glare is trained on me when she says it, but I’m not really sure if she’s talking to me or the other guys.

  When they don’t move, her hands drop from her hips, down to her sides, her fists clench in a white-knuckle grip. “Get. The. Fuck. Out!” she yells. The veins in her neck protrude from her straining her voice.

  None of the guys bother to collect their money. Instead they grab for their phones and booze, rushing past the crazed woman in front of the door.

  As the last guy escapes, I push up from my seat. My l
egs wobble beneath my weight, and I have to lean forward on the table to help regain my balance.

  “What the fuck was that about?” I glare at her from the corners of my eyes.

  “You really are dense, aren’t you?”

  I go to fill my shot glass with tequila, but before I can even tip the bottle, it’s snatched from my hands. My head snaps up in shock. Karmen rushes to the kitchen, and I storm after her.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” My shouts mix in with the sound of my feet stomping throughout the room.

  Upside down, Karmen tips the bottle, draining its contents. I’m behind her in an instant. My hand grips the glass and I yank up, trying to pull it from her grasp, but she refuses to let go.

  “Karmen, fucking stop!” I yell.

  “No! I am sick and fucking tired of watching you destroy yourself,” she argues.

  I jerk it up again, but my grip slips and the bottle crashes forward into the stainless sink. The bottle shatters into pieces. Blood mixes with the golden liquid, and just like that I’ve been slapped back to reality. Karmen’s bent over, her head resting on her arms on the edge of the counter. She clutches her bleeding hand in the sink. Carefully, I lean over her and turn on the faucet.

  What in the hell have I just done?

  I reach for her hand to put it under the spray, but she snatches it back and looks up at me. The rims of her eyes are filled with tears, her bottom lip quivers with repressed tears. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she croaks out.

  “Baby…I’m just trying…please let me…”

  She shakes her head back and forth vigorously. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Karmen, you don’t mean…”

  Karmen looks away from me as she gently sticks her hand under the cool water. “You need to leave. I need some space from you. I don’t care if you call a cab, call Drew, call your mother…I don’t…I don’t care anymore.” Her final words come out as a pained whisper. It’s at this moment that I know without a shadow of a doubt that I have just lost the best part of me.

  I stumble back away from her. From the resolution in her words. From the pain overshadowing her beautiful face.

  Anger fuses itself into every ounce of my being. There’s no anger to be had towards my dead father. There’s no anger to be had towards Karmen.

  No.

  The only person I have to blame is myself. I grip my hair in my hands and pull hard to keep from striking out at something. But it’s too much.

  The pain.

  The hurt.

  My self-hatred.

  The choking sensation that no matter how big of a breath I breathe it’s never enough.

  The fucking feeling of being out of control.

  And now the hurt and pain reflected back at me in the eyes of the woman I love.

  Red clouds my vision. My fist slams down on the dining table, the wood splinters from the impact. I do it again and again and again until the table falls to the floor. My breaths come in heavy pants. My knuckles are split. Blood drips on the floor. My teeth are clenched and my jaw is tight with tension. I look out the corner of my eyes to see Karmen huddled in the corner of the kitchen cowering away from my rampage. Her eyes are wide, she’s shaking, her injured hand held tightly to her chest. She’s afraid of me.

  I throw my head back and clench my hands into fists and yell. “FUCK!” My veins bulge beneath the skin of my neck and arms. The sounds of her sniffles break through and I can’t help the tears that come. I don’t want to. Slowly, I lift my head and stare back at the woman I said I wouldn’t let drown with me. I should have left a long time ago. This woman here, she’s not the Karmen I met during my interview. She’s not strong or full of light.

  Because of me she’s fucking broken and weak. And now I’m about to leave her to the tide hoping she can swim back to shore while I let it carry me away.

  “I’m so damn sorry,” I speak around the ball of the emotion lodged in my throat. My voice is hoarse and sore as I tell her, “You have to believe that I’d never hurt you.”

  She stares back at me, her expression completely blank. “Just go, please,” she pleads.

  “Okay. But we’re going to work this out, Karmen.”

  She shakes her head no, and her tears fall faster now. I kneel down before her and brush the backs of my fingers against her cheek. She shies away from my touch as she tries to become one with the wall, her entire body shakes from fear.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow, and we’ll talk about this.” I lean in and press a kiss to her forehead. “I love you,” I murmur against her clammy skin. I know it’s not fair of me to tell her how I really feel now. But I can’t let her think that I don’t care, that I don’t love her. What’s the old saying, ‘You never know how good you have it until it’s gone.’ That’s bullshit. I know exactly how good I had it, but I let my vices taint the purity of what she had to offer. I let myself ruin the only good thing I had going for me. As soon as I tell her I love her, her shoulders hunch forward and shake from gut wrenching sobs as she cries out agonizing cries.

  Listening to her pain filled cries, seeing her pull away from touch, seeing her fearful of me; there are no words to justify what I feel. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself, but I meant what I said. Karmen and I need to talk.

  But not tonight.

  Tonight has already gone too far.

  “Do you need anything else?” Tammy asks from the doorway of my bedroom.

  My eyes are downcast as I stare at the bandage wrapped around my injured hand. I feel so empty inside. Last night should have never happened, at least not the way it did. I don’t regret snatching the bottle away from Brayden, but I do regret how everything else transpired. Seeing the broken table in my dining room brings tears to my eyes. My chin trembles as I think how the shattered table is a representation of our relationship. The remnants left behind are irreparable. Our relationship changed just as fast as the Georgia seasons do. In the spring we were new and budding, in the summer we were alive and vibrant. But now it’s become fall and we’ve slowly faded away just like the leaves on the trees. In winter, we’ll be gone, dead, a distant memory.

  Sleep didn’t come to me last night. I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing Brayden losing it all over again. The way his fists beat down on the table scared me. The sounds the wood made as it splintered into pieces still echo in my ears. He couldn’t hear my screams begging for him to stop. He transformed into a person I never knew he could be. But what kept me awake was remembering the look in his eyes. His pain, regret, and grief, the gamut of emotions he wailed upon my table will haunt my dreams for many nights to come.

  “No. I think I pretty much have what I need for the next few days.”

  After Brayden stormed out last night, I called Tammy in a state of panic. She came, fixed up my hand after we realized it didn’t need stitches, and stayed with me. In my moment of distress, she was my comfort. While I broke apart, clutching to my pillow, she cradled my body to hers and whispered reassuring words. She told me in time everything will get better. That I’m a strong woman that would make it through this. This morning when we woke, I asked if I could come and stay with her for a few days. In the midst of my turmoil I came to a decision that I didn’t want to make, but my hand was forced. It’s what’s best for me and for Brayden.

  By the front door my suitcase sits packed. As I stare at the brown, leather luggage, I realize this is really it. I breathe in a shuddering breath as the thought of when I return Brayden will no longer be living here. There will be no more loving caresses, nights cuddled on the couch, slow, tender lovemaking. The laughter that once filled this apartment will now be empty and lonely. Asking him to move out isn’t going to be easy but it’s what needs to be done.

  Tammy squats down in front of me. Slowly, I look up at her unblinking when I feel her hand touch my knee. “You’re making the right decision, Karmen,” she says softly.

  “I know.” I nod and sniff back the tears I’m trying desperatel
y not to cry. “It just sucks. Even after all the bullshit, I still love him with everything I have in me. But he’s not healthy, and I can’t keep trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. So I have to save myself instead.”

  Tammy wraps her arms around me. My forehead rests on her shoulder. I choke back deep shuddering sobs. I think about how in one moment Brayden and I were blissfully happy, and in the next we were both lost without a compass, no longer able to find our way back to each other. I can’t help but wonder what I could have done differently? How I could have helped him? Maybe we were delusional to think we could become something great from a past so horrid? Maybe our relationship was an illusion of something that in the end could never really be? I don’t know. But I do know I am so damn tired of feeling like this, feeling like every breath I take is harder than the next, feeling like I’m stuck and can’t move forward.