Sweetest Heartbreak

by Heather Bentley

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, he focuses on me as he starts from the beginning. “We were so young when we married. So many hopes and dreams. Our biggest dream was having kids. Lots of kids. Or so I thought. It wasn’t long until she got pregnant, and, Jesus, I was so happy. The woman I loved was pregnant with my baby. There’s no better feeling.” He looks down at his shoes, momentarily relishing the memory.

  “That was, until I noticed her acting strangely, mostly not taking care of herself. I’d catch her drinking, and she’d brush me off, saying it was just a sip or two. Or she’d take off on a bike ride when the doctor clearly told her to avoid anything with two wheels. But it was like she was actually trying to do the opposite of what was best.

  “I was working sixty-, seventy-hour weeks back then, building the practice, so I thought it was her way of gaining my attention. But, when I started finding empty wine bottles hidden in the garbage, I knew it was something more.

  “Once, I even got a phone call from her, screaming and hysterical that she had been roller-skating with friends and fallen. Fucking roller-skating. I rushed to the hospital, and she was crying that she’d lost you before a doctor even did the ultrasound. Fortunately, they confirmed that not only was she still pregnant, but that you were also all right.

  “I couldn’t even give myself a chance to be relieved though because, now, I was trying to figure out what was wrong with my wife. Why did it seem like she was doing everything she could to lose you? And our dream of a family right along with it.” He shakes his head at the memory.

  “The doctor asked if she had a family history of mental illness, but there was nothing. So, I watched her closely and had everyone possible watching her as well. Near the end of the pregnancy, the possibility of postpartum depression became a big concern, so, a few weeks before you were delivered, she agreed to go on an antidepressant for the next few months.

  “Then, you were born, and you were perfect. We doted on you like we were the first people to be given a child. Your mom, she couldn’t take her eyes off of you, insisting on doing everything for you herself—to the point that I could never even change a diaper. You refused to breast-feed, so I’d get up at night to feed you, but she’d already be there. She wasn’t sleeping, but you wouldn’t know it because she was bouncing off the walls with energy. She said it was from too much coffee. So, I figured that you were cared for, and that was the most important thing.

  “Until shortly after your first birthday. That was when you started getting sick. Odd rashes, vomiting, diarrhea, dehydration. It felt like she was constantly running you to the doctor, but they couldn’t find anything wrong. She became obsessed by the idea that you had cancer, so much so that even I started to believe it.

  “Together, we took you to specialist after specialist. You had more tests done on you in one month than anyone should have in a lifetime. But, other than ruling out cancer, no one could explain your symptoms.

  “It wasn’t until I walked in on you having a seizure on the family room rug that everything changed.” He begins pacing in front of my desk, raking his hands through his hair and taking a few strong breaths.

  “Dad, it’s okay. Just tell me,” I whisper.

  “It was the strangest feeling. I’ll never forget it. Something in my gut had told me to get home. To run home. That you needed me. I literally walked out of a meeting and ran to my car. And, when I walked in the front door and came around the corner, there you were, lying on your back with your eyes rolled back, jaw clamped shut, and every limb of your tiny body rigid and stiff. And she was just sitting there, on the sofa, casually watching you, like this was a fucking normal, everyday occurrence.”

  His face is twisted in agony, but when I begin to rise from my chair, he holds one finger up, asking for a moment. I sit back down and give him whatever time he needs.

  “I called an ambulance and carried you outside, completely helpless. It was the worst feeling in the world, and I will never forget it for as long as I live. The seizing settled by the time the ambulance got there, but you started vomiting and foaming at the mouth on the drive to the hospital. They saw signs of poison and immediately pumped your stomach. And, sure enough, they found household cleaners in your system. She had been feeding her own baby poison. She had been intentionally making you sick! And for what? What did she get out of it? Sympathy? Attention?”

  “Everyone told me to leave her. But, by then, a sense of guilt so deep had set in. We lived under the same roof. How had I not known? So, I tried to do the right thing. To get her help and stand by her side. I found her the best doctors, spent thousands and thousands of dollars, but the truth of the matter was, how could I leave you alone with her ever again? I had to worry about your safety around your own fucking mother.

  “It didn’t take long for the guilt to turn to anger. I knew I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t get you away from her. So, I offered her a huge check and told her to take anything she wanted. And you know what? She took it. She took it all and never looked back. She didn’t just leave you that day, son; she left both of us. Every hope and dream I’d had for my family was gone. With one signature, I became a full-time, single dad.

  “I’ve examined every moment with your mother more times than I can count. Logically now, I know there was mental illness, but I can’t help but think that I wasn’t enough for her. That you and I weren’t enough. I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll ever know honestly. And I’m okay with that because, in the end, I got you. And you are all that ever mattered.”

  My head is spinning. I’m still in my seat, digging my fingers into my knees, as I grapple with the bomb that’s just been dropped.

  My dad saved my life.

  He’s always been there for me. In ways I couldn’t even comprehend.

  “I’m so sorry, Heath. We should’ve had this conversation a long time ago. But you have to know, I’ve always done what I thought was best for you. Always.”

  I raise my head to him, hating to see his face strain as he fights back tears. Knowing everything this man has done for me is breaking my heart. I stand and wrap my arms around my dad for probably the first time since I was five. He clutches me back, his embrace telling me one thing strong and clear. I am so lucky to have him.

  We separate, and he pats me on the shoulder. “Can you tell me why this is all coming up now?”

  My shoulders hunch as my fingers twist together. “I really screwed up.”

  “With Leah?”

  “With Leah. Eli. You. Everyone who matters. All because of her.” I glance at my computer.

  “So, what are you thinking? Do you want to fly to Paris and confront her? Because, if that will help you find what you need, we can leave tomorrow.”

  “No. I think I’m good. I have everything I need right here.”

  Leah

  What the hell is that noise?

  “Mom!” My voice is hoarse as I shout with my head sandwiched between two pillows.

  As the sound travels further away, my shoulders relax, and the rest of my body melts back into the bed. Just as my thoughts fade off, the sound roars back, vibrating the window above my bed.

  “Damn it.” I smack the bed with my hand and push myself up.

  The clock says it’s barely eight a.m., and the noise is definitely a lawn mower. And I know one thing for sure. Whoever is on the push end of that machine is about to feel my wrath.

  I stomp down the stairs to the front door and fling it open, the early morning sun burning my retinas. As the passing lawn guy comes into focus, I don’t have the patience to wait to rip him a new one, so I jump the few steps and begin my attack from behind. It’s the most physical activity I’ve had in some time, not to mention much needed vitamin D.

  “What the hell are you doing? Excuse me!”

  He doesn’t hear my shouts over the sound of the mower. I follow him and yell again. This time, when he still doesn’t answer, I notice his earbuds and poke a finger into his shirtless, tan shoulder blade. The e
ngine dies at the same time he turns to me.

  You have got to be kidding me.

  I stumble back a step.

  “Heath?”

  A wall instantly goes up, blocking off the old, familiar pain that washes over me like a bucket of ice water.

  With my defenses armed and raised, I go for haughty. “Do you have any idea what time it is? People are sleeping!” I bring my hands to my narrow hips. Although my old running shorts are riding low, my attitude is firmly in place. “And what are you doing cutting my grass, anyway?” My eyes are hard as I point, disgusted, at his sweat-beaded chest.

  He swallows and answers quietly, “You’re home?”

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Yes, Heath, I’m home.” Turning to the driveway, I notice my mom’s car is gone, and slap my hands to my sides. “Great. Where is my mother?” I huff under my breath and turn back to him. When I do, he’s still staring at me. “What?”

  “It’s Saturday.”

  Frustrated, I fist my hands at his non-answer.

  “Yes, Heath, it’s Saturday.”

  “On Saturdays, I cut the grass, and your mom goes to the farmers market with Mrs. Emerick.”

  “You cut the grass?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Since when?”

  “I don’t know. A while now?”

  He’s still staring at me like I’m back from the dead, and it’s making me uncomfortable. I run my fingers through my hair, and they get stuck half way through in a tangle of knots. At least, now, I understand why he’s staring.

  “You’re home.” This time, it’s not a question but more of a wistful declaration. “I mean, are you home, home or just home for a visit?”

  I cross my arms over my chest, just now realizing I’m wearing a stretched-out tank top with nothing underneath. “Home, home.” I turn my head up and away.

  “Good. That’s good. I know how much your mom missed you.”

  My jaw grinds. Who is he to talk about my mom?

  “Well, I’d better finish up. Sorry I woke you.” He drops his head and backs up a few steps away before stopping. “It’s good to have you home, Leah.” He walks to the mower and continues where he left off.

  After he disappears around the side of the house, I storm back inside and climb back into bed, although there’s no way I’m falling back asleep. Seeing Heath was not on today’s itinerary. What is on today’s itinerary? The same as the day I crawled into this bed a week ago.

  Feel sorry for myself. Check.

  Feel pathetic. Check.

  Feel like a failure. Check.

  I’ve already accomplished so much in one day. But facing Heath for the first time in more than a year? Definitely not on today’s to-do list. Or tomorrow’s. Or the day after that.

  Lying back on the bed, I bring a pillow over my eyes and force myself to think of something other than the last five minutes. But it’s worthless.

  Heath.

  He looked the same but somehow older. His features were softer than before, less angry than I remember. His shoulders weren’t on guard, and his eyes weren’t suspicious. It’s a Heath I don’t recognize. A Heath I don’t know.

  I stay in bed until the lawn mower stops and then wait another ten minutes until I’m sure he’s gone. When I finally make my way to the kitchen, I’m met by my mom unloading vegetables from her bag.

  “Well, there’s my darling daughter. Good to see you out of bed.” She continues to pull produce from her bag.

  The pieces start to fall together. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” I pull a sweatshirt over my head before crossing my arms, irritated.

  “Plan? I’m not sure what you mean.” She brings a hand to her chest, feigning offense.

  “You haven’t bugged me once about getting out of bed this past week because you knew eventually the lawn mower would do the trick. Or, more importantly, the person pushing it.”

  “Lee, that’s ridiculous. I always—”

  “Mom, just stop.”

  When her features soften and sympathy fills her eyes, I know I’m right.

  “Heath, Mom? Really?”

  “He needed someone to talk to, Lee. As much as I know he hurt you, he needed a mother. I couldn’t turn him away.”

  I hug myself and ask, “Did you tell him? About what happened to me?”

  “Absolutely not.” I squeeze tighter as she continues, “I didn’t know at first, what had happened between the two of you. I just knew he needed someone to confide in, and for some reason, he picked me.” Her voice softens. “He’s changed a lot in the last year, Lee. I’m not saying you have to be friends with him again. But just understand that he’s not the same person he was when you were together.”

  “Are you seriously defending him?”

  “Never.” She walks up and places her warm hands on my cheeks. “You are always first. You and Connor. And what he did is inexcusable. And I made that clear to him. But I also know a cry for help when I see one. And that boy wasn’t just crying. He was screaming. So, I had to make the choice to either watch him slip further down the hole or reach a hand out to help. I chose to help him. If that hurts you, I’m sorry. But I’m sorrier that I didn’t realize you were sliding down that same dark hole.” Her eyes turn glassy, and her voice breaks. “I will never forgive myself for not being there for you. For not seeing that things were as bad as they were.”

  “It’s not your fault, Mom. It was easy to hide when I was almost a thousand miles away.”

  “No, you’re my daughter. My baby girl. I should’ve seen it. Hell, I should’ve felt it. But I didn’t. And, honey, I am so sorry for that.”

  She’s about to cry. Something I rarely see from her and definitely something I can’t handle. I pull her in for a hug and rest my chin on her shoulder. She holds me, and for that brief moment, I feel a little less sorry for myself, a little less pathetic, and a little less like a failure.

  “Lee?” she asks into my hair.

  “Yes?”

  “I love you, you know that?”

  “Of course I do. I love you too.”

  “Good. Remember that when I say what I have to say next.”

  I brace myself, and she reflexively tightens her grip.

  “Okay.”

  “For both our sakes, go shower. And brush your teeth. Twice. Because, sweetheart, you smell like ass.”

  Heath

  Leah is home.

  She’s home.

  When I turned and saw her, standing in front of me for the first time in forever, I just wanted to touch her and see if she was real. Because, although she looked like my Leah, the person standing in front of me was nothing like my Leah.

  She stopped being your Leah a long time ago.

  This Leah was frail with her collarbones sticking out from underneath her tank top and her cheekbones harsh and defined. Her skin was pale with bony hips above legs that were stick thin.

  What hurt the most though was the look in her eyes. Total hate and disgust that I never knew possible from her. There was no sign of the happy, carefree Leah I once knew.

  Eli was right. I’d destroyed her.

  But, despite the anger in her voice and the weakness of her body, she was still the most gorgeous girl I have ever seen. I know the sweet, trusting Leah I fell in love with is in there somewhere. And I hope more than anything that she finds her way out. And, if I were someone who believed in miracles, I’d wish for me to be the one to help her find her way.

  But miracles, like second chances, are hard to come by.

  I head to my room in desperate need of a shower, stopping first at my dresser to pull open the top drawer and remove the pink tin box. I look at it every day now. It’s my reminder of how damaging selfishness and fear can be. And to never go back there again.

  I open the lid and then reach for the penny in my pocket, adding it to the pile as I make the same silent wish I’ve made on every penny since the day Eli punched me in the face.

  Let Leah find her happy
.

  Leah

  Why do I agree to these things? Oh, yeah, because I love Eli and Lindsey.

  I fuss with the ribbons on the small box and head up the walkway. They’re having an impromptu barbecue with a few friends to celebrate their recent engagement, and I couldn’t say no. Not that I would even want to. They’ve both done so much for me, and I truly couldn’t be happier for them.

  As far as I’m concerned, Eli is family, and Lindsey is better than anyone I could have ever picked for him. She’s funny and kind, and she looks at him like he’s the center of her world. And, with everything that happened in Chicago, any bitterness she may have felt toward me and my past with Eli has vanished.

  My only real problem at the moment is the car that sits out front of the house. Heath’s car. I know at some point I’ll need to learn to coexist with him, but until then, I’m going for subtle avoidance.

  I enter the house and am immediately met with the sounds of soft music and jovial conversation. Cautiously, I move toward the heart of the party, ready to divert my eyes and change my path if necessary.

  “There you are.” Lindsey greets me with a warm hug before gracing me with her cheerful smile. “You look wonderful, as always. Did you get some sun today?”

  “I did. Thanks.” Remembering why we’re here, I excitedly grab her hand. “Let me see!”

  Her engagement ring is a stunning round one carat diamond encircled with an outer layer of small diamonds, all set on a platinum band. I actually already saw it when Eli brought me to the jeweler for a second opinion, but seeing it on her hand only makes it more beautiful.

  I lightly squeeze her fingers. “Gorgeous, Lindsey. I’m so happy for you.”

  Her face eases into a wistful smile. “Thanks, Leah. I’m pretty happy myself.”

  With an arm around my shoulders, she leads me into the family room. Eli mentioned it was going to be a small get-together, but it’s more so than I expected, which is going to make avoiding him even harder.

  As the sun goes down and the temperature cools, the group ends up outside, seated around a bonfire for s’mores and easy conversation. Heath has either sensed my need to be left alone or he’s enjoying the attention of Lindsey’s friends. Thankfully, I have Eli’s sisters to keep me company. As if they sense my anxiety, at least one of them has stayed by my side.