Unveiling The Sky

by Jeannine Allison

  “Okay. I just wanted to make sure because earlier you said…”

  You made me feel important and… understood. No one had ever made me feel that way before. The thought was there instantaneously. Of course she would remember that part of the argument; she missed nothing. “Naomi, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “I know.” Her smile was genuine. “It’s different. I just wanted to make sure you knew I still felt that way. That I’ll always feel that way.”

  I nodded as a thought came to me.

  “What?”

  “Do I bring everything back to myself and my depression?” I asked, voicing Gabe’s comment from earlier.

  She grimaced. “Sometimes.”

  “Wow. That sounds incredibly narcissistic.”

  “I don’t think narcissistic is the right adjective.”

  “Neurotic?” I asked.

  “That sounds a bit more accurate.” She bumped my shoulder to let me know she was kidding before continuing, “I don’t know if that’s necessarily a bad thing, though.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean it’s just a word. Sometimes it gets you into trouble and can be a real pain in the ass, like tonight when you assumed everything he was saying was more about you and your insecurities, when in reality it could have been about whatever the hell was going on in his head.” I winced and she shot me a look of apology before continuing. “But sometimes, it’s a great thing.”

  I worried my bottom lip, popping it out only to speak. “How so?”

  “Since you think that what other people say and do somehow reflects on you, you always make sure the things you say and do won’t offend other people. You take care with your words, and you always over-explain things so there isn’t any way they can misinterpret what you’re saying.” She frowned slightly. “I feel like I made that really convoluted, but did it make any sense?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “But it is still a negative thing, and I don’t know how to change that part of it.”

  She shrugged. “You don’t. Knowing you have a bad quality doesn’t mean you have to fix it. Some are embedded deep within us, and you’ll drive yourself crazy trying to divest yourself of them. Insert cliché about perfection here.” She chuckled to herself and I gave her a grateful smile in return. “You just have to find people who love you enough to look past your flaws.”

  My stomach rolled and my palms felt a bit sweaty. I swallowed nervously and twisted my hands in my lap. “Do you think Gabe loves me enough?”

  “Yeah, sweetie. I do.”

  I took a deep breath as I thought of everything that happened over the last twenty-four hours, and I realized I was just too exhausted to think about this any more tonight. But one thing I did realize as I went to sleep that night was that I didn’t regret any of it.

  We always talked about protecting our hearts, but that wasn’t what they were made for. It was like buying new furniture only to cover it up, or designing the perfect room but not being able to sit it in. Our hearts were made to feel, to break, to love, to grieve. And all mine ever did was beat.

  After I told Gabe about my depression and I committed to him, I did it completely unguarded because I didn’t want to protect my heart anymore. I wanted to bruise and batter the hell out of it. I wanted to feel everything, and if it needed to break just so I knew it was beating, then so be it.

  Maybe it broke me in ways I’d never be able to fix, but wasn’t that the point of all this?

  Of life?

  So even though I cried myself to sleep that night with my bruised and battered heart, I still couldn’t bring myself to regret any of it.

  I woke up three different times last night before finally admitting defeat. Rolling over and swinging my legs to the ground, I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. 7:16 a.m. The brutal hangover I should have had was nonexistent, and I couldn’t help but feel like the ache in my chest was to blame. I was too focused on that pain to be able to feel anything else. You could have pushed me off a cliff and run me over with a car, and still all I’d feel was the heartache.

  When I looked at my phone and saw no missed calls or texts, I wasn’t surprised. I hadn’t tried to contact her last night because Naomi was right when she said Alara needed space. I didn’t want to talk to her again until we had both cooled off. But damn, it was hard not to call her.

  By noon I had cracked. I quickly dialed her number before I could think better of it. My knee was bouncing up and down in such a flurry it looked like the Energizer Bunny on a pogo stick.

  Again, I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t answer. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt.

  When my phone rang ten minutes later, I practically broke my leg in my haste to answer it. My shoulders slumped when Sam’s name flashed across the screen.

  “Hey,” I answered as I rubbed a tender spot on my forehead.

  “You sound like shit.” She laughed before whispering to someone in the background. I didn’t respond, and her voice became slightly panicked when she said, “Gabe?”

  “Do you think you could come over?” I asked without preamble, but she never needed any. Her response was instantaneous.

  “Yeah, of course. Give me about twenty minutes?”

  “Thanks,” I whispered into the phone long after she hung up.

  …

  After the clusterfuck that was last night, Derek left the apartment. Whether to blow off steam or give me space, I didn’t really know. But since he still hadn’t returned, I was beginning to think he was angrier with me than he let on. So I was more than a little surprised when thirty minutes later he walked in right before Sam.

  “Uhh… hey guys?”

  Derek nodded and then jerked his head toward my sister. “I ran into her out in the parking lot.” They both seemed a little nervous and my gaze traveled between them. Sam was avoiding my eyes before she stepped forward and wrapped her tiny arms around my neck, an embrace I gladly returned. “Hey. You okay?” she asked, and I completely forgot about their weirdness.

  “I will be,” I assured her.

  Derek looked on from the kitchen, clearly uncomfortable, before clearing his throat and pointing toward his room. “I’m just gonna…” He trailed off and quickly made his exit. As soon as his door closed she pulled back and looked me in the eye. “What happened?”

  “I’m a fucking moron.”

  “Well, you do have the Y chromosome and that does correspond with being a fucking moron from time to time.”

  Somehow, despite my shitty mood, I burst out laughing. “Wow, I must really look bad if you’re willing to resort to cussing to make me feel better.”

  “I’d do anything for you,” Sam said in earnest as she squeezed my arm.

  “Alara and I got in a fight. Maybe it was even a breakup, God, I hope not… I honestly don’t know.”

  “What happened?”

  And then I told her everything, from getting drunk to making the mistake of going home while drunk to throwing my bottle at the wall.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked a few minutes later.

  “Besides say I’m sorry, I don’t really know. I guess I have to finally put everything on the table.”

  “That’s usually good in a relationship.”

  I nodded before diving in. “What scares me is I won’t be enough for her. This is such a serious thing and”—I paused, swallowing my nerves—“I love her, and she deserves someone whose track record for helping people isn’t 0-2.”

  Sam sighed before turning toward me. “Is that honestly what you think?” When I didn’t respond, she began fiddling with the zipper on her jacket. “Mom’s situation was not the same thing.”

  My head snapped in her direction. “What do you mean, ‘Mom’s situation’?” I held my breath as I awaited her response.

  “You think I didn’t know what she wanted?” She gave me a sad look.

  “She told you that?” I asked in disbelief.

  Her eyes watered as she nodde
d, and I looked down at the table before she started talking. “She just looked so tired one day and when I asked her about it, I don’t think she had the strength to lie anymore.” She paused and tapped my chest to get my attention. “Her getting cancer was not your fault—I know you’re smart enough to understand that much. But what I don’t think you understand is that her wanting to die was also not your fault.” I began shaking my head, but she powered on. “No. Listen. You think too much with your head, you always have. That’s one of the reasons Dad is so hell-bent on getting you to work for him.

  “Everything is always A plus B equals C to you. And sometimes that’s okay, but most of the time that’s not how people work. You’re always the B in the equation, thinking that you always have to do something. It’s an admirable trait, trying to fix everyone. But sometimes there isn’t anything you can do other than just be there, to just ride out the storm with them instead of trying to stop it. But you don’t see it that way; you see that as failure on your part, and it’s not,” she said earnestly.

  I nodded as her words began to sink in. I finally smiled and let my gaze drift adoringly over my sister’s face. “When the hell did you get so smart?”

  “I’ve always been smart, you were just too far up your ass to notice.”

  I laughed before reaching over and pulling her into a hug. “Thanks, Sam.”

  …

  My palms were sweaty as I waited outside of Alara’s final class on Monday evening. It had been the longest four days of my life as I waited for her to contact me. Unfortunately she never did, and despite everyone telling me to be patient, I couldn’t keep my distance any longer.

  I had just looked down at my watch when the doors burst open and students came streaming out. Standing immediately, I wiped my hands on my pants and began searching for her. When I found her I almost wished I hadn’t thought to surprise her. Her posture was stiff and slow as she walked down the steps, unknowingly coming closer to me. She kept her outfit simple with dark jeans and a black sweatshirt that fell loosely around her body, while her hair was pulled into a sloppy bun that showed off her makeup-free face, revealing dark circles under her eyes and a paler than normal complexion.

  The air left my lungs as I thought about how absolutely beautiful she was, even with her wrecked and ragged appearance. I could be blind and still know she was beautiful. Because she was so much more than what everyone else saw. And as I stood there watching her walk toward me with her head down and her arms tucked around a binder she clutched to her chest, I couldn’t help but worry it was all about to disappear.

  When she was close enough, I cleared my throat and called her name.

  She looked up and jumped back a little, clutching her chest. “Jesus.”

  “Sorry, I’m sorry.” I raised my hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She nodded warily before looking over my shoulder. “It’s okay, but I, uh, I don’t have time for this right now,” she said distractedly as she started walking around me.

  Panicking, I wrapped my hand around her arm to stop her. “Please, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t leave. I just… we need to talk. Please.”

  She let out a breath before turning around and facing me. Her eyes immediately went to my hand on her arm as she gently pulled it free. Reluctantly I let her go and tried to bend down so I could catch her eyes. When she saw what I was doing, she sighed and looked up into mine. “I know we need to talk, but I really can’t right now.”

  “Okay, when?” I asked earnestly.

  “I don’t know, Gabe. But I’m late for something right now and I need to go. I’ll call you later, okay?” She turned around and briskly walked away without even waiting for a response. I didn’t try to stop her again or point out that just a few minutes ago she had been sluggish, looking like she was headed home. I blew out a breath and hung my head before slowly trailing behind her.

  The knocking on the door kept getting louder and more insistent. With a huff I flung the covers off myself and stomped to the front door. A quick glance through the peephole revealed what I’d suspected. It had been three days since I’d seen him on campus, and obviously he was done waiting for the phone call I was having trouble making. I wasn’t lying when I said I was busy. The semester was wrapping up, and in addition to tests I had several projects to turn in. I knew I could have made time for him, but I just wasn’t ready. I wasn’t prepared for the possibility that this could be the end. As long as I kept ignoring him, we were in a kind of limbo, and a limbo was definitely preferable to a breakup.

  Lightly resting my head against the door, I took a deep breath and clutched the doorknob. Before I could overthink it, I threw it open and stood face-to-face with a fuming Gabe.

  “What are you—” I barely managed to get that out before Gabe dragged me to him and his mouth came crashing down on mine. It was an angry kiss. He bit down on my bottom lip—hard—eliciting a loud groan that had me parting my lips instantly. When he turned us, my back hit the doorjamb and his hands bit into my hips with the firm grip he had on them. His tongue continued its determined assault as his hands skimmed my ribs until he was roughly squeezing my breasts. I panted as he tore his mouth from mine and started raining kisses down my throat and chest until he reached the top of my tank top.

  My mind whirled as emotions rolled over me in waves. Sadness. Fear. Love. Lust. I took a shuddering breath right before his mouth returned to mine; it was the roughest he’d ever been, but instead of scaring me it shot pure desire through me until I felt like I was floating.

  “Gabe.” The sound was strangled as he became frantic, like he couldn’t decide what to do first as his mouth moved again to begin sucking on the skin above my tank while he pinched my nipples and ground his hips into mine. I had to clutch his shoulders to keep myself upright. Several seconds later his head came up and he missed my mouth as he tried to kiss me again. Awareness came flooding back to me as his alcohol-induced breath hit my face. With a slurred chuckle he moved to kiss me again, but I put my hands on his chest and pushed him back.

  “You can’t keep ignoring me,” he growled against my lips before he released his hold and took a step back as we both struggled to get our breathing under control. As the heat from our kiss faded, I shivered, reminding me that the only thing protecting my skin from the bitter December cold was a cotton tank top and thin yoga pants. Our eyes connected and despite his drooping eyelids, I could see the apology in his eyes.

  “Can I come in?” He swayed a little in front of me.

  “How drunk are you?” I asked as I peered around him to look for his car. “How’d you get here?”

  He shook his head and ignored my questions. “We need to talk.”

  “And you think while your drunk and at,” I paused and grabbed his wrist to look at his watch, “two a.m. is the best time for this conversation?”

  “Well, you wouldn’t talk to me while I was sober...”

  “The last time we talked and you were drunk things didn’t end so well,” I replied with a bite. He grimaced and bowed his head, making me regret my careless words. I had only meant to stall him while I decided if I should let him in. I pinched the bridge of my nose and shut my eyes. “I really was late for something the other day. And I’ve been busy.”

  “Right… busy, of course.” I opened my eyes at his mocking tone and found him shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair. I stayed silent as I crossed my arms over my chest and looked back into my empty apartment. He sighed warily. “I took a cab, I’ll just wait out here while I call him back.” He started to turn around when I reached out to grab his arm.

  “Wait.” I cleared my throat and met his confused, but hopeful gaze. “Maybe… I mean… how about you just spend the night here?”

  “Yeah? You sure?” He sounded relieved as he slumped against the opposite doorjamb.

  I nodded and removed my hand from his arm. “Uh-huh.”

  “Alara,” he said gently. “As much a
s I want to come in right now, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” His head was resting on the frame and he started nodding off.

  “Gabe.” I shook him. “I’m never uncomfortable around you. Come on.”

  He didn’t protest again as I led him to the couch in the common room. He sat down and I began taking off his shoes, trying to avoid his eyes. “Where’s Naomi?”

  “She, uh, she’s spending the night at Sherry’s.” I quickly finished up before grabbing the blanket laying over the back of the couch and tossing it at him. “Well, goodnight.” I practically ran from the room before I could change my mind about forgetting everything and slipping in with him.

  I was still sitting up when she quietly shut the door, and despite how tired I was moments ago, sleeping was the last thing I wanted. Before I could give it any more thought I got up, stripped down to my boxers and started for her bedroom. I stumbled and cursed but caught myself before I fell. Without knocking I slowly opened the door, making just enough noise that she wouldn’t be frightened.

  “Alara?” She tensed as I slid into bed behind her. My fingers flexed against her stomach as I pulled her so her back was flush against my front. “Alara? I know you’re still awake. It’s been like three minutes.” I chuckled and leaned forward, preparing to inhale the delicious coconut scent on her skin. But when my nose touched her nape, all I could smell was my own mint body wash. I pulled away and frowned a little.

  “This isn’t a good idea, Gabe.” Her voice shook with unconvincing indecision.

  “Maybe,” I whispered as I placed light kisses from her ear to her shoulder and back. “But I can’t be in the same house as you and not be touching you.” I paused as my tongue swirled around her earlobe, drawing it into my mouth for a soft bite. “But if you tell me to stop, I will.”