Hold On

by Hilary Wynne

  “Not particularly. He’s got a reputation for being pretty cut-throat when it comes to business dealings and I know a few people who haven’t had a great experience with him.”

  I’m surprised Julian knows him and I’m surprised my company would hire someone who has a reputation for being unethical. I don’t get into it with Julian because he’s our biggest competition and he might be a little biased.

  After dinner, Julian asks me if we can go to my room and talk. It makes me kind of nervous. It also makes me feel like a teenager who is hiding from her parents. I admit to myself things are easier when we’re at his place and have no one else around. I don’t tell Julian what I’m thinking because it’ll only serve as ammunition about why I should be there and not here.

  Julian sits down on my bed and pats it so I sit next to him. I look right at him and try to gauge what’s about to happen.

  “I know yesterday was hard for you, baby. It was hard for me too. I hate that you’re still hurting so bad and when I really thought about how you just shut it out, shut everyone out, it made me think about how I felt after Isabelle died. I did a lot of thinking last night and came to some realizations that I pretty much did the same things you did. I went through a lot of the same things. I didn’t handle it very well either and my choice to keep it all in kept me from getting close to anyone until you. I want you to know I understand. I really understand how hard it is to rely on people and to be open. I want you to know you can count on me.”

  He reaches down, gets a piece of paper out of his wallet and hands it to me. “Please read this; I’ve never shown it to anyone before. I haven’t even looked at it in years, but I think it’ll help you see I understand some of the pain you feel. I know I told you some of this already, but I think this will make you know why I’ve stayed and why I’ve fought for you.”

  I unfold the paper and notice the faded ink. After reading the first few words I see it was written close to ten years ago. It’s written in Julian’s handwriting on a simple piece of lined paper.

  Julian Bauer – Age 21 (written so I won’t forget)

  It’s been two months since we buried Isabelle. Two months since a beautiful light left this world a darker place.

  I didn’t think I’d feel even close to okay by now, but I thought I’d feel a little better. I don’t. The ache that consumes my body is constant and the sadness that’s clawing at my heart hasn’t lessened its grip in the slightest. If I hear one more person say she’s in a better place I’ll fucking scream. I want her here with me, with us. I know I’m being selfish. She was so sick and in so much pain. It killed me to see her suffer. When she was alive I could only focus on her suffering. Now I’m forced to look around and see the complete destruction that was left behind after she died.

  My dad has completely disappeared. He’s a shell of who he used to be. When he does come around he’s always wasted. He cries all the time. He isn’t showing up to work and things are falling apart there. They keep calling me. As if I am capable of making the decisions that need to be made. My dad needs to fucking get a grip. I need him to be the man of the family and of the company. I need him to be strong. I need him to be my dad again.

  My mom can barely get out of bed. She’s stuck in a deep depression she can’t get out of. She’s completely checked out. I’ve basically moved back home to take care of Danny. He should get to enjoy his senior year as much as possible and he’s too young to handle this on his own. He’ll be graduating in two months. I’ll be graduating in two months. Isabelle has been dead for two months. I worry about Danny. He’s trying to hold it together but I know him and he’s not okay. None of us are. But for some reason he and I are the only ones functioning. We’re taking care of our parents instead of the other way around. My aunts are focused on my mom too. They make sure there’s food in the house but other than that we’re on our own. It’s like nobody has anything to give to anyone else. I’m trying to be there for Danny but right now I’m having a hard time taking care of myself.

  Alejandra came to the house today for the first time in a month. It didn’t go well. She only stayed long enough to criticize how I’m handling my life. She hates that I’m living at home. She complains that I’m spending so much time with Danny and not enough with her. When I try and talk to her about how I’m feeling she shuts me down. She needs me to be the same strong, confident man she agreed to marry. I’m not that man right now and she doesn’t like it. I don’t like it either but give me a fucking break. It’s not like things are normal around here. When she caught me crying a few weeks ago she looked disgusted. I know the look. It’s the one I get when things aren’t perfect, or perfect in her opinion. She keeps hounding me about what scouts I’ve heard from and what’s going on with the draft. The coaches have been supportive but I can see they’re questioning my commitment now. I can’t blame them. It was such a priority and now it feels like a chore.

  Mateo has been acting distant. He was right by my side the whole time Isabelle was sick and for the first month after she died. Then he started to disappear too. He’s been avoiding my calls. We’ve been best friends since we were eight and we’ve never gone a week without talking. It’s been eight days since I’ve have heard from him and I’m not going to call him. Fuck it. I know he’s torn up about Isabelle because she was like a sister to him, but I never thought I wouldn’t be able to count on him. I have no clue what the fuck is up with him.

  I’m lonely. I’m around people all day long at school and at home. But I’m alone. The people I need are gone. Isabelle is gone and when she died, the family I knew died. It looks like my relationship with my fiancé is dying. It looks like I’m losing my best friend too. I’d never do this to anybody I love. I’ve been there for all of these people and now they’re all leaving me.

  The nightmares are coming every night now. The panic attacks are coming pretty regularly too. I’m exhausted. All I want to do is sleep. I haven’t worked out in weeks. I worry I’m slipping into a depression too and I can’t let it happen. I can’t. Danny needs me. I have nobody to talk to and nobody seems to want to listen anyway. I’m dealing the best way I can but it would help if someone understood what I’m going through.

  Fuck. I’m twenty-one and I’m supposed to be a man. I thought I was a man. I’m a man. I need my mom. I need my dad. I need the woman who said she’d always be there for me when I asked her to be my wife. I need someone to help me mourn my sister and make it through this. It’s fucking swallowing me whole. All these people are supposed to be there for me and not one of them is. Everywhere I turn someone is leaving. Nobody will stay.

  I barely see the last words through my tears. I turn and look at him and he wipes my cheeks.

  “Don’t cry for me. It was a long time ago and I’m okay now. I want you to really know that I get it. I don’t need you to be perfect and I don’t need you to always be strong. I just need you to believe in what we have and trust me that I’m going to be here for you through this.”

  I wrap my arms around him and pull him down on the bed with me. I scoot up so we’re actually on the whole bed and I let him wrap me in his hug and take care of me as the tears I’ve been holding back start to fall. We lie in each other’s arms and I process what he shared with me. After a while I pull back from him and run my hand over his cheek. I flinch a little when I see the faint remnant of the scratch and bruise I left behind a few days ago.

  “Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it’s a big deal for you, to share yourself like that. I guess I really didn’t get it. I didn’t think you truly understood anything about what I’ve been dealing with.”

  “Our stories aren’t exactly the same, and I don’t know what it’s like to go through some of the stuff you have, but I know what it’s like to feel lost and alone … and broken. I can’t change the way you feel about yourself inside, but I can try and help make you see what a strong, beautiful person you are and I can make sure you know you aren’t alone.”

  I kiss him s
oftly on the lips and then pull back so I’m looking at him directly in the eyes. I ask a very simple, but very serious question.

  “Why, Julian? Why would you want to?”

  He pauses for a few moments and my stomach sinks as I think he doesn’t know how to answer. I’m about to tell him never mind when he responds with the simple words, “Because I can’t imagine not having you in my life. I’ve tried, and I can’t.”

  I exhale and smile. “I feel the same Julian. I feel the same. And Julian, you aren’t alone anymore either.”

  I watch as a warm smile breaks across his face and I snuggle into his arms even tighter. I want him to hold me. I don’t need anything else from him right now. I just want him to do what he said he wanted to do and help me not feel alone.

  We talk quietly for the next few hours. He’s in a bit of a sharing mood and I ask him some more questions about Isabelle and about his past. I hear the pain in his voice when he talks about her death and it causes a ground swell of emotion in me. Julian notices and asks me if I want to talk about Brady, or about what happened last year. After a few minutes I decide to tell him. I don’t have a very hard time talking about it, which even surprises me. It might be because I talked about it for months on end with Ellen. I talked about it because it helped me not focus on the rape. It was a calculated decision on my part and when I tell Julian how I walked in, after knocking for several minutes, and found him dead in his bed next to empty pill and whiskey bottles, I’m able to do it without freaking out. It was the most horrific thing I’ve ever had to deal with in my life, but a year later I feel somewhat detached from the event.

  I explain to Julian how I checked for a pulse and couldn’t find one and how I called 911. I tell him how I ran to the main house and screamed at the housekeepers to call his parents. I tell him how I called Luke and sobbed into the phone that he needed to come. When I think about it I can picture the sirens and flashing lights from the ambulance. I can hear his mother wailing and see his father trying to comfort her. I can remember being asked questions by a police officer and I remember Luke carrying me to his car and taking me to his parent’s house. Of course I see Brady’s face. It’s what I always see in my nightmares. I explain to Julian that the next week passed in a blur as I tried to come to terms with what had happened. The funeral was a few days later, the day after my birthday, and after I went, I pretty much shut the door on that part of my life and vowed to not look back. It was so ugly and so painful that completely removing myself from the situation was the only way I could see to survive. I don’t really talk to Julian about Luke, but I think about him as I’m telling the story. He was devastated and we really did lean on each other for support. After he heard the details once, he never really wanted to discuss the actual event again. Brady was gone by the time Luke got to West Palm, so he was spared that visual. I was envious about that.

  My sisters were both in town visiting when this happened and did what they could to be supportive. So did my parents. I wouldn’t let them do much for me. They wanted me to move back home for a while but I wanted to keep living my normal life, whatever that was. Eventually they stopped talking about it. My friends tried to be as supportive as possible too, but this was so outside any of our areas of knowledge. We had lost grandparents but not one of us had had a close friend, someone so young, die. And we didn’t know anyone that had killed themselves. It was a dark time for all of us and looking back now, I think we all wanted to put it behind us. My sister, Jill, stayed with me for a few days before she went back to Tampa. It was odd, but I didn’t argue when she asked to stay over. She watched me like a hawk for three days and when she was leaving she begged me to get professional help. The nightmares had started and she witnessed a few. After two weeks of waking up terrified in the middle of the night, I made my first appointment with Ellen.

  Julian gives me his full attention and listens to every word I say. He keeps me close to him and squeezes my hand at times and runs his hand up and down my back as well. This moment has none of the same raw emotion the other night did, but I can still see the empathy Julian has for me in his eyes. When I finally do fall asleep, I feel a bit lighter for sharing another piece of my painful past.

  Chapter Twelve

  For the first time in forever, I wake up before Julian. It is a surprise, and a treat, to find him in my bed when I wake up. I woke up before my alarm and reach over to turn it off. I lie there and stare at him for as long as I can. In his sleep, Julian looks so young and so peaceful. It makes me think of the picture he took of me sleeping and I grab my iPhone and take a picture. He’s lying on his back with one hand behind his head and one on his amazingly ripped stomach. He’s naked, of course, and my yellow sheet is pulled up to his waist. It really is hard for me not to look at him and get turned on, but I talk myself down and just take him all in. He’s constantly moving, constantly doing things, and to see him so still is a rare treat. When I listen close, I can even hear him breathe. I feel closer to him right now. I feel special to be able to see him in such a vulnerable state. I know not many people see this side of him and my heart swells. I feel lucky, and I feel so much love.

  I need it today; to feel the good vibes. Today is the official one year anniversary of Brady’s death. I feel better than I thought I would and I’m sure talking to Julian last night helped. I’m beginning to see the more I share, the less burdened I am. I wish I would’ve figured that out sooner. I think about where I was a few weeks ago and even I can see the progress. It makes me smile a little when I think about how far I’ve come.

  The smile is still on my face when I walk back out of the bathroom after my shower and find him still in bed. He’s awake and on the phone, but still there and still relaxed. I go to him with the innocent intention of giving him a kiss good morning. His intentions aren’t so innocent, as I quickly find out when he pulls me onto the bed on top of him. I see, or feel, right away that all of him is awake. He hangs up his call and brings me down into a tight, full body, bear hug. I’m in a robe, with nothing on underneath and I can feel the heat from his skin through the silky material.

  “Well good morning to you too.”

  He gives me a peck on the lips and rolls me off of him.

  “Good morning, mi amor. On second thought this isn’t a good idea. That was Candace on the phone and I have to get into work. I don’t have near enough time to do the things I want to do to you this morning. Rain check?”

  “Absolutely.” I’m okay with the rain check idea, I actually prefer it. I’m in a pretty good mood considering what this day means, but I’m a bit distracted. I also don’t feel well. I thought it was PMS, but when I looked at my birth control pill box this morning I realized my period shouldn’t be here until next week. I guess all of this stress is really doing a number on my body.

  I meet Julian in the kitchen after he showers and hand him a cup of coffee to go. He notices I haven’t packed anything for the weekend. “Not planning on staying over?”

  “I heard you mention you had to work tonight, that Ruben was out for the weekend. I really don’t want to hang out at the club and I don’t want to be alone tonight so I’m going to come home.” His disappointment is obvious. “Julian, it’s okay. You have to work. I’m fine. Lauren asked me if I wanted to go to the movies, so that’s probably what I’ll do.”

  He doesn’t argue but I wonder if he’s thinking about the last time he wasn’t there for me when I needed him. I spent Memorial Day with Luke and that did not end well.

  “Seriously, Julian. Please don’t worry about it.”

  “Okay, but if you need something, let me know and if you change your mind I’d love to come home to you. We’re still on for tomorrow night, right?”

  Ugh. Yes. My birthday dinner. Julian is all about celebrating my birthday. When I told him I was having dinner with my parents and my sister on the actual day, he strong-armed me to agree to dinner Saturday. He was disappointed I didn’t invite him to join us but after the debacle with his parents
he didn’t push. I made him promise we’d do something low-key and just the two of us. We agreed to go to dinner at Ursa’s and then go back to his place. It sounds like he has to work now, so I’m hoping it really will turn into an early night.

  Julian drops me off at work and as soon as he drives away my good mood follows. Damn. I knew it was too good to be true. I hate to admit it but his positive energy and support really do wonders to my mood. He’s been the strength I’ve needed to make it through these last few weeks and I’ve become a little dependent on him. I feel a sadness start to creep in.

  I’m sitting at my desk and trying to concentrate on anything other than the date on my calendar when I hear my phone ping with two text messages. I’m hoping its Julian. It’s Luke.

  Luke: Hi

  Luke: Are you okay?

  Damn him. I want to be mad at him. I want to hate him because then I wouldn’t miss him. But, then he goes and does this. It’s early for him, especially if he worked last night, and his first thoughts are of me. Damn him.

  Alexa: Hi. Not really. How are you?

  Luke: Shitty. Hard day

  Alexa: Yep

  Luke: Can you talk for a minute?

  Alexa: No

  I want to hear his voice but I know I’ll start crying.

  Luke: Okay. Judy asked that I reach out again. She’d really like to see and talk to you tomorrow. Are you sure you won’t go?

  I’m not sure what the hell comes over me, but all of a sudden I feel like this might be a good idea. I was able to talk to Julian about this calmly last night and maybe talking to Brady’s mom will be the final step in my healing journey. Before I change my mind I text him back.

  Alexa: Okay. Tell her I’ll come. 12?

  Luke: Really? She’s going to be very happy to hear that. Thank you.

  I think about what else to say to Luke and I don’t know what to write. I want to say so much, but it all seems inadequate today.