Chapter Fourteen
Marley
He’s in this for real.
We’re pulling up to the house, and I literally have to bite my lips to keep myself from smiling like a clown. From the poetry surprise to his words on the way home, I just have to pinch myself. This is real life. Alex Evans loves me. I just read one of my poems in front of a crowd. Life is going somewhere.
I’m happy. Truly, madly happy.
“Can I walk you in?” he asks.
I turn to see Mom’s car in the driveway. My heart sinks. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. Mom’s home.”
“Don’t you think it’s time I meet her?”
“I don’t know. She’s….”
“Marley Jade, there’s nothing that could happen, there’s nothing that could make me change my mind. I know things are rough in your life. I know things aren’t smooth. I’m ready for that. I’m ready to face it, head-on. Let me in. Let me understand.”
I stare into those perfect blue eyes, eyes I’m learning can get me to say and do anything.
“Okay,” I whisper, although inside, I’m screaming no. But if things are going to get ugly, if Alex is going to go running, better now than later. Might as well get it over with, let him see the whole truth.
Walking up to the door, I hold my breath. Every other guy I’ve brought home has pretty much known the story, has known my history. They’ve known how screwed-up my family is when they got involved.
Of course, the guys I dated before didn’t care. They were of a different lot than Alex. I lead him up the path to the door, squeezing his hand.
“You ready?”
“More than.”
I open the door and lead Alex completely and fully into my world.
***
“Mom, I’m home,” I yell, wondering where we’ll find her. I lead Alex in and leave him in the kitchen as I traipse down the hallway. I don’t make it far. Mom comes staggering down the hallway to the main living area. Her half-closed eyes, her clumsy gait, and her frizzy hair tell me everything I need to know.
There’ll be no hiding the truth from Alex tonight, no sugarcoating things. He’s going to get the entire mucky picture.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Mom shouts, slurring her words.
“Mom, sit down. Here, let me help you.”
She shoves me. “Get the hell off, you fucking slut. Who’s this?” She motions toward Alex, and my gut drops. This was a horrible idea. I’m an idiot. I turn to see Alex, hands in his pockets. He’s stoic, not moving, but I can see his jaw clenching.
“Hi, Ms. Jade. I’m Alex Evans.”
“Well look at that. Alex Evans. What a pretty boy you’ve got, Marley. Did you fuck him yet?”
“Mom, that’s enough. We’re leaving.” Tears sting my eyes.
“Good. Go. I don’t need you anyway. You think I need you here? You think you’re doing any good here? Go off with him. Good luck to you, Alex. She’s a slutty waste of life. Going nowhere.”
“Mom, stop. It’s the alcohol. It’s the alcohol talking,” I say, tears flowing now. I know, deep down, it’s the alcohol, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“Don’t tell me what it is and what it isn’t. Get out. Don’t fucking come back,” she screams, and Alex heads toward me, wrapping me in his arms.
Mom staggers up the hall, murmuring and muttering.
I cry freely into Alex’s chest. I should be used to this. It’s nothing new. But the sting of embarrassment hurts even more. I look up at him, at a loss for words. I look in his eyes, expecting to see judgment or horror.
I don’t see either. I just see empathy and understanding. He pulls me closer.
I try to say I’m sorry, but the words don’t come out. Despite the look on his face, I’m terrified. I’m petrified he’s going to go running, to retract those words. This might be when Alex sees I’m truly broken, that the sunshine, go-get-life Marley is kind of a fraud.
I’m not completely the carefree woman I want to be. I can try and try, but I can’t be. Life’s shit on the idea too many times. No matter how much I try to appreciate life and to live it, I can’t, not in the way I want.
Alex doesn’t run away, though, and he doesn’t even look scared. He whispers, “Come home with me, Marley. You don’t have to stay.”
I look up at him, at those eyes I’ve come to trust. I glance down the hall at the doorway where my mother is, thinking about how much I’ve sacrificed in this life for her, because of her.
So I do what I haven’t been able to do yet, even though I should have a long time ago.
I nod, take Alex’s hand, and I leave. My mother will have to handle her own messes tonight, and she’ll have to realize this girl might not be here forever to take care of her and her problems.
I love my mom despite everything. I love her even when she can’t love me back. I do. But sometimes you need to let go, you need to make your own way, and you need to do something that scares you a little.
***
On the way to Alex’s, I call Margaret like I’ve done so many times before. She asks if I need a place to stay, but I tell her I’m fine. I ask if she and Joe can check on Mom sometime. I feel bad, but I know there’s no sense in trying to get through. When Mom’s in this mood, it’s best to stay out of her way. The guilt creeps in for leaving, but I try to suffocate it. I’m doing the best I can. I’ve done the best I can.
I can’t keep fighting this fight.
We get to Alex’s apartment, and he leads me inside. Suddenly, the butterflies are back.
“I’m sorry you had to see all that,” I start again, apologizing for the tenth time.
“Shh,” he whispers, shushing me and kissing my cheek. “You have nothing to apologize for. You’re not your mother. You can’t be responsible for everything she does. I’m just sorry you have to endure that. It can’t be easy.”
I shrug. “It’s nothing new. She’ll sober up tomorrow, and it’ll be normal for a while. She needs help, but there’s no convincing her. I’ve tried.”
“I know you have. But you can’t shoulder this alone. Your mom has to want to get better, Marley. You can’t save her from herself, no matter how hard you try.”
I look up at his face, his arms wrapped around me. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can buy that. I feel like maybe he’s right.
I don’t owe anyone an apology for who my mother is. I don’t owe my life for her. And I can’t make her want to change. I can’t make her want to live.
Most of all, I can’t make her love me, no matter how much I want to.
“Tonight is about you. What you did out there on that stage was amazing, Marley. Own it. Relish it. Don’t let anything take away from it. You’re amazing. You deserve to pursue this poetry thing. You deserve to see it through. You deserve to be happy,” he says, leaning in and taking my lips in his.
The kiss feels so right, but I can’t ease the tension I’m feeling.
Alex, the kiss, being here—this isn’t what I expected. Sure, I’ve been attracted to Alex since day one. Sure, I’ve realized he gets me, he completes me in ways I didn’t think possible.
But there’s so much broken in me. There’s such a lack of trust, and there’s such a fear. What if this all falls apart? What if I’m not good enough for him? What if I bring disaster to his life?
I pull back for a moment before things can go to the point of no return. “Listen, Alex. I’m not the person you think I am, not completely. I’m not all wild and carefree. I’m not all okay. I’m a little bit broken, a little bit undone. I’m scared of life sometimes, and I’m scared of who I’ll become.” The silence between us seems to construct a wall. I feel a new distance. I feel myself putting the wall up.
“Aren’t we all?” He kisses my hand, gently, smoothly, as if I’m a princess who’s earned the love of her knight. I’m hardly the sort. I pull back slightly, wanting him to hear every word clearly.
“Maybe. But I don’t want you being
fooled. I’m not the perfect woman. But the thing is, despite that, despite my flaws, I’ve realized I want you anyway. I want you to love me anyway.”
“I can’t do that,” he says, and my heart freezes. I’m not surprised, though. I knew this could happen, probably should happen. I’m not the woman who deserves him.
He takes a step closer, bridging the gap between us. He takes my hand again, and his touch soothes my nerves. “I can’t love you anyway. I can’t love you despite your imperfections. But I can love you because of them. Marley, I don’t want perfection. Hell, what does that even mean? I want you, every single piece of you, every undone and scarred and broken piece. I want the parts of you that are whole and the parts that are incomplete. I want all of you, Marley. I just want you.”
With that, I succumb to the kiss he plants on my lips. I succumb to the consumption of my breath, my lips, by his. His mouth moves over mine, and I give in, his tongue finding mine and swirling in the knowledge that we are undeniably all-in.
He steps forward, pushing me backward, down the hallway. My feet scuttle over the shaggy carpet, plush under my toes as we inch toward his bedroom. Already, he’s undoing my dress, and my hands are finding his belt, unbuckling it as we greedily grasp at each other, the burning desire within me now an unquenchable fire.
When we get to the bed, I let my dress fall, over my hips, crinkling into a heap on the floor as he finishes shedding his pants and yanks his shirt over his head. We are not calm or shy about it, driven by raw instinct and passion that won’t quit.
As quickly as he can, he finds my lips again, kissing me until I feel like I can’t breathe, until I feel like I need him just so I can survive.
He eases me onto the bed, covering my body with his, pulling back only to look into my eyes.
“I love you, Marley Jade. All of you.”
“I love you, too,” I whisper as his hands find my wrists, putting my arms over my head and claiming me as his own as he covers my mouth with his again.
He explores my body, kissing his way down as my heart races with every touch of his lips. The aching longing within me makes it undoubtedly clear; every piece of me is his to do what he will with it. Although I’m still a little scared, I give in, all in, to the truth within me.
I may be all his, but he’s also all mine. He doesn’t let me forget it as we give in to the longings within, exploring each other and giving to each other in ways we never imagined possible that black night on the bridge.
Chapter Fifteen
Marley
When Alex leaves for his shift the next morning, I don’t rush off like I normally would in this type of situation. Instead, I linger a little longer between his plain white sheets, wrapped in his Star Wars comforter in the unfamiliar room that feels so familiar now.
I roll onto my back, smiling at the ceiling, thinking about how, despite everything, I’m lucky.
Last night was the single best night of my life, despite my mom’s outburst. It’s crazy how even during that, I found happiness.
It makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, happiness isn’t forever gone. Maybe Alex can help me find it and keep it. Maybe it’s here to stay.
I think about staying in Alex’s bed until he gets home—I’m off work today. I think about what it would be like to just stay here, to never go back. I fantasize about the freedom, the not having to tiptoe around and worry about where she is or what she’s going to do next.
But then the guilt comes banging at my door. I would still worry. I would feel guilty. I can’t just disappear, no matter how much I want, even if she wants me to.
Sighing, I traipse to Alex’s shower and make do with the limited man products he has. I wash away the beauty of last night, the connection, and realize as the cold, drafty air of the apartment slaps my skin that I’m back to reality.
I’ve washed away last night. I’ve washed away the dream that this right here could be my life.
And I do what I always do. I go crawling back to check on her, to see how she is. I abandon my smile to help her find hers.
***
She’s sitting at the table when I go home, stirring a bowl of oatmeal. The bags under her eyes and her messy hair tell me she’s feeling it this morning like she always does.
“You’re back,” she says, her voice the gravelly one I recognize.
“Yeah.”
There’s a long silence as I stare at her, waiting to see what she remembers. Waiting to see if she remembers.
“I was awful to you last night, wasn’t I?” she asks.
I nod.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
A lie. The lie I’ve told so many times before. Still, the air somewhat cleared between us, I head over to the coffeepot to make some.
“I’m going to take a shower before work. Will you be home later?” she asks.
I turn to look at her, studying her.
Pitying her.
This has become her normal. This, a messy hair, oatmeal, and shower kind of day has become her new high. It’s a good day because she’s managed to get out of bed.
It’s a good day because she’s said she’s sorry, and life will go on like it has. This is what I’ve come to hope for, what I’ve come to expect. This is the reality we’ve both settled for.
I don’t think it’s good enough. Alex has made me realize this isn’t good enough.
“I don’t think so, Mom.”
She doesn’t say anything. The apathy I’ve come to know settles between us as she sloshes her oatmeal around before spooning a heaping tablespoon into her mouth. I wait, like I have for years, for something, anything.
Instead, Mom shoves her mouth full of oatmeal, and I shove the falsely placed hopes right back down where they belong.
***
“Come on, didn’t’ you tell me we should live a little? It’s not that different than kayaking,” Alex coaxes, as I finally shrug and take my T-shirt off, the red bikini top the only cloth between me and him.
“Fine. But I still think it’s too chilly for swimming in the lake.”
It’s the beginning of October, and there’s a definite bite in the afternoon air. The sun is out, and the temperature’s high enough, but the hint of autumn seeps into my bones as I stand in cut-off shorts and a bikini top.
Alex is in some funky board shorts, his Chevy parked underneath a patch of trees by the lake.
We’re about an hour from Rosewood for this adventure, which was Alex’s idea. I smile, thinking about how not long ago, I was the adventurer. Now he’s taken the wheel, always finding something new for us to explore, usually outdoors.
“I’ve created a monster,” I say as I unbutton my shorts. He’s not listening though, intently staring at my fingers as I wriggle my hips and let the shorts fall.
“In many ways,” he responds, grinning at me, stepping forward to pull me in tight. He starts kissing my neck, and I giggle.
“Stop, we’re here to swim.”
“I’m good at multitasking. I do have the doctors’ touch.”
“Oh my God,” I exclaim, pretending to be annoyed. “Stop. Just stop. Get the hell in the water. It was your grand idea to come swimming. So dammit, we’re swimming,” I argue.
It’s a Wednesday, so this part of the lake is pretty barren. Not many people have ventured out to the lake in the middle of an October week. It’s peaceful, only the sounds of nature here.
I pull on his hand and run toward the water, yanking him in after me.
“I’m not going to have to rescue you today, am I?” he asks, and I roll my eyes.
“Okay, are you ever going to let that story go?” I ask as we head in past our knees.
“No way. It makes me sound heroic. Brave even.”
“Okay, if you say so. It’s not like I fell off the Golden Gate, you know.”
We keep heading in, now up to our necks, treading the water near each other. I shiver a little, as does Alex.
“You might be right.
It might be a little bit chilly,” he admits, exhaling like you do in winter when you can see your breath. Of course, he’s being a bit dramatic—it’s not cold enough to make breath rings.
“Well, after our swim, I’m sure we can find a way to warm up,” I say, winking and laughing.
“Okay, I thought you told me we were here to swim? You tease,” he accuses, giving my bottom a gentle slap under the water.
“You like it.”
“I’m not arguing.”
“It’s so pretty here,” I remark, looking around. “I can’t believe I’ve never been.”
“Well, I’m glad we get to experience it together. I can’t wait to experience even more. I can’t wait to take you to California someday with me.”
A few months ago, the thought of California would’ve scared me. The thought of Alex heading back without me terrified me, the prospect of leaving Rosewood not even in the realm of possibility.
But now, surrounded by the murky lake water and the beauty of this place, I smile. I can’t wait to see more with Alex, too. I don’t know how it’s going to work yet. I don’t know what it’ll look like, and I’m not completely ready to dive in.
I’m not running from the idea, though, either. Looking at this gorgeous man in front of me, I think about how wonderful it would be to just jump into life with him, hand in hand, exploring every corner of this globe. I think about all the memories we could make, all the crazy adventures, all the laughs.
I keep treading water, pulling in closer to him now, though. “You know, I’ve been writing more.”
“Really? That’s awesome, Marley.”
“Yeah. I’m thinking about going back to Delilah’s next month. I’ve written three new poems. It’s like I can’t stop.”
“I’m happy for you. That’s amazing.”
“It’s all because of you.”
“No way. I didn’t do this. You did. You just needed a little shove.” He pulls me to him in the water, our arms wrapped around each other.
“Well, regardless, thank you. I owe you.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I’ll take you up on that, you know.”
All of You Page 11
