Concealed - A Hiding From Love Novel #2

by Laurence, Selena

  “So, Mikey!” I holler over to his bay as I get my tools out and look at the work order for the POS Isuzu Trooper sitting in front of me.

  “Yo, bitch,” he replies.

  “Let’s get the girls and go out tonight.”

  Even from halfway down the length of the garage, I can see his eyebrow rise. “You sure, man? You and C are okay and all?”

  “Hell, yeah. We’re great. I told you it’d be fine.”

  He mumbles something under his breath but then says, “Yeah, okay. Let’s get some dinner though. I can’t eat pasta from a can one more night. I really need to learn how to cook.”

  “All right, but I’ve got an after-hours job lined up, so I won’t be done until seven.” While I know I won’t need the money to help Alexis, I’m keeping the after-hours jobs for now. It keeps my mind off of her, and shit, who doesn’t need extra money?

  “Okay. I’ll go home and clean up, grab the girls. Then we’ll pick you up here at seven.”

  “Deal.”

  The rest of the day flew by. I worked on three different cars, barely getting time to shove some lunch in my face before Ramon was yelling at me to drive Betty around the block and show her to his buddy Dan at the Mexican bakery. Ramon had just installed some new fancy wheels and wanted to get Dave’s opinion. Before I pulled out of the parking lot, I made sure Ramon saw me bouncing Betty up and down on her hydraulics. I knew it would piss him off to no end, and it was also a shitload of fun.

  A few minutes after five, Ramon took Betty off to the monthly car club meeting and Mike headed home to get ready for dinner.

  It’s close to seven and I’m finishing up the Ford truck I was doing an oil change on when I hear a car door slam in the parking lot. Figuring it’s Mike and the girls coming early because he’s hungry, I walk out from around the front end of the car, wiping my hands.

  “Dude, you’re like a little kid who can’t go more than a couple of hours without eating. I’m not done with this…” My voice fades away as I stand looking at Alexis.

  Behind her, I see Beth sitting in her car, trying really hard not to look my direction. Alexis is wearing a plain blue t-shirt and an old pair of jeans. Her hair is in a ponytail and her face is free of makeup. She looks beautiful – and tired. Very tired.

  “Hey,” she says with a small, awkward wave.

  “What can I do for you?” I answer, surprised at how monotone my voice sounds when inside I’m a fucking mess.

  I see her smile falter momentarily. Then she pastes it back on. “Can we talk for a minute?”

  I gesture to my garage bay. I don’t offer her a chair even though we keep some folding ones out here. I also don’t take her into the office. I can’t have this discussion while looking at the desk where I made love to her.

  We walk in and I lean up against the truck I’ve been working on and cross my arms. “So, where’s Marco?” I ask.

  “I don’t know.” She looks at me earnestly. “He came back to Austin at the end of that weekend. He and I aren’t together, Gabe. We didn’t… We didn’t get together. He gave us a ride down there and hung out at the hospital for a while with all the neighbors. That’s all, I swear.”

  I nod, my jaw tense as I look at the floor. “Yeah, well, that’s a privilege I didn’t get, so kudos to him.” I see her face fall, but I’m not backing down on this – no way. “Did you need something?”

  She looks like she’s about to cry. I refuse to give in to what that does to me.

  “I, um, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I handled the whole thing with my mom really badly. I panicked, and I know I fucked up. I’m just so sorry. I never meant to hurt you and –”

  I cut her off. “You didn’t mean to hurt me? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Alexis. You ripped my goddamned heart out and tore it into pieces. I gave you everything, I offered you the rest of my life, and you threw it back in my face like it was garbage.”

  She starts to sob, putting her hands over her face. “I’m so sorry,” she cries as she tries to wipe the tears away long enough to look at me. I can’t watch her, so I turn to the workbench and start organizing tools.

  “Gabe,” she whispers, “please.”

  I keep my back to her as I answer quietly. “I can’t, Alexis. I can’t risk it anymore. It hurts too fucking much.”

  I take a deep breath and finally turn back to her.

  “Was there anything else? I’ve got to finish this job before Mike gets back to go to dinner.”

  She looks at me and the hurt in her eyes is palpable. But I can’t give in to it. Not anymore. We had something really incredible, and she tore it apart. I can’t fix that.

  “No,” she answers quietly, continuing to wipe tears away. “I guess not. Just that I’m sorry, and I love you, Gabe. I will always love you.”

  “Thanks for stopping by,” I tell her as I walk around to the front end of the truck, where I start working again.

  I hear her footsteps receding and I swallow down bitter bile. It takes everything I’ve got not to run after her. But I can’t. I can’t subject myself to her anymore. She’ll fucking kill me if I do. She’s like some sort of poison in my veins and there are only two choices: detox or OD.

  I’m choosing life.

  A few minutes later, Mike and the girls pull up. I close up the shop and head out to his car. Carla gets out of the back seat and greets me.

  “Hey there. How was your day?” she asks as I lean down and hug her.

  “Better now,” I tell her. She smiles at me and I breathe for the first time since I saw Alexis standing there. “Come on.” I take her hand and we slide into the back seat together. “I’ll buy you dinner.”

  Alexis

  Estoy desesperadamente enamorado de tí.

  Hopelessly in love with you.

  I make it to Beth’s car and then break down completely. She sits and holds me for a few minutes while my heart bursts all over her upholstery. When I finally get it together enough to quit sobbing, she sits back without saying a word and puts the car in gear to pull out of the parking lot at Ramon’s. Just as we turn onto the street, I see Mike’s car driving in. I notice more than one person inside.

  “Pull over for a minute,” I tell Beth. She looks at me questioningly but does it.

  I watch as Mike parks and Gabe comes out. A blonde I recognize as the one he was bumping and grinding with at Margie’s that night gets out of the car and gives him a big hug. My stomach churns to the point that I think I might vomit. The shock spreads through my body and I start to shake as I watch him take her hand and climb in the back of the car with her, smiling the whole time.

  I turn to look at Beth and see pure, unadulterated pity on her face. “Go. Please,” I whisper. She nods and pulls away from the curb, heading toward home.

  After Gabe tells me I won’t be getting a third chance, I go to my apartment and spend the next few days trying to catch up on all the schoolwork I’ve missed from being gone. It helps take my mind off of the shredded piece of flesh that used to be my heart. I keep my blinds closed all day and all night, but I can’t help but listen for the sound of his bike as he starts it up to go to work in the mornings or comes home in the evenings. I notice he never uses his truck, and I realize I still have a set of keys to it. I can’t bear to give them back though. Not yet.

  It’s been about two weeks after our conversation at the garage, and I’m schlepping my laundry up the stairs late at night when I hear the Harley pulling into the parking lot. I stop midway up the flight to look down toward his apartment. I see him park and turn off the bike. Sitting on the back, wearing his helmet, is the blonde. My heart lurches in my chest. I figured he was dating her, but that’s a far cry from actually seeing them together. The pain is so sharp that I nearly drop the laundry basket I’m carrying. I didn’t know it was possible to be in this much pain, honestly. If I had, I would never, ever have gotten in that car with Marco.

  The girl arcs her leg off the bike, looking like she’s done it a mil
lion times. As she takes the helmet off and swings her long blond hair free, Gabe grabs her around the waist and pulls her toward him. She laughs, head thrown back, as he says something while he nuzzles her neck. Then he gives her a hard peck on the lips and she shrieks before she tosses the helmet at him and races for the door of his apartment. He jumps off the bike and follows her, laughing.

  I’m frozen, absolutely unable to move. I’m not sure I’ve breathed since they pulled up, and I feel something very bad washing through my body. It’s toxic.

  As he gets the key into the door and ushers the girl inside, Gabe looks behind him, up toward my apartment. His eyes land on me standing on the stairs. I see something like regret wash over his face. Then his eyes drop. He shakes his head softly and goes inside, closing the door after him.

  My heart flails inside of me, and I can’t catch my breath. I’m shaking and I break out in a cold sweat. I think about my Mom and her heart attack. Is this what she felt? Could I be having one too? I drop the laundry hamper on the stairs, where luckily it lands right side up so it doesn’t spill my underwear all over the place. I clutch the banister, panting harshly, and sit heavily on the stair below me. Unable to move another foot, I bend over and place my head between my knees as I struggle to breathe, realizing I’m having my very first panic attack, because the idea of living the rest of my life without Gabe is the most frightening thing I’ve ever faced.

  Gabe

  Cuando una puerta se cierra, ciento se abren.

  When one door closes, another opens.

  CARLA and I move from being buddies to dating at some point. I’m such a wreck that I sort of go along with whatever. There’s always been an ease between us, and she’s comforting. She likes me, she wants to spend time with me, I let her. I’m no more miserable around her than I am not around her, so what the hell. At least I have someone to talk to once in a while. It’s slow and simple. We go out once or twice a week, talk on the phone, send each other silly texts. No big deal.

  I know I’ll never be in love again, but I think it’s for the best. I’m not sure anyone’s heart can sustain that level of passion long term. It’s too much to feel – too much joy, too much peace, too much sorrow. Carla’s a friend, someone who takes my mind off of the grinding pain that’s rooted deep in my insides.

  I take Carla with me to some of Ramon’s family events, and she gets along well with Tina. We also spend time with her family over at Mike’s. I meet her mom and dad. They like me, and I even get along with her brothers. It all helps remind me that while I’m alone inside I’m not alone in the world the way I’ve been for so much of my life. Alexis was the only person who ever took the loneliness inside away, but friends are good too.

  There’s no denying Carla is good-looking. Her long blond hair and perfect breasts get plenty of stares when we’re out places. It’s no hardship to spend a few hours curled up to that body, feeling her curves and exploring her mouth with my tongue. But we haven’t slept together. I know the way I lived my life the last few years isn’t an answer to my problems. While I wish I could drown myself in as much dirty sex as I could find, I can’t work up the energy to bother. It won’t solve anything. I didn’t forget her when she was thousands of miles away the last two years. I’m sure as hell not going to forget her when she’s living one hundred feet across the parking lot.

  I know Carla wonders why the hell I don’t move things along, but I don’t care. Regardless of what I told myself and the women I was with all those years, sex changes everything. Sex with her or anyone besides Alexis would make all of this worse, because it would remind me in the most intimate and painful way possible of what I’ve lost. I simply can’t go there. So I have a good relationship with my right hand, and fantasies about Alexis keep me from going completely insane. Some days I want her so badly that I can taste her, smell her, feel her skin under my fingertips. And then I remind myself of what she did – twice – and I remember why things are the way they are.

  Carla and I have come back from a trip to the convenience store to buy some popcorn and candy for the movie marathon we’ve got planned when I see Alexis for the first time since she came to the garage, apologizing for things that are beyond an apology. I’m following C into the apartment when I do what I do every time I walk in or out that door – I look up to Alexis’s place. I know it’s wrong, especially when I’m with Carla, but I’m unable to control it. It’s a flash each time, a moment full of possibility. The possibility I’ll get a glimpse of her, the hope I won’t. The magnetic pull I still struggle with every hour of every day. My addiction.

  This time when I look up, she’s there, standing on the staircase, her hands clutching the railing, her hair tangled and falling in her face. Even from this distance, I can see she’s not well. Her anguish is palpable from fifty feet across a slab of asphalt. She doesn’t move, not a muscle. She simply stands and gazes at me with desperation. It fucking rips me up the center of my soul. Luckily, my body is on autopilot and I continue walking into the apartment and shut the door, leaving her outside in every way possible.

  I excuse myself to Carla and go into the bathroom. I stand there, trying to quiet my breathing. I splash cold water on my face to calm down. I’m livid and sick all at once. I can’t understand what it is I’m supposed to feel. She did this to us, not me. She made the choice, left me, ended what we had with her refusal to trust it. So why do I feel like somehow I’ve wronged her? Why do I have a nearly uncontrollable urge to head right up those stairs and make it all okay for her? No matter what she’s done, it kills me to see her like this, but I can’t bring myself to go to her. I can’t risk it again. I’m barely treading water here and I can’t imagine what one more time could do to me.

  I want to fucking beat on something or someone, and I know I can’t be with Carla right now. I have to get the hell out of this apartment, away from Alexis. I leave the bathroom and shrug back into my jacket.

  “Hey, C?” I say softly as she sits on the sofa, scanning through the channels on the TV.

  She looks up at me, her smile sliding from her face when she gets a view of my expression.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks as she sits forward so she can turn around further.

  I move my head to one side, cracking my neck. “I, uh, I got a text from Ramon. He needs me to go check on something at the shop. Just make yourself comfortable and I’ll be back in a bit. Go ahead and watch one of your chick flicks. I won’t miss it,” I joke, hoping to distract her from the fact I’m ditching out on our date.

  She nods her head solemnly. I can tell she doesn’t believe me, but she’s not going to ask right now. If I know Carla, it’ll be addressed at some point, but not now.

  I give her a quick peck on the cheek, feeling like an ass, and hightail it out of there. When I get outside, I take a deep breath of air, as if my lungs have been deprived for days. I get out my cell phone, shoot off a quick text, and hop on the bike. I can’t get that building behind me fast enough.

  Five minutes later, I walk onto the porch of a small duplex near the UT campus. A short redhead with a pixie cut is sitting on an old porch swing. “He’s baaack,” she crows, imitating Jack Nicholson in The Shining. Even without that, she kind of scares the crap out of me.

  “Behave, Jill,” Beth says as she walks out the front door and sits on the swing too.

  Jill takes a swig from the Coke she’s got in her hand. “Oh fine,” she grumbles. “Takes all the fun out of having him here, but whatever.” She stands up and walks to the door.

  I wave to her as she goes inside, although I get the feeling she couldn’t care less, and then I take her spot on the swing.

  “Hey,” I say to Beth, who is watching me over the top of her reading glasses like a little old lady.

  She smiles, and it fucks with my head just a bit because her resemblance to Alexis is so strong that certain gestures or expressions make my poor heart clutch up like a frozen car engine.

  “So, bad day?” she asks casually. Of c
ourse she knows I only show up on her doorstep when it is. Which it has been pretty regularly over the last month. I never ask if she tells Alexis when she sees me. Somehow I don’t think she does. We started texting when she took pity on me while they were in Floresville helping their mom. We’ve kept it up, and she’s been a sounding board for me when the frustration and the pain get overwhelming. Beth volunteers, counseling women at a halfway house, and I can see she must be really good at her job.

  I lean back and rub my hands over my eyes as if I could wipe away the image of Alexis standing on those stairs, looking so completely destroyed.

  “I saw her.”

  Beth sits up a little straighter. “Did you talk?”

  “No. What the hell would we say? ‘Hey, sorry I ruined you. Can you pass the laundry detergent?’”

  “Give me a break. You seriously think the two of you won’t ever talk again?”

  I take a deep breath. “I don’t know what I think anymore, Beth.”

  “So tell me what happened tonight.”

  My mind flashes back to the way she looked. “Is she okay? I mean, she looked…I don’t know, like she wasn’t feeling well.”

  Beth snorts. “And you’d expect her to be feeling well why?”

  “I don’t know. Isn’t this what she wanted? To avoid the mess of dealing with me and your parents? I thought she’d be relieved. I’m out of the way, so she can find someone Mom and Pop approve of. Maybe Marco will take her back,” I say bitterly.