by Ellie Wade
An instant connection like ours isn’t something most people find in their lifetimes. Yet we had it. Destiny isn’t something I buy into, but you make me want to believe. From the first second I saw you, I wanted to believe in more.
I’ve seen you, all of you, from the beginning. I miss you more than I can convey. My soul aches when I’m apart from you. I’m far from perfect, but I want to try for you. I want to be a man who deserves to be loved by you.
Enjoy your dinner. I sent every dessert on the menu on account of your sweet tooth. ;-)
I love you forever.
Leo
I look up from the note in my hand, tears in my eyes.
“It’s from him, isn’t it?” Quinn sighs.
I nod, running my fingertips over the flowers.
“He’s a smooth talker, Alma. Don’t fall for it. You can’t change him. Remember that.”
I look to her with pained eyes. “I know,” I say.
But I know him. She doesn’t. She can’t possibly understand.
“Have dinner with me?” I grin awkwardly before scrunching up my nose.
She claps her hands together. “I thought you’d never ask!”
Quinn and I sample all of the dishes until we can’t eat another bite. Then, we taste all of the desserts until our stomachs are round with food babies and we have the sugar sweats.
“He did it. He killed us. That was his evil plan all along,” Quinn groans from her bed, holding her stomach.
“It’s pretty cool that he didn’t even eat with us that first day, but he ordered everything we ate. That dinner with you and Amos the day I moved in seems like forever ago. And that mushroom risotto is still one of the best things I’ve ever tried.”
“Yeah, well, he had half the menu delivered, so it was probably luck. And I’m not going to lie; the guy has good taste. Everything that he puts effort into, he excels at. I’m not surprised he ordered all of our favorites.”
He does have good taste. I’m not going to dispute her there.
“Can you pass the tiramisu?” I groan, extending my hand between our beds.
“You can’t possibly eat any more.” She chuckles.
“Just one more bite.”
After the servers come to retrieve the table setup and dishes, I pull out my phone and send Leo a two-worded text.
Thank you.
The next day, I come home after tutoring to another enormous and incredibly gorgeous flower bouquet and a gift basket filled with candy and at least a dozen envelopes. I read the hand-addressed envelope first.
Alma,
The second time I saw you was the same night after Giovanni’s. You had swapped out your baggy T-shirt for a tight black tank top and showed up at the frat house with Quinn. You were ridiculously out of place, which I loved, and even more beautiful, which I hated. I adored that the party life wasn’t your style because as much as I was a slave to it, I hated it. Your innocence was refreshing and drew me in more.
I wanted to scare you away. I wanted you to hate me. You were the light to my dark, the good to my evil, the pure to my tainted soul. You were everything that I wanted but nothing I should have.
After I walked you home and kissed you, it was over for me. I knew then that I had to make you hate me because you would always be irresistible to me. I was terrified that the parts of you that I craved would be destroyed if you let me in.
At that first party, before the drinking game started, you were chatting with some girls about local concerts. Detroit showcases all sorts of incredible artists. I hope you enjoy them all.
I love you forever.
Leo
I begin opening the envelopes that rest between the loads of sweets. Each one contains concert and stadium tours tickets to the shows scheduled in Detroit this coming summer and fall. The variety is eclectic. There’s pop, rock, country, rap, old school, and even a reunited ’80s hair band. I can’t contain my smile because it’s so me. I’m the type of person to belt out Britney Spears’s “Baby One More Time” one moment and then “The Dance” by Garth Brooks the next. I don’t have a favorite genre of music. I simply appreciate amazing songs.
The gift is so thoughtful and expensive, though I know the financial aspect isn’t important to Leo. He has money and enjoys spending it on those he loves.
Loves.
Sigh.
His note is beautiful, and each word hurts my heart. I love him. Of course I do. I’m so confused. I see that he’s trying. He went to rehab. He’s seeing a therapist. He’s showing me that he’s ready for us now. Yet I’m still terrified. I’m trying not to blame Leo for the choices he made due to the trauma of his past. But the truth is that he did make them. We all handle trauma differently, and Leo turned to substances to dull his pain. What if there’s always a part of him that will crave the utter numbness that drugs bring? I won’t be able to handle it. Sometimes, two people can love each other more than anything and not be right for one another. I don’t know if that’s us, but most days, it feels like it is.
Folding Leo’s note, I place it back in the envelope, kiss it, and then hold it against my heart.
I don’t know, Leo. I will him to understand.
I place his words in my top drawer, on top of the letter from yesterday, and grab my new work clothes. I get dressed in black pants and a white button-down and retrieve the apron from the hook beside the door. After a day of classes, homework, tutoring, and now emotional stress in the form of an ex-boyfriend, concerts, and chocolate, I’m completely exhausted.
I’d give anything to take a hot shower and crawl into bed, but I have to make money. Luckily for me, the diner is open eighteen hours a day, so there are always times that I can work in a shift. Luca has been amazing this week, letting me choose my own schedule. I’m hopeful that I’ll earn enough in tips the next couple of weeks that, paired with what I’ve already saved from tutoring, will afford me a place for the summer.
I snatch a Twix from the gift basket on my bed and smile as I head out. I might not have all of the answers, but I’m filled with hope that things will work out for the best.
THIRTY-SIX
Leo
I’ve sent flowers the past ten days. I’ve purchased meals from every restaurant we’ve ever been to and had them delivered. I’ve all but bought out the candy selection at the local store.
Maybe she’s in a sugar coma?
I’ve gone through all of our past conversations, and any interest that she’s ever spoken about, I’ve organized a themed gift around it. Yesterday, I sent her a box filled with Sharpies, gel pens, planners, a calendar, sparkly notebooks, color-coded tabs, and anything else the office supply place had that would speak to Alma’s incredibly organized side. If I know her, it’s her favorite gift so far, and yet the only reply I’ve received is a text that read, Thank you. I just need time.
All I know is that my hand permanently aches from the amount of love notes I’ve written her, detailing every moment of our time together because I remember all of it—every outfit, every smile, every touch, every minute. The fact that more time is passing and we’re not together is enough to send me over the edge, and yet I’m not going there. Instead, I’m going to meetings, therapy sessions, and getting together with my sponsor, Ollie.
I’m fucking running to relieve stress. What the hell have I become? My therapist, Dr. Tucker, tells me that workouts release endorphins that make one feel good—a natural high, if you will. Clearly, he’s never done hard drugs because they don’t compare. You know what else gives one a natural high? Sex. And I’m not having that either.
My days are spent trying to better myself and begging Alma to love me. That about sums up my life. There are only a couple of days left of school, and I’m not sure what she’s doing for the summer, so I’m starting to feel desperate. I don’t know what else to do. I fucked up. I know it. Alma knows it. Everyone who knows me knows it. So, my options are limited.
I can buy Alma the fucking world and rip my heart open for her
to see, and she still doesn’t have to love me back. I can’t make her do anything. Her feisty spirit and willpower have always been two of my favorite things about her, but I’m not loving them so much anymore.
I scan the pictures of Alma and me in my phone, hoping that one of them sparks some more gift ideas. I’m running out of things to send her. I’m a phone call away from buying her a car because I know she needs one badly. I’m afraid that gift would do more to push her away from me than toward me. She’s accepted all of my gifts thus far, but I think she’d see a car as too much. She’s prideful, my little firecracker. Her success is her own, and I don’t want any of my gifts to make her feel less than.
Closing out of my phone, I stand from the couch and head for the door. I need food. The extreme amount of exercise makes me hungry all the damn time. I normally have my meals delivered, but a change in scenery is needed. The walls of my house feel like they’re closing in every second that she’s not there.
Luca’s chili-cheese fries always make things better. The bell chimes when I open the door. Her deep browns widen when they see me, but a smile doesn’t find my lips. Why is she here? She looks exhausted, beautiful as always but completely beat. She has bags under her eyes, and the sight almost causes me to lose my shit. What in the world is going on?
I inhale deep and take a seat. This was going to be a carryout run, but now that I’ve seen her …
She sets a plastic glass of water down in front of me. “Hey,” she says softly. “The usual?”
“You work here?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?” I attempt to keep the edge out of my voice, but I fail as the question comes up clipped and demanding.
She chews on her bottom lip and sighs. “I need the money, Leo. I’m out of the dorms in three days, and I need more than I’ve saved with tutoring.”
I take her hand in mine, and she flinches before the corner of my lips tilts up slightly. I endeavor to make my words communicate the concern I feel but not the anger over the fact that she is struggling and didn’t come to me.
“You look really tired, Alma.”
She has to know I would do anything for her.
“It’s just the past two weeks. I’ve picked up hours with tutoring to help students study for exams and complete final projects. Plus, I’m finishing my own assignments and studying for exams. Then, I’ve been working here as much as I can because I only have three days until I need to find a place. You don’t have to worry about me. I haven’t gotten enough sleep as usual, but classes are almost over. I’ll be fine.”
I don’t say everything I want to say. I want to yell and tell her that she’s killing herself when I could be helping her. It would be nothing for me to help her. She shouldn’t be picking up extra tutor shifts. She shouldn’t be working here. She shouldn’t be stressing about money when I would give her everything if she’d take it. She should be studying for her exams, getting extra sleep, and enjoying her last weeks as a freshman. I’m so fucking livid at her, at me. How did I not know she was struggling? I didn’t know because I’ve never wanted for a dime my entire life. It didn’t even cross my mind that she was stressing out about the dorms closing. I’m such an asshole.
I want to scream all of these things, but I don’t.
“You know you could’ve asked me for help.” The ache in my voice is unnerving. “I would do anything for you.” I run my thumb across the palm of her hand.
“I know you would, but it’s not your problem. I’m capable.”
Fuck that. It’s not my problem? And of course, she’s capable. That’s not the point.
“How many exams do you have left?” I ask evenly.
“Two tomorrow and two Friday, and then I’m done.”
My eyes catch a glimpse of the sparkly gel pens lined up in her apron, and I have to hold back the cheesy grin. I knew she’d love them.
“Good.” I release her hand with a gentle squeeze and say, “I’ll just have my regular, please.”
My food comes, and I eat as I watch Alma flit around to the rest of the customers. She’s so flipping cute. God, I love her. When she goes to the back to retrieve some ice, I wave Luca over.
“How’s my favorite customer?” he greets me with a grin.
“Not good,” I snap under my breath. “You’re working Alma to death. Can’t you see that she’s exhausted?”
“Leo, my boy, I’m only trying to help her. She seemed desperate for money, so I gave her a job. I let her pick her own hours.” Luca wipes the palms of his hands against his black apron.
“I know you’re trying to help her, but I’ll make sure she has enough money this week. After I leave, I need you to tell her to go home early tonight. Tell her that you’re overstaffed for the next two days and have to cut her shifts. She has exams to finish, and she’s not sleeping because of this job. I will come in and work for you if her absence leaves you in a bind. Just please tell her to go home and not come back for at least two days. Please?”
Luca nods. “Okay, I can do that, and I’ll be fine. As I said, she picks her hours. I was only trying to help.”
“You’re a good person, Luca. Thank you.”
Luca leaves to attend to customers, and I write Alma a note on a napkin.
Alma,
I’m not giving this to you for any reason other than your excellent service. Your server skills are the best I’ve seen. Once again, this is your tip. Nothing more. My fries were delicious, and my server was exquisite.
Rock your exams.
I love you forever.
Leo
I pull out the cash in my wallet, a little over two thousand dollars, and leave it beneath the napkin. With a nod toward Luca, I walk out.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Alma
Amos steps into the room, and instinctually, my arms fly around his neck. He picks me up and spins me around. My leg knocks over a stack of boxes.
“Oops.” I giggle as he sets me down. “We did it!”
Our hands meet in a high five.
“One year down,” he says with a huge grin. “How were your exams?”
“Good! I think I aced them all. How about you?”
“Pretty sure I aced mine too,” he says. “So, Quinn’s at her last exam, and then we’ll celebrate?”
“Yep, dinner and then a party before she leaves for home tomorrow. She just left, so we should be finished moving before she’s done. It’ll only be one car load.” I pick up the boxes that my foot just kicked to the ground.
“So, the new place is close?”
“Yes. I got this little studio apartment about a block away. I’m surprised I found one so easily at the last minute, but I guess a bunch of places become available at the end of the year with people changing their summer plans and stuff. It’s less than a block from work too.”
I leave out the part about Leo’s tip, but with the money I saved and Leo’s money, I was able to pay for all three summer months up front and have plenty to spare. I plan to continue to work at Luca’s. Maybe I’ll save enough this summer to buy a car.
I haven’t seen Amos in a while with the end-of-school craziness. We’ve both been so busy, and come to think of it, I’m not sure he and Quinn have spoken much. I don’t really pry since I’m friends with both of them. If there is trouble in paradise, I’m sure my advice would be biased somehow.
Amos starts collecting my clothes, which I’ve shoved into big garbage bags, and places them by the door. “I think Quinn and I are cooling off,” he says, as if reading my thoughts.
“Yeah?”
“We haven’t seen each other in a long time, and to be honest, I don’t miss her, you know? We had a lot of fun this year, but I don’t know if it’s deeper than that. Maybe we’re best as friends,” he says.
“With benefits?” I quirk up a brow, causing Amos to laugh.
“If she wants. I mean, I’m down.” He shrugs with a smug grin.
I’m sure they’ll have all sorts of benefits flying around aft
er the party tonight. They’ll probably be needing the shower for a good long time.
Amos glances at my bed and notices all of the gifts and baskets on it. He squints and walks over. “Is this stuff from …” His voice trails off as he picks up the envelope stuffed with concert tickets.
“Yeah,” I respond immediately. No use in denying it.
Amos’s face jerks toward mine, his eyes angry. “You’re not back together with him. Are you?”
“No.” I shake my head with a glance toward my feet.
“Alma, please tell me you’re not thinking about going back to him.” His voice is stern but pleading.
I let out a sigh. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” His voice rises an octave, and honestly, it’s the first time in my life I can remember that happening. Amos is always cool as a cucumber, especially with me.
I raise my palms, urging him to calm. “Don’t get upset. I don’t know. There are a lot of things that you don’t know about him. A great deal of information has come to light fairly recently that’s changed the way I think of him. He’s a good person, Amos, and he’s sorry. He was in rehab for months, and now, he’s in NA—Narcotics Anonymous—and seeking help. He’s better … and I miss him.”
Amos closes his eyes and rubs his temples. “I can’t believe you right now.” He shakes his head before looking to me, confusion in his stare. “You grew up with druggies, Alma. You know what that life is like. I get that you miss him, and that’s okay, but you’re not weak. You’re the strongest person I know. You’re better than Leo in every way. Don’t sell yourself short. You saw him. We both did. You know what he was involved in. It made you literally sick. Don’t forget that because I’m telling you right now that an addict is always an addict. It’s just a matter of time before he slips again. You deserve better than that, and you know it. Getting back together with Leo isn’t just getting back together with the parts you love. It’s all of it. You’d be dating that person we saw high as a kite in that crack house because … that is who he is.”
