THIRTY-THREE
As I finish getting ready for today’s shift, my brain works non-stop, thinking about Willow and Dylan. I want to keep my distance and not blur lines, but it’s hard.
It’s so damn hard.
That day that I spent with both of them was such blissful torture, a glimpse of what my dream used to be—what it still may be, and I just couldn’t admit it out loud.
A life by her side.
However, it feels like I’m walking on thin ice. Every second that goes by is critical in the sense that if I say or do the wrong thing, it will all slip away out my hands—once again.
All I could think about was being close to her, smelling her, and kissing her.
The proximity is still as intoxicating as it was. Having Dylan, though, makes it all different. New. Brighter. On a few occasions, he’s left me speechless with his cheekiness and impulsive moments—reminding me so much of myself when I was his age.
Quickly, it feels like the gaping hole that has been weighing on my chest for a while is finally being filled. It’s closing, healing. So much so that my heart feels like it’s going to burst sometimes.
And while I understand her hesitancy and doubts, not wanting to grow a lot of hope only for it to be shattered, I can’t help but think—would dare say feel it, too—that he is mine. There is no way he isn’t.
Despite the personality traits he is already developing, the physical similarities are striking. The eye colour, the skin tone…In my brain, there isn’t any other alternative.
And oh my, is that possibility amazing. Sure, it will probably mean a lot of changes. Priorities would change and routines, too. The hospital would no longer be my number one concern, but my third.
My cell phone rings just as I finish putting my shoes on, cutting off my happy train of thought. When I pick it up, I groan at the sight of the name on the screen.
“Hey, Mum,” I greet after accepting the call.
“My boy,” she coos. “How are you?”
“Great.” It’s true.
She just doesn’t need to know why I have been so great; my parents have a tendency to kill all happiness around them.
“Good, good,” she comments. “I have such great news for you!”
“What’s up?”
“Your brother is back,” she squeals from the other side of the line, almost bursting my eardrum.
I can’t help but sigh. This is a rabbit hole we’re going down. I know. I’ve been there.
After everything went down with Willow, I was a wreck. When it became clear she wasn’t coming back and wasn’t going to be in contact, I had to find other ways to cope.
One of them was studying, which is why I managed to finish high school one year earlier. I’m no genius, but I worked too fucking hard.
The other was knowing that once I finished high school and started college, my parents would pay whatever they needed to ensure I was well off while studying. That meant an apartment, and of course, I saw it as the perfect excuse to help Mason without them knowing.
While settling here, I tried to find the areas he spent his time in and the people he met with to try and grow a pattern of which areas to look for him. When I couldn’t, I paid for some help.
Still, it was too late.
Addiction is like a bottomless pit, where no matter how much you feed it to try and fill it, it’s never satisfied. It’s a sick disease that only takes. And it takes, not only from the person who has it but everyone else around them, too.
And my brother was so deep into his drug addiction that my offer of a place to live for free in a new city with new opportunities wasn’t as alluring as offering him a line. He barely talked to me or even looked me in the eye the last time I saw him.
And it broke my heart, too, to think that he was so hopeless and misguided to turn to this as his only way out. My parents and I had failed him, and by then, if he didn’t want help, there was nothing I could do. Or so I tell myself.
And that’s why I wonder what his reason to be back is. What happened? Has he reached that low that he finally woke up? Or is he just pretending to get money?
“Is he hogging you guys for money?” I blurt out.
There’s got to be something to it.
“Liam!” Her tone is harsh. “He says he’s clean and yet, just to prove it, he’s wanting to do a second month of rehab. It will be good to cement his improvement.”
I keep quiet because her words surprise me. Has he finally realised he needs help?
“He wants to make amends with all of us.”
This is all too sudden.
They never got along. My parent’s pressure and unrealistic expectations suffocated Mason into rebellion, into bad company and bad decisions. And now, they’re all turning a blind eye to all of these years of hurt and pretending like nothing happened? Like they aren’t part of the problem?
They made Mason find a job to survive, couch-surf acquaintances, and take drugs to forget. He stole, disappeared, and never looked back. My parents never looked for him either.
Where is all of this coming from?
“Are you sure?” I ask after a while.
“Yes.” She doesn’t hesitate in answering. “He’s put on weight, he has clear skin, and he’s sober. He looks so good, Liam, and he regrets all he’s put us through.”
Her words make me sigh, partially in relief that he is in fact alright. The other half, though, is still quite reluctant.
But he’s my brother anyway; I’ll have to forgive him someday. And if he’s trying, then I am willing to give him a chance.
“I’m glad, then. I hope he stays on track,” I answer.
“We’re going to visit you soon,” my mum coos. “Mason wants to see you. And we miss you so much. You never visit anymore.”
I barely do, ever since I moved here. Of course, this is the perfect excuse for them to come here without me being able to tell them I’m busy.
“Mum, I’ll be pretty much swamped until after Christmas…” There’s no harm in trying. Right? “Why don’t you come for New Year’s instead? It’s only a month away.”
“If you insist,” she whines. “I’d rather go for Christmas, but there’s no point in being there if you are working. I want us to have some family time. We haven’t had it in so, so long.”
No shit.
The mention of family time automatically reminds me of Willow and Dylan. Willow and Dylan. Shit. My parents will not take this well; I know it.
Maybe I should tell them right away?
“Mum…” I trail off. “There’s someone tha—”
”Oh, my!” she cuts me off. “You finally got yourself a girlfriend? It’s about time!” I can hear the excitement in her voice. “Is she from your class? Who are her parents? Is she from a good family?”
“Mum,” I sigh. “Maybe we can arrange for you guys to meet them, someday. How’s that?”
“Yes! That’d be—wait a minute!” If this weren’t real life, I swear I could listen to the gears turning inside her brain. “Them?”
“Yes,” I admit, excited. It’s impossible to not get attached to Dylan. “She has a son, a little kid, his na—”
“Oh, no. No, no.” She shrieks with a high-pitched voice, and I can hear shuffling around.
Probably scurrying to get my father. Ah, fucking hell….
“John!” she yells. “Your son has gone crazy, for real this time! He’s been the victim of a scammer. Some skank has been brainwashing him!”
Fuck me. For once, I thought they’d be happy for me. For once, I thought my parents would genuinely be excited for me, for my happiness. Of course, they wouldn’t. The Davises and their life of appearances.
Way to kill my cloud-nine mood. Fate really is a cold-hearted bitch. One has to be truly evil to pull me headfirst down to earth, after all of the rollercoasters these past few weeks have been.
For the first time in years, when I can almost say I feel close to being happy, my parents had to fucking ruin it.
“Mum, she doesn’t want any money, and she didn’t even want me to meet him.” That’s actually true, as well. “Give her a chance before you start throwing all kinds of insults.”
“Liam, son,” my father’s calm and cold voice sounds from the speaker. “I will not allow you to date this...gold digger.”
“Alright, that’s it,” I grumble before hanging up on them and shutting off my phone.
I’m not taking this bullshit any longer. I’m a grown-ass man, and their approval can fuck off for all I care.
After the shift from hell, my body is begging me to go to sleep for a day and a half, but I had promised Saul and the guys to catch up over some drinks. Especially because we haven’t seen each other since that night out in early September.
Residency really takes social life away from you. And while I’m tired as fuck on a Friday night, I’m still excited to meet my friends tonight.
“Hey, man. You finally made it!” Saul greets me with open arms and a grin on his face, and I can’t help but grin back while hugging him.
“I told you I’d come, didn’t I?” We all laugh.
I greet both Paul and Victor next before sitting down next to them. The wooden surface, between the three of us, already has three half-drank glasses of beer; they’ve probably been waiting for me for a while.
“How have you been? We’ve barely been able to see each other,” Paul chimes in.
“Between residency and finishing up my master’s…” I trail off. “It’s been hell.”
There’s this gnawing urgency inside me to tell them about Willow and Dylan, but I kind of don’t want to, too. Nor do I feel like I should. To make them understand everything, I’d have to tell parts of the story that are not mine to tell—even if I want to shout to the world that we’ve reconnected.
To them, she’s just the girl who got away, who disappeared from my life, and I’m not sure if that should change or not.
I love these guys to death. They put up with my wild days in college and saved my ass from a ton of problems and angry boyfriends, but this is different. Having Willow back and Dylan as an extension of her feels too personal to be sharing tonight. Is that because there’s a part of me who wants to keep them all to myself? Maybe.
“Nah…” Saul snarks. “I don’t believe that. There’s this thoughtful look on your face. The last time I saw it was when we met back in freshman year.”
“That’s right!” Victor agrees. “Some chick finally got your attention?”
These assholes see right through me. Is there any point in denying it? No. But I can keep the details to myself.
“You could say that.” A smirk finds its way onto my lips.
“Ohh,” they all exclaim in unison.
Right at that moment, the bartender passes by, and I ask him for a beer. The guys down the rest of theirs, too, before asking for seconds.
“Right, now spill!” Saul exclaims. “Is this the goddess you met in the club a couple of months ago?”
My hand, which has been drawing circles on the table so far, freezes at the mention of Johanna. She is gorgeous and hot, I can’t deny it. And I can’t help but be sad that I had to put an end to it. But thinking back to every moment we spent together, it can’t come close to what Willow and I share.
Could never.
“No,” I answer. “And it’s not just some girl. It’s the girl.”
“What?”
I can’t help but grin as all of them look at me wide-eyed.
“The one who had you spiral back in freshman year?” Victor asks.
“Yeah,” I agree.
“Fucking hell,” Saul curses. “Tell us everything, man.”
“All you guys need to know,” I tell them pointedly, “is that we met a few weeks ago and have been talking. You know…” I trail off. “We’ve been clearing things out. All the questions and misunderstandings.”
“Ugh, party-pooper,” Paul whines when their third—my first—round of beer arrives.
“Fuck off.” I laugh. “And you guys? News?”
One by one, they all tell me their news. Saul is a physiotherapist. We just shared a couple of subjects back in our first year of college, but we got along right off the bat. Paul and Victor followed, a few weeks later at some random party. They’re from different areas, but the friendship we developed is solid.
It’s a shame that we can’t spend as much time together as we used to. Time flies by as we catch up. So much so, it’s close to three in the morning when I finally look down at my watch.
“Guys, I have to go.” They boo me. “I have a double shift tomorrow. I need to get some sleep.”
“Workaholic,” Saul coughs up the word, teasing me.
“Shut up, asshole,” I counter, standing from my chair and saying goodbye to all of them.
Twisting my arms, I put my jacket on, covering my body from the chilly temperatures that will surely hit outside. Thankfully, it’s not a dancing kind of place, so the walk outside is easy.
Just as I expected, the freezing air blows against my face, and all I can think about as I walk to my car is the warmth from my fluffy bed. A loud curse roots me in place, directing my attention to the stumbling woman right next to a very familiar car.
Johanna. She holds onto the side of the car, to bend down and pick up what I reckon to be her car keys, only to fall to the ground. Without thinking twice, I rush over to her, helping her up.
“Hey, Johanna?” I call slowly to try and have her look at me. “It’s me. It’s Liam.”
With hooded eyes, she smiles lazily, her hand patting my cheek. With the exhale of her weak smile, the stench of alcohol reaches my nostrils.
“Am I dreaming?” she slurs, looking up at the sky before looking back at me.
“No–”
“I was asking for you to come and save me, and you’ve appeared. My knight in a shining armour.”
“How much did you have to drink, Jo?”
“Enough.” With a high giggle, she tries—and fails—to stand up on her own.
Bringing both of us to the ground, I sigh. There’s no way I’ll let her drive in such a state. My hand reaches forward, picking her keys up before I help her up—again.
“Come on,” I urge. “I’ll take you home.”
“Pffft, I can take care of myself,” she counters.
“Right. Let’s go.”
“Aren’t you back with your little girlfriend?” When I don’t answer, she continues, “Go back to her. I don’t want your help.”
“You don’t need to want it. You’ll get it either way,” I answer, gently pulling her with me. Surprisingly, she doesn’t put up a fight. At least, not with her body.
“You can’t do this,” she whines.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“Be nice. You broke up with me before we even had a chance to be good. You don’t get to be nice and make me like you even more.”
Her eyes well up, teardrops starting to stream down her face, bringing with it some of her mascara. Fuck. I really played a fucking number on her. Even if I didn’t mean to.
“You’re right,” I agree. “I am not trying to be nice. You’re in a vulnerable situation, right now. You’re drunk and not thinking straight, and I couldn’t live with myself if I let you drive like this or left you by yourself. It’s dangerous!”
We reach my car, and she grumbles in agreement. I take the win before she changes her mind, helping her inside the back seat and driving her home. After a quick ten-minute ride, I park right in front of her building.
“We’re here. Want me to walk you to the door?”
“Please.” Her weak whisper breaks my heart.“Liam?”
“Yes, coming.” With that, I quickly leave the car, round it and open the door for her.
This time, she initiates the physical contact, her body no longer shaky as it was before. My body relaxes a bit, knowing she’s slowly getting a grasp of herself.
“Do you have someone you want to call to come and stay with you?” I ask her.
“Ahm, no,” she mumbles, rummaging through her bag for her keys. “My parents are on vacation for the week.”
“A friend or someone?” I press.
I’d be less worried if I knew she wasn’t going to spend the night by herself after this.
“No. It’s fine,” she answers. “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
She smiles weakly, her eyes jumping down from my eyes to my lips for a second before locking her gaze with mine.
“I knew I liked you for a reason,” she confesses, bringing her hand to my cheek.
I can’t help but smile lightly, tenderly cupping her hand with mine. A couple of months ago, my mind slowly filled with thoughts of her. Funny how quickly it changed, and she is just a fleeting memory I’m fond of. A good friend.
Oh, so different.
Nonetheless, she’s an amazing woman and is deserving of a man who can fall head over heels for her. Someone who only has eyes for her. I am just not that guy.
Yet, the words get stuck in my throat as I watch her lean closer to me in slow motion.
“I was trying to forget you,” she whispers as her hot breath hits my face. “But I can’t.”
There’s a sliver of hope that she’s not about to try to do what I think she is, not after I told her we couldn’t pursue a relationship.
But when her tongue comes out, licking at her own lips, my common sense returns in full force as one specific face crowds my brain.
Willow.
My chest tightens right at the moment our noses bump into each other. No.
My hands grip her shoulders, slowly pushing her away from me.
“Johanna,” I call weakly. “You’re a stunning woman, and you don’t need to beg anyone for attention from no one. Especially not from me.”
“I thought that by having closure, you’d finally see me…”
“I see you,” I admit. “But you aren’t seeing me. I don’t expect anyone else to understand, but to me, there’s no one else. My heart only has space for Willow. I’m sorry.” Not answering, she searches my eyes for something. Maybe to gauge if I’m telling the truth. When she finally seems pleased with my answer, she nods, and I add, “Please, call someone; otherwise, I’ll worry about you.”
She repeats the movement, sliding her key into the lock of the building before mumbling a “Sorry.”
“Goodnight,” I tell her, right before the door closes with her disappearing behind it.
With the lone company of my thoughts, I go back home, eager for some rest that never comes as I think about tonight’s events. Being drunk and alone was such a reckless move for Johanna, but I also get that she’s hurting.
How many times have I drank myself into a stupor while wallowing in my sorrows?
Way too many times.
The difference is that I don’t automatically turn into a target when hammered drunk. She was lucky I was the one who found her tonight…other women aren’t that lucky.
And that thought automatically brings me to one person. Willow.
Even though the scenarios and circumstances were really different, tonight, I was there to help Johanna. But Willow, she had no one.
All of the hurt and betrayal I once felt for her are now entirely replaced by guilt and respect. Because this woman, that truly, I never stopped caring about, still managed to go on and rebuild her life. Completely by herself.