Ronan
You know those sci-fi movies where people are trapped in space for centuries, maybe millennia, their bodies suspended in hyper sleep, and then something happens and they finally wake up? That’s how it feels the second I lay eyes on Cat, see her in all her perfection. Holy shit, it’s like an explosion of color and sound. Life and love radiate off her in powerful waves and crash into me, my lungs expanding with what feels like my first real breath in months. Without Cat I exist, but with her I’m alive.
I’m relieved to have her back, to see her, to make sure she’s alright. I’ve been a tightly wound ball of nerves since Sunday, since she finally told me what Adam had been doing, and I hope to God she finally told me everything rather than just half of the story.
As soon as I got off the phone with her on Sunday, I called my best friend to set things into motion. I had two priorities in that moment. Number one: make sure Cat wasn’t alone. Number two: find a way to get home.
I was on the phone with Shane no more than thirty seconds before I yanked open the door to my bedroom and made my way downstairs to find my grandparents.
I found them in their private quarters comprised of the master bedroom and bath and a small office. My grandfather opened the door for me in the exact moment that my dad answered my call. He had to be the one to bring me home, so of course I dialed his number as soon as I hung up with Shane.
“Dad, it’s me,” I said, pressing the speaker button on the phone. I needed to talk with my dad and my grandparents together.
“What’s going on?” my dad and grandfather asked at the same time, their voices so similar in intonation and octave. My grandmother approached with a concerned expression.
“Dad, I need you to bring me home. Now!”
My grandparents frowned.
“Why? What happened?” my dad asked while my grandparents studied me quietly.
“Cat’s in trouble, Dad.”
I provided him and my grandparents with a brief synopsis of what was going on, divulging only the most important details, always mindful not to disclose things Cat wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing herself. My grandmother gasped a bunch of times while my grandfather’s face darkened with each additional word.
“I need to come home, Dad. Now,” I repeated with a growl, feeling anxious, stuck, fucking trapped.
“Baby boy.” My grandmother started toward me, her hand stretched out to touch my cheek, but I stepped out of her reach. I knew she was trying to provide comfort; she’d probably recognized a long time ago that gentle touch soothes me. But I didn’t have the patience for it.
My dad exhaled deeply. “Ran, I don’t think… I mean, Doctor Seivert hasn’t said you’re ready, and—”
“It doesn’t matter!” My voice was getting louder with each word.
“Absolutely it matters!” he argued back authoritatively, but it didn’t affect me. I was too damn worried about Cat.
“Dad, you have to bring me home eventually for this damn trial anyways. You think two or three weeks is going to make a huge fucking difference? I guarantee you it won’t,” I shouted so loudly, so forcefully, that my grandmother gave a startled jump. I would have felt guilty for scaring her if I hadn’t been so damn worked up.
“Ran, you need to calm down,” my dad said. As if telling someone to just calm down has ever worked.
“Fuck that, Dad!” I paced like a lion roaming its cage. “I’m always calm. Always. Even with everything that’s happened, I never lose my shit, but this is different, Dad. It’s not about me! Cat’s in danger. Dad, don’t tell me you’d be able to stay put if you knew Penny was in trouble. Athair? Would you be able to just sit around knowing Morai needed you? I’m not going to find any rest if I can’t… if I can’t be with her, Dad.”
“God, Ran,” my dad groaned. I imagined him running his hand through his dark hair. He wanted to argue with me, but he couldn’t. I knew he couldn’t; I knew he’d feel exactly the way I did. He’d want to make sure Penny was safe. “Dad, you can either bring me home, or I’m going to find a way to get back to New York myself. I’ll take the damn truck and drive two days straight if I have to. Your call,” I told him matter-of-factly, coming to a dead stop in the middle of my grandparents’ bedroom.
My dad exhaled noisily while I stared at my grandparents, my brow set, jaw tight.
“Fine,” my dad rumbled. “Give me some time to get this figured out.”
And he did get it figured out. Not quite as speedily as I had wanted. He and my grandparents were probably hoping I’d simmer the fuck down, would come to my senses once I realized Cat wasn’t in imminent danger, but my mood didn’t change significantly, even after my therapy session with Doctor Seivert the following Tuesday.
I mostly fluctuated between a state of worry for Cat and searing rage at Adam. It was in the evenings, though, when my body came to rest, that my thoughts drifted to the fact that she sent nude photos of her perfect body to some guy not only during their relationship, but during ours, too. Sure, the rational part of me understands she didn’t do so by choice, but a different part of me can’t help but feel wounded. I found peace only in the knowledge that Cat was safe, at least temporarily. She was in North Carolina with her dad and, hopefully, far from Adam.
My dad called my grandmother Wednesday evening just after dinner. I was about to head to bed when my grandmother called me back down, handing me the phone with an expression of both elation and sadness.
“Is everything alright?” I asked into the phone. I wasn’t expecting to talk to my dad in the middle of the week, and I wondered if I’d ever be able to face unexpected things without immediately going into fight-or-flight mode.
“Yeah,” my dad had chuckled. “Just calling to tell you that I booked your flight. You’re coming home Friday,” he said, leaving me utterly speechless.
“Wait, this Friday?”
“This Friday.”
“The day after tomorrow?” It was just not sinking in that I’d get to go home, that I’d finally see Cat again.
“You’ll be home in roughly forty-eight hours.”
“Holy shit,” I said, fully expecting my grandmother to protest my word choice, but she just smiled at me.
***
My return trip home couldn’t have been more different from the plane ride to Montana five months ago. When I left New York, I lived in a constant state of exhaustion. I was a damn zombie. Yesterday, I was hyper. As soon I spotted the city underneath me out of the plane’s window, I could hardly sit still. It was a mixture of excitement and anxiety, and I tried to do all the breathing, the redirecting, the distracting that Doctor Seivert had been pounding into my head over the last seven months. I kept my eyes closed for the descent and the landing, my knee bouncing in anticipation of what was waiting for me.
Once landed, I grabbed my backpack from the overhead bin and made my way through the jet bridge and into the terminal, where it took me only a second to spot my dad. And, fuck, it felt good to see him. He met me halfway, grinning from ear to ear. He pulled me into a giant bear hug as soon as I was within reach, holding me for an uncomfortably long time, and he laughed when he felt me squirm, trying to move out of his hold.
I didn’t bring much with me to Montana to begin with. We quickly collected my duffel bag from baggage claim before making our way home. My dad and I chatted for a little bit in the car. He told me that he hadn’t told Steve I was coming home that day—surprise—and that Penny was at the house making dinner. I’m still not sure how I feel about her living with us, but I guess I’ll find out soon. He wanted to know about my flight and how I felt being home, commenting on how good I look.
“You’ve packed on muscle,” he said, giving my arm a squeeze. “I’m glad to see your clothes fit you again.”
“Yeah, Morai made sure I ate… a lot,” I told him dryly, making him laugh.
“I figured she would,” he said with a nod. “She was really worried about you when you got there. Well, we all were,” he added with an evaluative glance at me. “So, now what, kiddo? I got you home, even though I’m not sure you’re ready. What’s your plan?”
“I honestly don’t know, Dad. I just know I needed to come home. I can’t be away from Cat when there’s a chance her ex...” I trailed off.
He nodded. “That guy sounds like a real piece of work. I get why you want to be here, Ran. Jen told us he’s been extorting Cat.”
The thought that my dad’s girlfriend is best friends with Cat’s mom still boggles my mind.
“But Ran, your health, your recovery, that has to take priority. Don’t do anything rash!”
I didn’t say anything. Truth is, whenever there’s a threat to Cat’s safety I seem to act before I think, and I wasn’t about to lie and tell him I’ll for sure keep a cool head if I come face to face with this asshole again. Hopefully it won’t come to a physical confrontation; maybe the cops finally find Adam and lock him up without him getting anywhere near Cat, but I’m not leaving things up to chance. Not when it comes to the best thing that has ever happened to me.
Traffic was typical for a Friday afternoon in the city, and I ended up falling asleep about twenty minutes into the car ride. I was exhausted, probably not just from getting up earlier than usual and the long trip, but also the pretty steady dose of adrenaline throughout the day.
I knew that coming home would mean I’d be exposed to things that could set me off without warning, and while I’ve been working on ways to ground myself, I was—and still am—terrified of what being back in the house might do to my nervous system. And I don’t even want to think about going to trial and facing my mother in a few weeks.
But the second I stepped foot into the house, it felt different from when I left. Maybe it was because my dad had actually been living there; maybe it was because of Penny and the energy she brought to the home; or maybe it was a combination of both. I have no idea, but the panic I thought would crash into me the moment I walked into what used to be my own personal hell didn’t come. It’s hard to explain, but it felt like there was life in the house.
I had always worked on keeping the house tidy, never leaving a mess because messes gave my mother a reason to punish me. Shoes were always neatly stacked in a shoe rack, and there was never a dish in the sink longer than the five minutes it took to wash, rinse, and dry it. The floors were clean, and the laundry was mostly done. Not that it mattered. My mother still found reasons to pick it apart. But when I stepped into the house last night, it looked and felt lived-in. I saw shoes lined against the wall, a woman’s purse hanging next to a light coat on the hook of the coat closet door, and unopened mail sitting next to a set of house keys atop the small sideboard underneath the hallway window.
“Hi ,” Penny chirped from the kitchen, and she quickly came to meet us in the hallway. It was weird to see her kiss my dad. She hesitated before giving me an awkward hug. “You look great,” she said, her voice light, almost melodic, before turning toward my dad. “Perfect timing, dinner’s ready,” she said and walked back into the kitchen.
I watched her walk, analyzing her features.
She’s so unlike my mother. Penny’s long hair is dark brown, matching her dark eyes, and she’s petite, maybe 5’2”. Her face is heart-shaped, and her eyes are soft and hold warmth. She walks softly, too, unimposing, unthreatening. Her voice is harmonious. She seems genuinely nice, but what’s more is that it’s fucking obvious that my dad is head over heels for her.
I watched him follow her into the kitchen where he gently wrapped his muscular arms around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck. I couldn’t recall ever seeing my dad act like that with my mom. Penny looked even tinier in my dad’s arms, who at 6’5” towers over her, his sturdy, cut frame almost swallowing her.
The kitchen, too, had a completely different vibe. It almost gave me anxiety seeing the sweater hanging over the back of one of the chairs, various items strewn over the countertop, a few dishes stacked in the double kitchen sink.
“Hey, Dad,” I called into the kitchen from the hallway. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go upstairs and take a quick shower, okay?”
He gave me a once-over before nodding. “Sure, bud,” he said in his deep voice.
My room was almost exactly the way I left it five months ago, and my heart ached when I noticed the spot at the foot of my bed where Onyx would sleep—empty now. Guilt is something I still struggle with, and I feel weighed down by the fact that I wasn’t here with Onyx during her last days. She was my dog, after all, and I was her person. Then I left.
I dropped my duffel bag to the floor, then just stood for a moment, looking around my familiar surroundings. When it came to my house, I had always been safest right here in my room. My mother never hurt me in here. The violence was only ever inflicted downstairs. Maybe even she respected the sanctity of my bedroom.
I noticed my closet door and immediately smiled to myself. It was cracked open. When I opened it wider, I could tell that someone had rummaged through my clothes. I love that Cat was in here during my absence, that she touched my stuff, that she took some of my shirts to provide her with some comfort while I was gone.
Eventually I walked to the small Jack-and-Jill bathroom, chuckling at Steve’s stuff everywhere. Then I stood under the shower, head dipped down, hot water running down my neck and back for an eternity before I finally dried off, put on some sweatpants, and slipped into a fresh shirt. I smiled to myself when I remembered Cat sleeping in my shirts at night.
I made my way back downstairs where I joined my dad and Penny at the small dining table and ate the spaghetti Penny had made. I listened to the two of them banter about Penny’s new job at one of the neighborhood elementary schools.
After dinner, I went to do the dishes, but Penny absolutely refused and sent me upstairs to rest. I obliged and went to bed. The moment my head hit the pillow a grin broke across my face. I could recognize that scent anywhere, any time—rosewater and lavender. Cat must have lain in my bed while I was gone. Need surged through me, my fingers itching to call her and tell her I was home, that I’d see her in less than twenty-four hours.
But I didn’t. Selfishly, I wanted to see her face when she realized I was home, so I just buried my face in my pillow and inhaled Cat’s scent while listening to the silence in my room. The calm, muffled voices of my dad and Penny traveled upstairs. Last night, for the first time in my life, I felt at peace in this house, hopeful that this was what it would feel like from now on. Safe.
***
I woke up a couple of hours later, not to a nightmare but to Steve standing in the doorway to our shared bathroom, staring at me.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked him, my voice thick with sleep.
He laughed and started toward my bed. “Making sure it’s really you, asshole.” I sat up and we hugged. “Dad just said, ‘Go upstairs, I have a surprise for you,’ and I was looking around my room trying to figure out what he was talking about and then I spotted your ass sleeping like Cinderella,” he chuckled.
“Sleeping Beauty, man. Get your fairy tales straight.”
“Whatever. God, it’s so good to have you home. Does Cat know?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t even know I was coming home until Dad told me on Wednesday, and she’s been gone all week.” I considered him for a moment. “So where are you coming from?”
“Murphy’s. I was hanging out with Zack and Shane.”
I grinned at him. “Must be nice. Fuck, I can’t wait to see everyone.”
“Yeah, Shane is going to shit himself when he sees you,” Steve laughed.
“So, how have you been? Are you doing alright with the, you know, your breakup?”
Steve and I have known Vada and Zack pretty much all our lives; we grew up together, and almost two years ago Steve and Vada’s relationship turned into something a lot more than just friendship. I know Steve really loved her. Probably still does.
“I’m alright,” he said, looking to the ground. “I mean, it’s hard; I can’t just shut my feelings for Vada off overnight, but I know it’s for the best. My head hasn’t been in the right place; it’s been messing with our relationship. And honestly, if I had been in Boston we probably would’ve broken up months ago.”
I nodded at him, feelings of guilt bubbling up inside me. “I’m sorry, Stevie. I know you’ve had a lot of deal with. I wish it never happened,” I said, and by “it” I obviously meant him finding me on the ground the day my mother almost ended me.
“You need to stop putting all that weight on your shoulders,” he said. “You didn’t do anything. It happened to you. You’re not responsible for what happened between Vada and me, just like you’re not responsible for…” He didn’t say it out loud, but I knew what he meant.
“I’m working on it,” I said and sighed. “I have a lot of unlearning to do. Conditioning’s a bitch.”
“Yeah.” Steve sighed, too, and we stayed silent for a while. “Are you ready for the trial?” he finally asked.
My stomach was immediately in knots. “No. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready. Honestly, I’m scared shitless, but I guess I don’t have a choice.”
He nodded again. “I guess not. Have you talked to the D.A. yet?”
“A couple of times while I was in Montana, but I guess he’ll want to prep me before…”
“Yeah, probably,” Steve said, and looked at me. “Are you doing okay?”
“Sometimes,” I said. “It comes in waves. I have good moments, but they slip through my fingers; I have a hard time holding on to them.”
“It’ll take time. Just know I’m always here for you, and so is Dad, and Shane, and… Cat.”
My lips tugged into a smile, the knots in my stomach replaced by anticipation. “I can’t wait to see her.”
“She’s going to freak,” Steve chuckled.
“I’m going to freak,” I said, and yawned.
“Alright, get some sleep little brother,” he said and went to his own room. He left both our bathroom doors wide open like he used to when we were little and we’d talk until one of us finally passed out.
***
I didn’t wake up until ten today, and even then I took my time getting out of bed, instead reading through the text messages Cat sent me while I was in Montana. When I finally got my phone back Thursday morning and turned it on, I truly just intended to spend a few minutes… maybe hours… staring at pictures of Cat. But once it powered up, my phone kept buzzing and buzzing with text message after text message from Cat.
I started reading through the countless messages she sent me, beginning on the day I left for Montana. Some days she sent only one message, while on others she sent ten or more. They ranged from short and sweet one-liners to thoughts so intimate it felt like I was reading her diary. Regardless of what she said, I could almost hear her voice while reading her texts and my entire body yearned for her more powerfully than it had before. I didn’t get through all her messages that day, and I didn’t get a chance to read them on Friday while traveling back to New York, but this morning I lingered and got through the rest of them.
Cat sent her most recent message last night after I had already fallen asleep.
Cat:
Finally heading back home tomorrow. I wish you were coming home, too. I miss you more every day. PS: I’m wearing your sweater… again. I love you.