Chapter 2
ZOYA CASELLI
Recommendation: Listen to Take Me As I Am by Mary J. Blige
I typed away on my computer, looking up as the sun rose over the park that Landon loved to remind me was stolen from us.
My glasses sat on the bridge of my nose; my hair was pulled up into a sloppy bun as I took a break from looking over case files.
Taking in the warm orange, red, and green tones swirled together within the morning sky was breathtaking.
It was beautiful, and my first time witnessing it in all of its glory.
Usually, I kept the shades down in my office and worked with the small desk lamp that Menace had gotten me when I graduated from law school. It was gold, heavy, and he had it engraved with:
Big pressure lawyer. Proud of you. - Maverick
I remember the day it was delivered to me. I had to sign and show ID just to retrieve the box. When I opened it, I rolled my eyes and kept the box in the foyer for months.
It was bitchy of me.
Last night, when I shuffled into the office because I couldn’t sleep, I kept the shades up and looked out at the pitch-black abyss with lights surrounding the park that appeared to be much smaller the higher you were.
I felt safe in this condo, and even safer because I was a few floors down from Landon’s penthouse. When I moved into my house, I didn’t feel safe living there alone. This building was like the white house, and you weren’t getting in here unless you were supposed to.
“It’s not time to go for our walk… don’t look at me like that,” Bando lifted his head from his fancy dog bed, as if it was time for him to strut his stuff. He’d just make us circle the same spots until he eventually decided it was time to humble me and make me pick his shit up.
It was still an adjustment getting used to having to take care of someone other than myself. Since going away to college, it had always been just me.
Me and Bando were still getting to know one another; however, he was very protective of me. When I used the bathroom, he stood outside and took guard. Whenever I went into the office in the middle of the night, he heaved a sigh, as if I was on his nerves, and followed behind me.
Whenever we were outside of our bubble, I could tell when someone was close to me because he made sure to growl, making their presence known.
It surprised me how close he was to me, and we were still getting to know one another.
Since our dog died when we were younger, I just knew I would never get another dog.
I could lie and say it was because I wasn’t an animal person, but it was because the pain of losing a pet was so great that I never wanted to go through it again.
Then again, Bando was like a little furry man. He was love in the purest form for me. I reached out to Jordan to get his story, and it broke my heart. His family, the only people he had ever known since a puppy, packed up and moved away.
They left him behind in the apartment because their new place didn’t allow pets. He had been there for weeks before the landlord discovered him. He refused to leave one particular room, because he thought they were coming back for him.
When I stared down into his brown eyes, I could relate.
When my parents died, I thought they were coming back.
Even as I held my brother’s hand as we watched them being lowered into the ground, I still believed they would come back.
My mind knew they would not, but my heart never stopped longing for their return.
Anytime someone would visit, I had this excitement like my mother would pop out with her beautiful smile and warm hugs.
Like Bando, us Caselli kids were abandoned by our family. Left to fend for ourselves, trying to accept love while having trust issues. It was the reason that I adopted Bando on a whim.
He needed me.
I needed him.
We were both two lonely souls that needed each other. No matter how hard things got, I would never give up on him.
He was family.
Pulling the draw from my desk, I pulled out my prescription of Lexytra and shook out two pills into my hands. My doctor had prescribed me antidepressants because a bitch was depressed.
I was diagnosed with depression in college and had kept it to myself all these years.
We weren’t the type of siblings that got together and told our business.
We kept everything close to ourselves and went on about life.
Me and Kora got together for Pilates and dinners; however, we talked about surface level things.
Anytime that things became too deep, we would pause, reset, and switch the subject. Being emotional wasn’t something that we Caselli’s were in touch with. Menace wasn’t the type to coddle you and tell you everything would be better.
He was the type to look at you like an alien if you cried or had any emotions. I learned early on that you couldn’t have emotions. They made you weaker, and you weren’t as quick on your feet.
So, telling them that I had been diagnosed with depression didn’t feel like something that should be the talk of one of our limited outings together.
High functioning depression was a bitch.
On the outside, everyone saw this put together, confident, powerhouse of a woman. Someone that would enter any courtroom with her claws extended and ready. I was the person who called and checked in on everyone and was down to show up with takeout and drinks when any of my girls needed me.
Meanwhile, on the inside, I was low.
So low.
Always feeling completely low, exhausted, and that was even when I just woke up. You ever woke up from a full nine hours and you were still completely tired, overwhelmed, and drained?
Then, some nights, I couldn’t keep my eyes closed. I tossed and turned in bed with my thoughts loud and in charge. I recounted everything I did for the day, and what needed to be done the next day. When I should have been asleep, I was too busy working in my head to the point I just couldn’t.
My mind was never quiet.
Despite everyone being proud of me, I was so hard on myself. Never doing enough, always striving for more, and hardly ever celebrating my accomplishments. I remember when I passed the bar, I should have been excited.
Elated.
I remember Capri calling me to celebrate and I made up an excuse. Told her that I was going out with my family, which was a lie. Menace was overseas, Landon was wherever he was, and Kora was busy.
Even if they weren’t busy, I didn’t want to celebrate. I stayed in my condo on the couch in the dark, and watched the city move from the couch. I wondered what my parents would have said. What would their reaction be? Would they have forced us all out to dinner?
It was easy for people to assume because I lost my parents young that I would forget, or I would get over it.
Everyday living without the two people you loved the most was torture.
Every celebration, every low you experienced, and every piece of your life was reduced to wondering if they were proud of you.
Hugs became further and further in the rearview, and you learned to adapt without them. Convinced yourself that you didn’t really love hugs anyway, knowing that somewhere, long ago, you loved affection.
I missed melting in my father’s arms when he came home after a business trip. Our home feeling and smelling like love because my mother was there, even when he was away. It was hard staring at Menace and Don at times, because they reminded me of our father.
Depression had turned me into a liar.
Always smiling and telling everyone I was fine when I was the complete opposite. I wasn’t fine, and it had been a long time since I had been. I entered relationships hoping they would make me feel again.
Craving that love that I had been desperately searching for in every dead-end relationship. I knew half the men I dated were no good, which is why I chose them. I believed that I was no good, so why would I go for the good guy? Deep down, I didn’t feel like I deserved the perfect man.
Or even a halfway decent one.
Sigel was something to do, someone to get under my brother’s skin. He was so particular about who he thought me or Kora should be with. He never had a problem with who Kora dated, and that was because she dated squares. White men that came from trust funds and rich families.
Families that went to the Hamptons for the summer and had a huge house on the water. Kora played it safe because like me, she couldn’t feel either. At least I was honest with myself, while she continued to play into these men being her type.
That was the reason the relationships never lasted long, and they only became a distant memory that sat on her bookshelves. Kora was collecting white men in picture frames like Thanos was collecting infinity stones.
Gerald: Good morning, Baby Cakes. Hope you slept good.
I smiled as I looked at the text message that came across my desktop from Gerald. Every morning, he sent a text message to check in on me, and they were always on time. On the rare occasion that I could actually sleep, and decided to sleep in, his messages were always waiting for me when I woke up.
“Why would you say that?” I yelled behind Gerald as he continued walking toward the beach. He paused, turning around, slowing down so I could catch up with him.
I wasn’t running to his ass, although my legs were trying to betray me by doing the opposite of what I wanted. Gerald stood there, towering over me as he backed me up against the wall while continuing to stare down into my eyes.
His stare was so intense and loving at the same time. It made me feel something that I feared, so I looked away. He pulled my face toward his direction, licking his lips as he stared down into my eyes.
My body reacted.
“I need you to know that when I take that man’s breath from him, it’s not because of you. Thun had that shit coming to him over some personal shit.”
Folding my arms, I met his gaze. “Can you tell me what happened?”