If You Stayed

6 Kierra

6

Kierra

Sometimes I wondered if I hated marriage as a whole, or if I’d only hated the marriage I was in.

My husband didn’t see me, even when I was standing right in front of him, begging for his attention. I didn’t beg much anymore, of course. He seemed so disconnected that it felt pointless. But we always had weekend dinners together at home. Lena didn’t cook over the weekends, so I loved to take on the task. Ava always requested her favorite meals for the weekends, and I’d spend hours cooking up a storm to make everything come together.

Henry often mentioned how he preferred Lena’s cooking over mine, but Ava thought I was the greatest chef in the world. I doubted Ava truly believed that, but she acted like she did.

“This is amazing, Mom,” she swore that Saturday evening as she shoved a forkful of meat loaf into her mouth. “The best you’ve ever made.”

Smiling, I thanked her for the compliment—the same compliment she gave me each time I made anything for her.

I wondered what made that girl so sweet. She sure didn’t take after her father in that respect.

I also wondered when my heart would stop tugging from bliss whenever she called me Mom. When I first met Henry and Ava, she was a five-year-old. The two were at dinner in an old diner where I used to work, and I couldn’t take my eyes off sweet Ava. Everything about her seemed so adorably gentle.

And then she spilled her chocolate milk all over the table—and into Henry’s lap.

“Whoa, buddy!” Henry remarked, leaping up and shaking off his pants.

With haste, I hurried over with rags to help clean up the mess. I began wiping down the table as Henry muttered an apology for the spill.

“Yeah, sowwy,” Ava said, showcasing her two missing front teeth. She then frowned and picked up the cup that she’d knocked over.

“No worries. Spills happen in life. It’s just a matter of how fast we can clean them up,” I said before turning toward Henry. I held a clean rag out toward him.

He smiled, and it felt so safe and genuine. “Thank you…um—”

“Kierra,” I said.

He nodded as he began to wipe down his pants. “Thank you, Kierra.”

“I’m Ava!” the little girl remarked loudly. “And my dad doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

I laughed as Henry shot her a stern look. “Ava!”

“What?” She shrugged. “You told me to say that when she came back ova.”

I placed a hand against my hip. “So, was the spilling of the chocolate milk all part of the plan? And she was playing your wingwoman?”

Henry laughed. “No, but I did mention that you were beautiful.”

“Give her your numba, Dad,” Ava said. What a good wingwoman she’d been.

For the next few years, she’d called me Kierra until the day Henry and I got married. As we ate dinner at the reception, Ava leaned over and asked if she could call me Mom now that we’d said “I do.”

I cried as I pulled her into my arms.

That was officially the best day of my life.

And ever since, every time she said, “Mom,” I melted a little more into the promise of being her forever.

I often wondered if I would’ve stayed so long if it weren’t for Ava. I wondered if I would’ve said yes to Henry when he proposed. I wondered if I would’ve felt pulled toward Henry at all. I wondered if I would’ve left when he first raised his voice at me. I wondered if I would’ve packed my bags when he cussed me out and grabbed my wrist too tightly. Heck, I wondered if I would’ve left after the first date when I didn’t feel butterflies. But none of those wonders mattered because I didn’t only fall in love with Henry; I fell in love with his daughter. I knew if I let go of Henry, I’d have to let go of Ava, too. That was too much of a risk for me.

Besides, if Henry’s cruelty was directed at me and not Ava, I would be fine with his harsh words and critiques. I’d rather it be me than my daughter any day. I could handle Henry’s bad mood and cutting remarks if that meant Ava didn’t have to.

And besides, even though Henry wasn’t good to me, he did love his daughter, and Ava loved her father, too. She looked up to Henry as if he were the greatest man in the world. I never wanted that to change for her.

“It’s a little dry,” Henry mentioned as he cut into his slice of meat loaf.

I passed him the gravy.

He thanked me and poured more than enough over his slice.

After dinner, I hung out with Ava as Henry went off to work in his office. We lay in bed looking over a few of the architecture books she’d received as a gift for her birthday. Ava was in love with the world of architecture and was certain she’d be the greatest architect the world had ever seen. She would’ve been thrilled to meet Gabriel. I loved escaping into her visions and dreams of her future. I loved how much she shared with me, too. For a while, I worried about her becoming a teenager and blocking me out, but if anything, we were closer than ever. She even opened up about how she’d been bullied before for her weight. I offered to help her and set her up with a therapist. Yet knowing I was a safe place for her meant more than anything to me. I’d always be in her corner.

After she headed to bed, I went to my room to get ready to sleep. I found Henry in bed already, with a dozen books scattered around. If my husband was going to do just one thing, that would be researching technology to help with his business. Half the time, his books took up more space in our bed than I did.

I washed my face and slipped into my pajamas before crawling into my side of the bed. We shared a California king. Sometimes when I was in that bed, I felt so far away from him, but we weren’t a cuddly couple. I’d be shocked if our feet even touched beneath the comforter.

I clicked off my nightstand lamp and fluffed my pillow a little before melting into a comfortable sleeping position.

“I’ll have the light off soon,” Henry said as he flipped a page in his book. “Maybe another hour.”

“That’s fine.” I turned to face him. My heart was scattered in a few places that evening. A part of it went to bed with Ava, another part was left thinking about Gabriel, and the rest remained hovering over Henry’s and my room. “Henry?”

“Hmm?”

“Are we happy?”

He glanced my way and lowered his reading glasses for a moment before turning back to his novel. “Let’s not do this tonight, Kierra.”

“What does that mean?”

“Ask these stupid questions. Of course we’re happy. We have everything we could ever need.”

“Like?”

“ Money ,” he said. “Success, and Ava. I have everything I need.”

“Is there anything I could do to make you happier?”

He leaned over and smiled before kissing my head. “You could go to sleep and stop overthinking.”

“Okay.” I shifted slightly before turning away from him. “Good night.”

“Night.”

I fell asleep for a little while before I was awakened by Henry shaking my arm. “Hey, Kierra. Wake up.”

I grumbled a little and rubbed my eyes. “Yeah?”

“I was thinking about your question. About how you could make me happier.”

I turned, somewhat surprised. “You woke me up to tell me that?”

“Yeah. I figured if I didn’t, I’d forget.”

“Okay.” I yawned. “What can I do?”

“Drink differently.”

I sat up. “What?”

“During the dinner parties. You always wear your red lipstick, then you sip out of your glass all around the rim, getting lipstick all over. It would make me happy if you drank from the same spot. It’s embarrassing having others see how you drink.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Yeah, okay, Henry.” His intense stare gave me a bit of a shock. I sat up straighter. “You’re serious.”

“I am. It’s ridiculous. No grown woman should leave three different lipstick stains on one glass.”

Oh.

Wow.

“I’ll try to do better,” I muttered as I lay back down.

“Don’t try, just do. You’re not weak. You can avoid getting lipstick everywhere. Even Ava does better than you with that,” he said before shutting off his lamp. “Night.”

***

When Monday came, I decided to skip my morning muffin and head straight into the office. I wasn’t ready to face having a seemingly innocent run-in with Gabriel. Even though such a big part of me craved crashing into him again. Instead, I needed input on my current situation from those whose opinions I’d valued the most.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be for me to reengage with a person from my past who happened to be my best friend and first love? Who has no recollection of me at all because he lost his memory?” I blurted out to Joseph as he stood in the office relaxation room, brewing a cup of coffee.

He turned to face me and arched an eyebrow. “Happy Monday to you, too.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Happy Monday. How was your trip? I hope it was amazing and just out of curiosity…” I walked over to the countertop where the coffee machine was, hopped on top of it, and kicked my feet back and forth. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be for me to reengage with a person from my past who completely lost his memory of me, even though he was the biggest part of my life until I was almost twenty years old? And then he randomly showed up to my husband’s dinner party as the architect building our new house? And he felt like we knew each other, but he didn’t remember , even though a big part of me wishes he remembered, but I don’t want him to remember everything because everything wasn’t good , but it also wasn’t all bad .”

Joseph snickered, added too much sweetener to his coffee, and lifted his mug. “This sounds like a telenovela. Have you been watching Jane the Virgin again?”

“I wish this were a show. A show wouldn’t leave my stomach in knots.”

He arched an eyebrow. “This really happened?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Wow,” he breathed out. “I feel as if you’ve been spiraling over this for a while now.”

“A little over fiftysome hours.”

“And where are you landing on your decision to engage?”

I bit my bottom lip. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking the older, wiser man in the coffee room.”

Joseph laughed. “Age has nothing to do with wisdom.”

“Yes, but you seem to be full of both.”

He narrowed his eyes, glanced at his watch, and then said, “I have thirty minutes before my first client. What happened?”

I told him the story. The whole story about Gabriel and me and our past together. I told him about the good days and the worst nights. He listened to me intently, not breaking his stare. His attention to every word always made me feel safe around him. I was certain that was how all his clients felt, too.

“I see.” He brushed his palm against his chin. “Now I ask you, are you looking for a friendship response or a therapist response?”

“Friendship,” I said. “I know what you charge per hour, and you’re out of my budget,” I half-joked.

“Well, as a friend, I say this… My advice doesn’t matter.”

My eyebrows shot up. “What? Why not?”

“Because it’s not my life, and I haven’t lived through the string of struggles and joys attached to your situation. Therefore, my input would be from a place that lacks the emotional depth and understanding that your heart needs to make this decision. You could ask a million people what their advice would be, and their words wouldn’t matter because it’s your situation, not theirs.”

I sighed. “That is therapist advice. Good advice, but therapist.”

He shrugged. “My friendship and therapist advice intertwine at times.”

I scrunched my nose and grumbled before slapping my hand against my face. “Okay, but if you were just to humor me with your thoughts on what you would do in the fictional world where you were walking in my shoes?”

“First, I have a few questions.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you miss your friendship with him?”

“It was ages ago.”

“Time doesn’t determine whether a friendship can be missed.”

I nodded. “I do miss the friendship.”

“And if you didn’t connect with him, would you regret it?”

“I think so, yes. For the rest of my life.”

“Then, if I were in your shoes…” He paused and sipped his coffee. “I’d be saying hello again to my old best friend.”

A wave of chills raced over me as the words left his mouth, because that was exactly what I thought, too. I thought if I didn’t take the chance to connect with Gabriel and see if he really didn’t recall everything that went down between us, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. Because if I had the chance to see him, to see the old version of him that I’d missed for so long, I’d take it.

“Thanks, Joseph,” I said, hopping off the countertop.

“Mm-hmm, but you know what I’d also do?” he asked.

“What’s that?”

“I’d tell my husband all about the situation and make sure you both were on the same page.”

I grumbled. “Yeah. I figured you’d say that.”

Good advice—I just wasn’t certain I was ready to talk to Henry about it.

During my lunch break, just to make sure I had all sides covered, I called my best friend, Rosie, to update her on the situation. Getting her point of view would be very helpful, since she’d known both Gabriel and me since high school. Plus, Rosie seemed to live in a state of delusion that I sometimes needed instead of Joseph’s realistic mind.

Rosie and I met at a restaurant between both of our jobs. Unlike Joseph’s, Rosie’s reaction was a bit more animated.

“Oh my gosh, you’re kidding me!” she gasped as I sat across from her in our booth. She slammed her hands down on the wooden table and her blue eyes all but bugged out of her head. Her strawberry-blond hair danced across her shoulder blades as she remained in complete and utter shock.

She’d changed her hair since I’d last seen her. Which was only last Tuesday. We’d been meeting up each week for the past two months to plan her upcoming wedding to her fiancé, Wesley—the one individual who made my fiercely independent friend who didn’t believe in relationships believe in love and marriage.

The older Rosie grew, the more she looked like her mother, a very beautiful Asian woman who had straight black hair. Ever since Rosie had been a kid, she’d liked to dye her hair to look less like her parents. It drove them wild.

“Like, your Gabriel?” she questioned.

“He’s not exactly mine, but yes. Him.”

“Oh my goodness.” She sat back in the booth, flabbergasted. “And he still doesn’t have his memories?”

“Nope.”

“So…he doesn’t recall you two falling in love?”

“Nope.”

“He doesn’t recall you at all ?”

“Not at all.”

“But…everything you shared together…” Her hands fell to her chest, over her heart. “You were everything to him, Kierra. You and Elijah.”

Just hearing Elijah’s name out loud made my eyes fill with tears.

I glanced down at the tattoo sitting on my wrist. A trail of penguin, toad, and bear footprints trailing up my arm. A daily reminder of my past with Gabriel and little Elijah. A daily reminder of what used to be, and what would never return again.

I blinked and my mind took me back there. I blinked and I could feel the chill of that cold December night.

“Don’t worry, boys,” I shouted. “I’ll drive.”

“Kierra…” Rosie reached across the table and placed a hand against my forearm, bringing me back to reality. “This is a lot.” She was teary-eyed as she held my arm. If anyone knew how deep the cuts of the accident were, it was Rosie. She was the one who was there for me throughout that whole period. She was the one who held me as I wailed into the night. She was the one who told me everything would be okay, even when I knew for a fact that that would never be true again.

“It is a lot. And I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do. Give me any kind of advice.”

“I don’t even know. This sounds like a twisted Black Mirror episode.”

“Joseph said Jane the Virgin .”

“That’s a very Joseph choice.”

I sighed and picked up my water for a sip. My mouth felt dry as I sat heavily in my emotions. “It’s so messy.”

“You have to keep seeing him,” she stated. “No question about it. Not only is he building your home, but he’s Gabriel.”

“I know.” He was Gabriel. My once-upon-a-time love story. “Joseph said I should tell Henry all about Gabriel.”

Rosie worked her hardest not to roll her eyes. It was no secret that Henry and Rosie didn’t get along. She didn’t complain much about him anymore now that years have passed, but she didn’t go out of her way to pretend she could stand him.

“Joseph would be one to tell you to be a responsible wife. Stupid Joseph.” She huffed. “Being an adult sucks.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So, when do I get to see him?”

“What?”

“Gabriel. Sure, he was your everything, but he was my friend, too. Plus, I’d kill to see how you act with him around.”

I laughed. “That’s not happening.”

“What? Come on! You know I thrive off uncomfortable situations. I’d be the comic relief in your tragedy of errors.”

“It’s a strong negative.”

“Just host another dinner party. I love Henry’s dinner parties.”

“You hate Henry’s dinner parties.”

“It’s true.” She nodded. “Too highbrow for me and not enough mozzarella sticks. But I would one hundred percent show up if it meant I’d get to see you act super awkward and clumsy around Gabriel Sinclair.”

“What makes you think I’d be super awkward and clumsy around Gabriel?”

She shook her head and patted my hand. “Oh, sweet, sweet Kierra. Because I know you so well. I bet you spilled something when you saw him.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let’s change the subject.”

She pointed a stern finger my way. “You totally spilled something.”

“All over myself, yes.”

“I knew it.” She reached to my plate and stole a few of my fries. “It is kind of exciting, though, isn’t it?”

“What’s that?”

“You and Gabriel being reunited after all this time. And for the record, you don’t have to take Joseph’s advice. I hardly ever listen to my therapist. It’s more of an optional thing, really.”

I laughed. “I fear a lot of my clients feel the same way.”

***

When I returned to the office, I was thrown off as I walked into the lobby to find a person I was not expecting to see sitting in a chair. My head tilted sideways as I stared at the familiar stranger. That saying felt like the biggest oxymoron known to mankind. A familiar stranger. Someone you once upon a time knew yet who had shifted into nothing more than a sad memory.

“Amma,” I whispered, stunned by the sight of Gabriel’s mother sitting in front of me. The moment I spoke her name, she rose from the chair. She held her purse close to her chest and released a sigh as she stared my way.

“Hello, Kierra.”

I narrowed my eyes as my heartbeat began to rise. “What are you doing—”

“You had a run-in with my son over the weekend,” she said, her voice as stern as the last time we’d spoke. Well, truthfully, the last time we spoke, her sternness was bathed in heartbreak and despair. The heartbreak and despair that I’d caused. I was almost certain back then would’ve been the last time I’d ever see her, but for some strange reason my past was sprinting straight into my present day.

My mind was still reeling from seeing Gabriel over the weekend. Seeing Amma made my brain want to simply explode. Not only because our parting was so traumatic for the both of us, but also because seeing her standing there sent my mind straight back to that day. There were many things in life I tried to avoid, but at the top of the list were memories around Amma and the day of the accident.

“Yes,” I said, glancing around the lobby. “Would you like to speak in my office?”

“No, I don’t need much time. I just want to say one thing and one thing only.” She took a step toward me. “Stay away from him, Kierra.”

I shook my head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly what I said just now and years ago. I want you to stay away from my son.”

“Amma, I didn’t seek Gabriel out. I had no clue he was going to be the architect on the build.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. As if I’d believe that. It just so happened you had no clue who was working on your home building?”

“It’s exactly like that,” I said. “My husband planned it all. I was shocked to see Gabriel at my house this weekend. I can swear to you that I had nothing to do with it.”

She moved her hand to her earlobe and began to rub it, something she used to do whenever she was uncomfortable and uncertain of a situation. I knew this because I knew her. For a long while, Amma was like a second mother to me. She was in the list of my top five favorite humans back then. Unfortunately, favorite human lists could change over time, and people could be X-ed off said lists.

She X-ed me out years ago, and I knew I’d never make it back on that list.

Amma crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, my stance is the same. Stay away from him.”

“I…can’t do that. Especially since he’ll be at our property a lot of the time and I might have to help go over the plans. Listen, I get why this is awkward, especially since Gabriel clearly doesn’t have any memories of me, but I won’t do anything to hurt him.”

She huffed as if she didn’t believe me.

That hurt my heart more than she’d ever know. Gabriel was the one person, apart from Ava, that I would never want to hurt. If I could’ve suffered all the pain in the world to make sure he didn’t suffer any, I would’ve. Which was exactly why I walked away all those years ago—for his and his mother’s well-being. Amma swore to me that my staying would’ve made Gabriel’s life worse, and I believed her. So I did the hardest thing I’d ever had to do—said goodbye to my very best friend. To the other half of my heartbeats.

“Well, do your best not to bring up anything about your past together. It would be detrimental to his well-being. Especially when it comes to Elijah. You will not speak of him,” she ordered.

A knot formed in my stomach.

Elijah.

It was the first time I’d heard another, outside of Rosie, say his name in years. Even though I wrote it down in my journal every single day for years. There wasn’t a moment that Elijah didn’t cross my mind. Yet I felt sick hearing Amma bring him up in such a way.

“Why can’t I talk about him? What if he brings up Elijah in casual conversation?”

“Trust me, he won’t.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” I questioned, fearful of the answer she might give me—the answer I knew was true based on the amount of fear that flashed across her brown eyes. My chest tightened as tears burned at the back of my eyes. Oh my goodness… “You didn’t tell him,” I whispered, stunned.

“That’s none of your business.”

My breath was knocked out of my lungs.

She never told Gabriel about Elijah.

“Amma.” My mind was fighting the urge to go straight into therapist mode with the reveal of that information. “There’s no way you’ve gone this long without telling Gabriel about Elijah.” My mind struggled to wrap around that concept. Because how could she keep a whole brother hidden from Gabriel? There was no way that was possible.

She stood tall, her shoulders rolled back and a look of dismay plastered on her face. “You have no clue what it’s been like for me. Frank left me after Elijah passed away. He told me he couldn’t stick around with me and Gabriel when his son passed away. He couldn’t handle the grief and being with me. I was alone with Gabriel, trying my best. You don’t know what I’ve been through. What you’ve put me through, so how dare you judge any choice I’ve made between my son and myself. You don’t know what it’s been like. You weren’t there.”

“That’s because I was trying to respect your wishes. I would’ve been there if you’d allowed it. I would’ve been able to help you tell Gabriel. I would’ve helped you figure it all out.”

“ Help ?” She huffed with a slight shake of her head. “You would’ve helped me figure it all out? Really, Kierra?”

“Yes, really. I would’ve been there for you. I would’ve—”

“ You killed my son! ” she shouted, tears flooding her eyes. Her voice cracked as she pointed a finger toward me. “You caused all of this! You’re the reason that I had to figure anything out to begin with. You’re the reason I’ve been living this daily nightmare for all these years. So, how dare you say you would’ve helped. How dare you judge me for not telling Gabriel about, about…” She took a deep breath, stilling herself to keep from falling apart. If there was one thing Amma never did, it was fall apart. At least in public. She stilled herself long enough before shaking the tears from her eyes.

She took a deep breath and released it slowly before saying, “Just don’t say anything that relates to before the accident, okay?”

I didn’t know what to say, so I agreed with her request. “Okay. But Amma…you have to tell him about Elijah. You have to.” It wasn’t fair to keep such a big part of Gabriel’s history from him. It was one thing to blot out my storyline in his world, but Elijah? No. Elijah deserved to be remembered. Gabriel deserved to know every single detail about his beautiful little brother.

“Don’t tell me what I have to do. You get to live with your demons. Let me live with mine.”

“Amma—”

She grimaced as she glanced around the lobby, shifting the conversation. “A therapist, huh?”

Even though I was uncomfortable with the shift, I allowed it. Sometimes, certain topics were too hard to stay within for a long period of time. “Yes.”

“Do you have a PhD?”

“I do.”

“So you’re a doctor.”

“I am.”

Her scowl deepened as her smile lines turned into frown lines. “So you help people.”

“I try my best to, yes.” The tension in the space was thick, and I knew the conversation wasn’t going anywhere positive. Amma’s emotions were on high alert, and I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was ready to turn me into her punching bag.

She shook her head in disapproval. “Do you try to help people to make up for some of the karma you’ve built up over the years?” Amma hissed, her voice dripping with disdain and resentment. “Is it how you try to make peace with what you’ve done in your past? With how you killed my Elijah?”

Instead of instantly responding, I paused for a moment.

Mom taught me that whenever things were heated in the kitchen, it worked best to turn down the temperature on the stove instead of allowing things to boil over and make a bigger mess. I’d learned over time to speak slowly and with care. Just because Amma’s pot was boiling over didn’t mean that mine had to, too.

I could’ve matched her energy. I could’ve swung my words at her because she was coming after me and my character. I could’ve allowed her words to break me into a million pieces right then and there. I could’ve called her all types of names because she seemed to have no problem attacking me.

Instead, I stood still and said only a few words. Words that were loaded with truth and sorrow. “I’m so sorry you’re still hurting, Amma.”

Her eyes flashed with sadness, and that broke a little part of me.

Then I turned away and removed myself from the situation.

I walked into my office and shut the door behind me. My back fell against the closed door, and I took a few deep breaths with my eyes shut. My body began to shut down with the overwhelming feelings of the past few days. I always told my clients that if you didn’t deal with the internal issues, they would manifest on the outside. Be it your body getting sick, injured, or sliding down the back of a door and falling into an eruption of tears.

Amma’s words stung me so deeply because they held a heavy amount of truth within them. I did kill her son.

And I’d spend the rest of my life trying my hardest to forgive myself for a momentary mistake that cost Amma everything.

Because I killed her son .

When I closed my eyes, I was back there.

New Year’s Eve.

It was Elijah’s birthday, our little New Year’s Eve baby.

We celebrated at Amma and Frank’s house before Amma had to go into work for a night shift. Gabriel wanted us to stay in and stuff our faces with junk food and watch the ball drop on television, but I wanted to take a trip to Sky Hill—where snow tubing was taking place into the night. It was supposed to be a huge deal, with fireworks going off at midnight over the hillside.

“Or we can just keep eating birthday cake and play board games,” Gabriel offered for the hundredth time.

“Or we can go tubing!” I countered for the hundredth-and-first time.

“Snow tubing!” Elijah exclaimed.

There was a knock on my office door, forcing me back to reality.

“Kierra? Are you okay?” Joseph asked through the shut door. “That seemed like an intense exchange I overhead.”

“I’m fine,” I said, shaking myself out of my jolted memories. “Everything’s fine.”