Chapter Forty-Eight Lorenzo
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Lorenzo
L ily and I spend the rest of our Saturday taking Angel around the assisted-living facility. There is one nurse working who is particularly interested in her, so we stay a little longer so Angel can spend time with her after her shift.
By the time we leave, I’m exhausted, and Lily appears to be feeling the same given the way her eyes droop.
“I’ll take you home.” I shuffle her toward my car.
She scans the lot. “Wait. Where’s my car?”
“Manny took it to my house.”
“What? Why?”
“I thought I should keep your prized possession safe since there appears to be someone in your neighborhood who’s tampering with spark plugs.”
Her entire face turns red.
“How did you learn to remove those anyway?” I ask after sitting on the question all afternoon, ever since Manny passed by earlier to grab Lily’s car keys so he could drop it off at my house.
She can have it back in two months—and not a single day before then.
If Manny thought my request was unusual, he didn’t show it, most likely because I played it all off like some prank.
Lily kicks up some dirt with the toe of her shoe. “YouTube.”
“I’m impressed.”
She glances up at me. “The look on your face was worth it.”
“Now I feel less bad about this…” I open the Messages app on my phone and show her my text thread with Manny.
MANNY
Tell me again why you want me to remove Lily’s engine?
ME
It’s part of the prank.
MANNY
And the boot on the wheel?
ME
Added safety precaution.
MANNY
Would you like me to remove the steering wheel while I’m here?
ME
Now you’re thinking outside the box.
MANNY
I was kidding.
ME
I’m not. Also, is it possible to take out the driver’s seat? Just in case?
Lily shoves me hard. “What are you doing?”
“Keeping you safe.”
“From what? The right to make my own choices?”
I laugh, which spurs her on.
“None of this is funny.” Her voice shakes as her hands curl into fists by her side.
“I’m sorry.” I sober up. “If you want the car, I’ll give it back.”
“In the same condition you stole it in?”
I stop grinding my teeth together long enough to answer her. “No.”
“You’re…”
“Yes?”
“The most infuriating man I’ve ever met.”
“We both know that’s not true.” Not while Richard is alive, at least.
She walks over to my car with a groan and waits by the passenger side. I don’t unlock it until I can grab the handle and open the door for her.
She doesn’t climb in.
“You’re not making this process any easier for me,” she says softly.
“I can’t stop caring about you, Lily.”
Her brows furrow. “If the last forty-eight hours are a sample of what that looks like, I’m better off without it.”
“These last two days have been hell for me too.”
“Good.”
Who knew it was possible to pack so much sass into one single word?
Wanting to prolong our longest conversation since the night of the debate, I play with one of her face-framing braids and say, “I scheduled a session with Doctor Martin.”
The spark of anger in her eyes dies, along with whatever she was about to say when her lips part.
“I have no idea if it’ll work out, but I’ll try anything at this point,” I add when she doesn’t speak.
“That’s…great. I’m happy for you.”
I’m surprised by her comment. “Really?”
“Yeah. I still want the best for you.” Her shoulders curl in on themselves.
“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”
“Because I’m the one who always gets hurt.”
“Which is why I’m getting help.” My arms become a cage, trapping her between my body and the car.
It won’t be an easy process, but it could be a rewarding one, so long as I learn to work through my trauma and manage my anxiety, obsessions, and compulsions.
I need to.
I’m tired of running, both from my past and my future. It’s a pattern that needs to end because, as much as it absolutely pains me to admit it, Trevor called me out on my biggest issue during the debate.
I don’t fight when things get too hard.
I quit .
And honestly I’m sick of running. Sick of hiding. Sick of pretending that life will get better without me putting in the hard work to make it possible.
Trevor already stole my parents and my childhood from me, so am I going to allow him to take Lily and our future away too?
No. Not anymore.
I’m going to fight for her and us, one therapy session at a time, because Lily is worth it, but more importantly, so am I .
I considered canceling a few hours before my therapy session, but Doctor Martin has a zero-tolerance policy for no-shows within twenty-four hours, so I have no choice but to attend.
Doctor Martin, a middle-aged woman with a Jamaican accent and braids adorned with golden cuffs, spends the next hour getting to know me and the constant grating voice in my head rather than making headway.
Discussing my OCD diagnosis isn’t anything new. I’ve been to therapy before, but since I didn’t trust the psychologist who reported to my uncle, I always held back. I was cautious with my responses, never quite letting anyone peek behind the curtain of my mind.
Today is different because I force myself to answer honestly and openly, not wanting my own stubbornness to prevent me from making headway.
I respond to all of Doctor Martin’s questions like a willing patient looking for answers to my life’s biggest problems, and I’m rewarded with non-judgmental commentary in return.
I didn’t have high hopes when I began the session, but when the psychologist doesn’t even blink twice at me describing the tracking bracelet I bought Lily, she earns some of my respect.
“Are you able to share more about other compulsive tendencies you have?”
I go through the basics, including my concerns with safety, food prep, and contamination, before I dive into my Lily-based worries.
“Sounds like a lot to manage.” She scribbles something on her notepad.
“That’s why I’m here.”
“What made you want to take this step after…” She scans her notes. “Over twenty years feeling this way?”
“I need to figure out a way to manage my anxiety and process my past, both for myself and my girlfriend.”
Her eyes soften behind her glasses. “Lily, right?”
“Yes, but right now our relationship is a bit…complicated.”
“In what way?”
I explain my fake engagement because why not? Doctor Martin is paid to keep everything confidential, so the worst that can happen is her openly judging me for my choices.
“Surprisingly, you’re not the first client to share a story like this.”
I chuckle. “You seem to have quite the roster.”
She nods. “But each one is different, so tell me a bit more about your relationship with Lily.”
“She’s…amazing. But I’m sure a lot of people tell you that about their…”
“Significant other?”
“Yes.” Although I was about to say fiancée , because in my mind, I’m fully committed to Lily, regardless if she feels similarly.
I continue, “She is the one who encouraged me to go to therapy.”
“Seems like you trust her opinion.”
“I trust her with everything.” I sigh. “Although I can’t say she feels the same about me right now.”
“How so?”
“I hurt her.”
“What happened?” She jots more notes down on her tablet.
“How much time do you have?”
She checks her watch. “I’m all yours for another twenty minutes.”
I give Doctor Martin a quick rundown of my life, from my parents being accidentally killed to me running for mayor against the man who took their lives. I explain how Lily still doesn’t know because I have never figured out the best way to tell her, and now it might be too late.
“What do you mean by it being too late ?” she asks.
“She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Because you plan on moving away?”
I hesitate before saying, “Yes. Probably.” I run a shaky hand through my hair. “I’m still deciding, but it’s looking that way.”
“And if you do leave, she won’t move with you?”
I force a laugh. “No, and I wouldn’t want her to. Lake Wisteria is everything to her.”
“And what does Lake Wisteria mean to you?”
I pause, because shit. It feels like a far more nuanced question than I originally thought, so I hit her with a simple “I don’t know.”
I’m tired of that being my go-to response as of late. I used to be confident, but now I feel…
Lost .
Doctor Martin jots some more notes down. “Why don’t you think about it over the week and we pick back up with it next time?”
“Actually…could we meet twice a week? I need to work through my shit and fast .”
Her lips curl at the corners as she checks her calendar. “How does Friday at ten a.m. sound?”
I pull out my phone and add the session to mine. “I’ll see you then.”
I can’t believe what I’m seeing. The paper a campaign volunteer handed me must be a joke because how can the latest polls look like this ?
I don’t want to believe it, but right there on the front page of today’s edition of the Wisteria Weekly newspaper is a picture of Trevor and me from the debate, along with a short tagline announcing how there was no real winner.
I couldn’t be happier about the polls included at the bottom of the front page because they’re the best numbers I’ve seen yet.
Sure, I may not be in the lead, but we are tied , which is all the encouragement my team needs to keep pushing. We have to get out there and knock on more doors, visit town halls and attend PTA meetings.
I need to increase my overall appearances and talk to more people, giving myself as many opportunities as possible to refute Trevor’s points from the debate.
“Holy shit.” I drop the paper and shut my eyes.
This is really happening.
I want to share the news with Lily, so I call her without thinking twice about it.
“Is everything okay?” she asks with zero inflection.
I miss the way she used to answer my calls. She never shielded her emotions like this, and I took that generosity for granted.
“Lorenzo?” There’s that same flat tone again, reminding me once more how much I hurt her.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m tied in the polls.”
She is so quiet I can hear a set of pruning shears snapping stems in the background.
“This is better than any of us could’ve hoped,” I add when she says nothing.
“Yeah.”
“We’re still in this.”
She’s too quiet, and it’s all my fault.
“Lily?”
“Yeah.”
“Talk to me.”
“I have nothing to say except that I’m happy for you.”
“I’m happy for us .”
An awkward silence follows.
“Gotta go. A customer walked into the shop.” Lily hangs up without waiting for me to reply.
It’s for the best because I’m not sure what I would’ve said anyway.
I could’ve called her out for lying about a customer since the signature Rose & Thorn bell didn’t ring in the background, but I doubt that would’ve gone over well.
Or maybe I would’ve begged for her to put aside all the hurt I caused and give me five minutes.
To what? Pretend like you weren’t threatening to leave if you lost?
I wish I could take back all the doubt I placed in Lily’s mind. All the hurt .
But there is no time machine that can fix my problems.
Only hard work and therapy, which is a process in itself.
My high from the news comes crashing down around me, and I’m left with an uneasy feeling in my gut for the rest of the day. I should be excited by my new numbers, but I can’t shake the sense of dread taking root inside me.
You can fix this , I tell myself.
But what if you can’t? the anxious voice replies, always threatening what little hope I have.
If I can’t fix us, it won’t be for a lack of trying on my part. I’ll give her my all, and if that still isn’t good enough, then I’ll find a way to be more of whatever she needs.
Because Lily Munoz is mine, and I’ll stop at nothing until I become hers .