48. Maisy
48
MAISY
“I’ve been expecting you.” I hold the screen door open as Javi, Trevor, Jake, and Tatum file into Pam’s kitchen.
My long cardigan stretches when I wrap it around me to hide the camisole and cotton shorts I slept in last night. Then I rejoin Pam at the table where I’ve been staring at a bowl of cold soup she made me an hour ago.
Tatum claims the seat beside me and draws me into a long hug, whispering reassurances in my ear that Jensen and I will both be okay and come out of this ordeal stronger. Jake and Trevor also gather around the table while Javi leans against the kitchen counter, his arms folded across the mandala pattern on his faded shirt.
Holding Javi’s tired gaze with my matching one, I say, “You blame me.”
“When you first returned to Walford, I did,” he admits.
“Join the club. I’ve kept Jensen’s secrets for years, so it’s easy to blame myself.”
“What secrets?” Jake asks. When I hesitate to respond, chewing my lip, he says, “Maisy, we can’t help him if we don’t know where to start.”
Cue the never-ending waterworks of late as tears well in my eyes. “It feels like I’m betraying his trust.”
“It’s the only way,” Javi says. “You have the answers. You can help us help him.”
Their exhausted faces snuff out what little sparks of hope I have for Jensen’s mental state improving with each passing day. Pam gives me a subtle nod in support. She stayed up with me last night, listening as I spilled every detail about what happened with Jensen. I told her our entire history while crying in her arms.
Pressing my fingers to my forehead to fend off the ache, I begin. “He, uh…he struggles with managing stress. I guess that’s the simplest explanation. When he can’t cope with the stress, he thinks he’s a failure. He blames himself. Punishes himself.”
I tell them everything I’ve witnessed and what Jensen told me directly. How his thoughts spin out of control, and he becomes self-deprecating and destructive. How he pulls his hair out when he’s on edge, though he’s better at controlling the urge now. I confess to helping him discover weightlifting as an outlet to redirect the negative energy when he’s overwhelmed. I confess all, and I’m a trembling mess of guilt when I finish. Reciting everything again reminds me I didn’t do enough to help him from the start.
Jake leans forward, elbows planted on his knees, as he soaks in my every word with rapt interest and deep concern. “That’s a lot for you to deal with alone, Maisy. You were a kid. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“He trusted me. Your dad knew how to calm him down, but Jensen sought me out more and more after I first helped him. Then your parents died, and he relied on me alone. I thought I could manage, but it was hard sometimes, like the episode during his senior year. He was completely unhinged, and that was the only time I didn’t think I could pull him back.”
I’ll never forget that day. Jensen called me, ranting and cursing at himself for being a “stupid fucking loser.” The rant seemed to go on for hours, and he wouldn’t listen to anything I said to calm him down. He pleaded for my help, but I had no way to get to his house. This was after his parents died, so he was home alone while Jake was with friends. Jensen kept threatening to come to me, but he was in no state to drive. With no other options, I began singing into the phone, which caught him by surprise. In the end, he was laughing because I’m a terrible singer.
“Do you remember what set him off?” Javi asks, finally taking a seat.
“He got detention for snapping at his English teacher after he failed an essay test. A triple whammy.”
“Triple?” Trevor pauses his ten-finger assault on the keyboard. When I squint in suspicion at his open laptop, he explains, “I’m taking notes.”
I count on my fingers. “Detention. Being disrespectful. Failing.”
“What’s the connection?” Tatum asks. She’s been gripping my hand this whole time, or I’ve been gripping hers.
“They could all lead to disappointment, and he doesn’t like to disappoint anyone. It’s too much for him to handle.”
“Because he’s a perfectionist and a people pleaser,” Jake surmises.
“I’m pretty sure we all know that’s putting things mildly,” I say. A longer look at Jake’s shadowed eyes and creased brow makes me realize how worried he is for his brother. He’s likely feeling a tremendous amount of guilt as well. “Are you mad at me, Jake?”
Sighing heavily, he says, “No. I’m mad at myself for not noticing anything was wrong. I know he gets worked up when things aren’t going right, but I didn’t know his issues ran this deep.”
“He hides it well.” Pam joins the conversation, her soft voice a balm to our somber mood as she looks us each in the eye. “None of you have done anything wrong, and you aren’t to blame for any of this. What matters is that you work together to support him and encourage him to get help.”
Everyone agrees with parts of her statement, more or less. Then we fall into quiet rumination, each gaze around the table aimless, contemplative. Jake plucks his bottom lip, Javi rubs a hand along his buzzed head, and Trevor stares at a spot on the ceiling. They’re likely replaying past incidents or interactions with Jensen and wondering how they missed the signs, what they could’ve done differently, and if they’re to blame in any way.
Something Jensen mentioned in the room eats at me, so I say to Javi, “Tell me what happened after Logan died.”
“You mean after you ended the friendship,” he says, but I don’t flinch at his brutal honesty. None of us are in the mood to sugarcoat reality. “He crashed hard. Lost his job, stopped paying the bills for the house. He slept all day while Jake was at school, then he drove around for hours at night before parking down the street from your house until sunrise. I followed him for several days, and it didn’t take me long to realize he was mourning you instead of Logan.”
Jake rises to his feet and paces, his irritation evident in his cinched features. “He said he got laid off because business was slow at Bruno’s. How many lies has he told? How many secrets does he have? I feel like I don’t know my own brother at all. And after everything we’ve been through.” He chokes on the last words.
Tatum reaches his side in an instant and wraps her arms around his waist. “He’s been hiding from himself, Jake. Not from you.”
“How did you help him back then?” I ask, my focus still on Javi.
Sighing heavily, he slouches in his chair and admits, “I didn’t. I confronted him and got him to confess his feelings for you. But, like you, I left him to his secrets as long as he didn’t hurt anyone. When things weren’t getting better, I told him Jake still needed him, and that seemed to snap him out of it.”
Need.
“The magic word,” I whisper softly enough for no one to hear. Louder, I ask, “Did you know about the room?”
Affronted by my accusing tone, Javi scoffs. “Of course not. He had the only key, and I never had a reason to doubt him when he said it wasn’t safe.”
The room wasn’t safe—not for Jensen. As he feared, all his secrets are now exposed. He can no longer hide from the people who love him most.
Trevor drums his fingers on the table, deep in thought as he stares at me. “Do you love him? If he hadn’t forced his way into your life in recent months, would you have come back to him one day?”
Well, that question is unexpected coming from Trevor. When I blow air between my lips and open my mouth to respond, he holds up a hand to cut me off.
“We’re not the ones who deserve the answers. That’s between you and Jensen. It’s just something for you to think about while we get him some help.”
Ready to go, Javi stands and pushes his chair under the table. “I have someone in mind I can call. In the meantime, lean on your friends. Jensen’s not the only one struggling. You are too, and you have a big decision to make. Do you stick by him and see him through this? Or is he too much for you to handle? I’m not a psychologist, so my opinion doesn’t mean much, but I’m guessing there’s no one-and-done solution here. He’ll face his mental health challenges forever. Are you willing to face them alongside him?”
Shoving my chair back, I ball my hands into fists and invade Javi’s personal space. I’m fed up with him not trusting me, and the hard edge in my voice lets him know it. “I’m not leaving him. Don’t ever doubt me again, Javier. Especially when it comes to my feelings for Jensen.”
He raises his hands in surrender. “Fair enough.”
“What happens now?” Trevor asks as he slides the laptop into his bag. “How do we get him out of bed?”
Four sets of hopeful, pleading eyes beg me for guidance, and I drag my hands down my face, hesitant to hand over the key to unlocking Jensen. Maybe . “If what I’m thinking works, we’ll be manipulating him. We could do more harm than good.”
Jake clasps my hand between his. “Maisy, he hasn’t eaten in days, and we need to get him out of his fucking bedroom. How do we bring him back?”
Hoping I’m right, I say, “Tell him I need him.”
The guys leave, but Tatum stays behind with me and Pam. We move to the couch, where they sit on either side of me. I’m lucky to have their support, and I’m beyond grateful I don’t have to face the coming battle alone.
“Thank you,” I say to both of them. “The last few months would’ve been too much for me if I didn’t have your help. With Vera and what happened in Philly and now with Jensen…I needed you both. Need you both. I couldn’t get through this without either of you.”
“But you will get through this.” Pam puts an arm around me, and Tatum does the same, sandwiching me between them.
“I will,” I say, more determined than ever to stand by Jensen the way he stands by me. Looking at Pam, I remind her of our conversation on the night I first broke my silence and spoke to him. “You told me I’ll know when I’ve found my place because I’ll fight tooth and nail to hold on to it. Well, I’m here. And I’ll fight like hell for Jensen.”
The pride shining in her eyes brings tears to mine.
Tatum lays her head on my shoulder. “He’s worth it,” she says.
With every tired bone in my body, I agree. “He is.”