Sully #2
Her words are like a knife to the chest. I don’t know where to go, but I end up downstairs knocking on Fish’s front door. He answers in sweatpants with a dish towel over his shoulder, takes one look at my face, and steps back to let me in.
“Collette’s out,” he says. “What’s going on?”
“I need to talk to someone.”
“Of course, take a seat. Do you want a beer?” he asks.
“Sure.”
He walks over to the fridge, grabs two beers, comes back to the living room, and hands me mine.
“Talk to me, man. What’s up?”
I unload everything onto him. All the stuff that’s happened since that morning at the baths.
I tell him about my feelings for Ember, I also explain how I am coping with what happened in Vegas.
That I, too, am suffering from nightmares.
Every time I close my eyes, I dream that I wasn’t there in time, that I couldn’t save her.
Fish listens to the whole thing without interrupting, which for Fish is a miracle.
“Fuck,” he says when I’m done. “That’s a lot.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m sorry you haven’t felt comfortable enough to talk to any of us about what you’re going through.”
“I’m not going through anything, Ember is,” I tell him.
“Man, I think you might have PTSD.”
I still. “No, I don’t.”
“Look, I’m no shrink, but if you are having nightmares, I don’t think you’ve processed it.” Maybe he’s right. “You could talk to the team psychologist, they might be able to help.” He gives me a look. “I also think Ember should talk to someone. She sounds like she’s suffering from PTSD also.”
“You think?” I ask as I sip my beer.
He nods. “Again, I’m not a professional. You don’t have to deal with this alone, man. The boys and I are here for you.”
“Thanks,” I tell him. “I appreciate you listening to me.”
“Anytime,” he says, sipping his beer.
“You know how you said it could be PTSD? Do you think I might be a trigger? Because she said she’s scared of men, even though she knows I wouldn’t hurt her. She flinches when I’m around, and I feel like shit, and I know it’s not my fault but maybe I’m making things worse for her.”
“That’s a tough one,” he mumbles. “On one hand, that is your apartment, and on the other, it’s hers too. And you both should be comfortable there, unless one of you moves out … but I think you both should seek help navigating this situation as it has traumatized you both.”
“You think I should move out?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I mean. I’m just saying it’s a shit situation.”
“Maybe I should move out.”
“Seems drastic,” he says.
“Or maybe it’s what she needs to heal because it seems like being around men triggers her at the moment, and maybe that’s a reason why she’s not healing.”
“I don’t know. I get your logic, but …”
“It couldn’t hurt.”
“Is that what you want?” he asks.
“I want what’s best for her, and hearing what I heard earlier, she isn’t comfortable around me.”
“As long as it’s temporary,” Fish says.
“Maybe I need my own space.”
“Really? I thought you liked living with them,” he asks.
“I do … but…”
“I think you should talk to Cassidy. I don’t think you should make any snap decisions right now.”
Maybe he’s right. We continue drinking our beer and changing the conversation onto work.
Cassidy’s in the kitchen when I come in, on her own, and I’m glad, because I need to tell her before I lose my nerve.
“Where’s Em?” I ask.
“Lying down.” She looks at me. “What’s wrong?”
“I signed a lease.”
She blinks. “You what?”
“Just now. There’s a furnished unit free one floor up. I signed for it and got the keys. It’s short term for the moment, but …”
“Sully!” She sets down the mug in her hand. “What are you talking about? Move out? Why would you … this is your home. Why on earth would you move out?”
“Because I have to, Cass.”
“I know things aren’t great right now, but moving out. Talk to me, please.” She looks shocked and hurt. “Is this about the scratches? Because, Sully, she would die if she thought you were leaving over that, you know she …”
“I heard what she said.”
Cassidy stops. “Heard what?”
“I came home early from the gym, and you two were on the couch. I wasn’t trying to listen, I just …
I heard her, Cass.” My voice isn’t quite steady.
Her face changes as she realizes what I’m saying.
“I heard her tell you that men scare her now.” I make myself say it.
“All of them, even me. That I’m a …” My throat closes, but I force it out. “That I’m a trigger.”
“Oh, Sully …” Cass walks over and hugs me.
“And she’s right.” I keep going before she can soften it.
“She’s not wrong, Cass. I’m a man who’s in her space, and her body can’t tell the difference in the dark.
Every night I’m in this apartment I’m making it harder for her, not easier.
I heard it in her voice. She can’t heal with me down the hall.
So, I’m taking myself out of the equation. ”
“No, that is not what she meant …”
“It’s exactly what she meant. And it’s okay.
” Nothing about it is okay. “I’m not upset with her, I could never be upset with her.
But I can’t sit here every night being the thing that scares her.
I can’t do it, Cass. I can’t be another reason she’s not getting better.
” Cassidy’s eyes are filling up. “So, I have to go,” I say, quieter now.
“I can’t stay, not for me but for her. She needs this apartment to feel safe, and it can’t feel safe with me in it.
So, I’m going one floor up, and you two are going to have this place to yourselves.
She never has to worry about walking out of her room and running into a man in the dark. ”
Cassidy opens her mouth. And then I see her eyes move, past me, over my shoulder, to the hallway.
And everything in me goes cold.
I turn around and Ember’s standing there. She’s in an old T-shirt with her hair loose, and her face is white. I don’t know how long she’s been there, but I know from her eyes that it’s been long enough. Long enough to hear all of it.
“Em,” I say.
She doesn’t say anything. She just stands there, looking at me, with tears welling in her eyes, and there’s something breaking across her face that I would give anything to take back.
I realize the one thing I was trying to spare her from, knowing she’s the reason I’m going, I’ve just done anyway, out loud, in our kitchen.
“Em, I …”
“You heard me,” she whispers.
I can’t lie to her, not about this, not to her face. “Yeah,” I say. “I heard you.”