Clarity 3 (4 page)

I open my eyes, and inhale deeply. In an instant, the panic is gone, but I do feel a thin film of sweat covering my chest. I try to quickly rid myself of the old feelings. I know them well—it’s part of a nightmare I’ve had a thousand times. “I’m fine,” I tell him weakly. “I’m so sorry. I just thought—I thought I heard you call me Helen.”

“Did I?” he asks.
“I don’t think so. I’m sorry if I did. We should probably stop.”

“What?” I say with a different kind of panic. I realize then that Liam has pulled away from me completely, and that his body is no longer close to mine.
I reach out to grasp his arm. “Liam! It was just a moment of—something. Please don’t stop.”

“W
inter,” he says slowly. “Your pupils just dilated.”

“So?” I say in confusion.

“Your disease prevents your eyes from perceiving any light. You could look directly at the sun and your pupils wouldn’t change size. But you just looked at me and your pupils dilated—with fear.”

“I’
m not afraid,” I say, but it’s a blatant lie. I am afraid—terrified of the fact that he’s walking away from me now after we nearly shared something so intimate. Am I too damaged for him to love me? “Liam, please,” I whisper brokenly. “Come back. I’m sorry.”

“Look,” he says softly, squeezing my hand. “We’ve had a rough night. Maybe this just isn’t the right time.
Besides, I’m a little worried that my stitches might break open. I could feel them straining. I should probably let my leg heal first.”

“
Really?” I say skeptically. “Are you sure that’s bothering you? Because it’s the right time for me.”

“There’s also the fact that you’re my patient,” he says hesitantly. “I really shouldn’t...”

“What the hell!” I say angrily, ripping my hand away from him and gesturing to the sofa. “And all this—haven’t we already done enough for you to lose your job?”

“Yes,” he says quietly. “
But the truth is that I think we’re doing this for the wrong reasons. After what we’ve been through tonight—this is just stress relief. It’s understandable that we would want to lose ourselves in this and forget. But it’s not right, Winter. It’s just going through the motions.”

“
How can you say that?” I whisper in horror.

“
I want to have something real with you,” Liam says. “I wanted this to be about you and me. I don’t want you to be thinking about anyone else. I don’t want you to be with me while remembering someone else. You can’t just use
us
to erase something bad.”

These
words hit me like a stab to the heart. I try to conceal the hurt from my face. “I can’t control my bad memories.”

“Maybe you just need time,” he tells me. “Maybe we were just moving way too fast. It’s probably my fault. I’m sorry. If we did this now, you would
just be using me to override someone else.”

“I’ve had time,” I say quietly, turning away from him to face the
inside of the sofa. I wrap my arms around myself and stare forward blankly. “It’s just the first time since...”

Tears begin streaming down my cheeks and I cannot finish my sentence. I try to remain very quiet and still so that he won’t know that I’m crying. I feel so humiliated.

Liam places a hand on my waist, and the contact against my exposed skin makes me flinch. I try to hold my breath so that he won’t feel my tears. I remain very still, praying that he’ll go away.

“I have a
large t-shirt that you can wear to sleep, if you want,” he says kindly. “It’s an old Yankees jersey. It’s very comfortable.”

The fact that he is being so sweet
causes more tears to slide across my nose in a veritable torrent. I would normally try to make a joke about actually being a Mets fan, but I haven’t the energy. The idea of wearing his shirt to sleep sounds lovely—I still want to be close to him, but he seems so withdrawn. It feels like it’s over between us.

“I have clean towels if you want to take a shower,” Liam says softly. “
In case you don’t remember, the bathroom is the door near the entrance. Also, if you’d like to sleep in the bed, I could take the couch if that would make you more comfortable.”

I wrinkle up my face at these words. I must be extremely repulsive to him if he
doesn’t even want to sleep in the same bed with me. It is especially painful due to the fact that I was really looking forward to cuddling with him and being held. Now, all these fantasies are shattered. I feel miserable and unwanted.

“
Just...” Liam emits a small sigh of defeat. “It’s been a rough night. I think we’re both feeling a little vulnerable and not thinking straight. I just... I didn’t want to take advantage of you.”

The phrase causes my stomach to turn over in disgust. He’s treating me like fragile glass. Like a child. I suppose I deserve it, because I
certainly feel like both of those things at the moment.

“
Let me know if there’s anything you need. Goodnight, Winter.”

As soon as his hand leaves my side, I silently release the breath I have been holding
. I wait until I hear his footsteps walking away before I breathe in and let a small sob shake my shoulders. I can’t believe that I dared to think I could be happy. Only a few minutes ago, I felt like I was in heaven. I felt like I was loved, or at least wanted. But now, I’m lonelier than ever. Even more so than when I was actually alone, in the middle of nowhere. I was so close to having something perfect. Something normal.

I really didn’t need this little taste of all the things I’ll never have.

It hurts so much. Far more than I thought it would. How long until I get over this? And where do I go from here? Liam’s rejection stings and grates my insides in a much more personal way than Grayson’s violence.

Of course, it would
so happen that when I’m begging a man to touch me, he isn’t interested. He has better things to do. Yet when I’m begging a man to stop... he doesn’t.

Typical.
That’s just my luck.

I
close my eyes and command my weary heart to sleep and forget.

I am woken up by
a brutal pounding in my head that could only be one thing: a wine hangover.

Why does wine always give the
worst
hangovers? I press both of my hands against my forehead to try to quell the dull throbbing. My body aches and feels sore all over. I am also rather weak, and I need to lie in place for a moment before I can even attempt to sit up. When I reach out to push myself off the bed, I am surprised to find that I’m not on a bed at all, but on a leather couch.

I open my eyes
and feel around quickly to get a sense of my surroundings. There is a thin blanket draped over me that I don’t remember at all. I am shocked to find that under the blanket, my chest is bare and I am mostly naked.

The previous evening comes rushing back to me, and the memories make my head
throb even more. I sigh and crane my neck to listen for sounds of Liam moving around the apartment. There is only silence. Maybe he’s still asleep? I swing my legs off the side of the sofa, and wrap the blanket around me to form a makeshift dress. I move toward his bedroom and listen for the sounds of breathing.

“Liam?” I ask softly. Hearing no response, I move forward to touch the bed. I slide my hand over the comforter, and I discover that there is no one in the bed—and
the sheets have been folded perfectly smooth. It’s not even warm. He must have been up for a while.

Has he left the apartment? I am not aware of his schedule, and he might have needed to go to work today. I am a bit anxious at the thought that he might have
abandoned me, but also relieved that he doesn’t have to see the way I look right now. I can feel that the light makeup Carmen helped me put on the day before is smudged, and I am sure my hair needs to be brushed quite badly.

Thinking about Carmen makes my head pound harder. I remember the fact that I “broke up” with my only sister.
The entire night feels like a bad dream. I move through the empty apartment toward the bathroom to freshen up. I keep one arm extended before me to feel out my surroundings, and one holding my blanket-dress up against my chest. I knock on the door lightly to make sure it isn’t occupied.

“Liam?” I say a little more loudly. A
ghastly thought strikes me as I imagine him lying on the bathroom floor, dead from having bled out from his bullet wound. I shake my head to clear the ridiculous thought. I just can’t help worrying about him. I wish that I knew where he was—but even if he’d left a note, I wouldn’t be able to read it. Wherever he is, I know that he’d rather be there than here with me anyway.

This is the thought that finally clears
the fog from my mind and jumpstarts my day. I would like very much to get cleaned up and get out of Liam’s apartment before he returns. After the humiliating night before, I would rather
not
see him again. I just need to take some time to figure out where to go, and how on earth I’ll get there. Maybe a quick shower will help to lubricate my mind.

I am growing
annoyed with this new landscape. It was very inconsiderate of Liam to leave me to wake up alone in an empty apartment that I barely know. If he wanted to dump me after finding out that I was horrible in bed, there were better ways to go about doing so. After having hunted for what I hoped was a clean towel, and a bar of soap, I managed to scrub the makeup from my face and rinse my entire body. I was also embarrassingly forced to steal Liam’s toothbrush. Nonetheless, after the difficult task of getting clean, I do feel much better and more clear-headed. I have also developed an epic escape plan for fleeing the city.

The only issue is that I can’t seem to find
my underwear.

I have spent several minutes
crawling around Liam’s coffee table on my hands and knees as I hunt for my bra and panties. This whole day has been one mortification after another. It doesn’t help that my hands and knees are bruised and sore from falling on the cobblestoned ground last night. I didn’t feel it back when there were almost equal parts wine and blood in my body, but it sure does suck the morning after. The only thing that protects me from completely losing my dignity is a healthy dose of anger. I utter small curses as I battle to figure out the layout of the land.

This must be exactly what a blind lioness feels like on
the savannah as she prowls for scraps. When I bang into a piece of furniture for what must be the twentieth time, I release a frustrated growl and decide to give up. I have already put on my skirt, but I now pull my blouse on without my bra, assuring myself that my coat will cover everything I’m wearing anyway. I just need some fresh air as soon as possible.

I move to the coat closet and retrieve my coat and purse hastily.
As I slip my arms into the coat, and fasten it around me, I feel around on the ground for my shoes. Once I locate the discarded footwear, I hold the wall for balance as I slide my feet into them. Glad to have finally conquered the difficult task of getting dressed, I head to the exit, clutching my purse tightly in my hand and eager for my freedom. However, once I place my hand on the doorknob, a brilliant idea strikes me. I return to the coat closet and fish around for the coat that Liam was wearing last night. I hope that he hasn’t decided to wear it again today. When my fingers encounter the precise woolen texture, I nearly jump for joy. I reach into the pocket and retrieve Grayson’s metal pistol.

If I’m heading out into the world on my own, I’m going to need protection.
This seems like it might do the trick.

I stuff the weapon into my own pocket and unlock the apartment door with more confidence. As
I step into the hallway, it occurs to me that I have no idea where the elevator is. I was too focused on worrying about Liam’s injury to notice which way we were going last night. I begin moving awkwardly in one direction, before I hesitate and head the other way.

A door
in the hallway opens and someone steps out.

“So,
” says a woman with a distinctly New Jerseyan accent. It sounds like she’s chewing gum and taking a moment to appraise me. “Are you the doctor’s new girlfriend?”

I cringe at this question. “No,” I
respond. “I don’t think so.”

“Ah,” she says, chewing her gum some more. “So you’re doing the walk of shame, then?”

“Yes,” I respond bitterly. “I suppose I am.”

“What’s he like in
the sack?” asks the woman. “I’ve been trying to get Liam in bed since he moved in here, but I guess he likes ’em younger. He’s
such
a hottie, no?”

“
Look, lady,” I say with annoyance. “I’m blind. Can you tell me where the fucking elevator is?”

“Oh, you got a mouth on you. Relax, honey, I was just curious. The elevator is that way.”

“I can’t exactly see where you’re pointing,” I tell her impatiently. I feel a rush of rage bubble up inside me, along with a sudden loathing for this woman. She is not a real threat, and certainly not worthy of the gun in my pocket, but I still experience a great urge to rip her face off. At least my inner lioness has found her claws.

“Just turn around and walk in the other direction,” she tells me.

“Thanks,” I say, glowering at her before I swivel to march down the hallway. I trail my hand along the wall, hoping that I’ll notice the elevator buttons.

“Turn right!” shouts the woman. “The elevators are
right there.”

“Thanks!” I call back to her, a little uncomfortable with the fact that she has been staring at me walk down the hallway. I can’t wait to get away from this city and all its crazy inhabitants.

I find the elevator button and push it, hoping that there will be braille on the inside of the elevator to indicate what to press for the lobby. That is, if the elevator
ever
arrives! I stand in place waiting for a full minute before I begin tapping my foot in annoyance. Another full minute passes, and I begin to boil with fury. I am sure that it is visible on me in some kind of red glow, or steam coming out of my ears. I continue to stand there, seething at the elevator and vigorously jabbing the
down
button until my phone rings. I am embarrassed to admit that all my anger instant leaves me and turns into hope as I rip my purse open and fish inside it for my phone. I answer it rapidly.

“Liam?” I say breathlessly into the phone.

“No, Helen. It’s your father.”

I am
filled with a strange combination of disappointment and relief. “Hi, Dad,” I say quietly into the phone.

“Darling
, I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened. I’ve been at the hospital all night with Carmen and it’s just been madness.” His voice is tired and drained. He pauses for a moment, as if trying to gain his composure. “It’s good to hear your voice. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I tell him softly.

“And how is Liam? Heavens, child. Carmen said that he was shot!”

“It wasn’t serious. He stitched it up last night.
I think he’s doing well.”

“
Thank goodness,” my father says with a sigh. “I was so worried about you two, but I haven’t had a spare moment to call. Oh, sweetheart. I never expected something like this to happen in a million years.”

“
I did,” I mutter quietly.

“Grayson is a fine young man, and it’s so upsetting to see him like this. I don’t know what’s gotten into the poor boy. I think it’s just the pressure of the baby on the way and his work getting to him.
He seems to have... cracked.”

“No kidding,” I murmur.

“Yes, well... I just wanted to apologize for all of this and tell you that it’s safe to come home. We took Grayson to the emergency last night, but he kept muttering your name and saying that he was going to kill Liam. He didn’t even seem to recognize Carmen, and he attacked a nurse. Yes—even with his injuries, he managed to attack someone. They had to sedate him, and he’s been sent to a psychiatric facility. They’re not sure what’s wrong with him. Some kind of mental illness or breakdown.”

“Oh,” I say in response.

“Carmen says you warned her before the wedding but she didn’t listen. Why didn’t you tell me, darling?”

“I tried, but...”
I shrug my shoulders limply. This all seems so pointless to discuss now.

“
Helen, I am always here to listen to you. Carmen said you two girls had a fight? She’s really upset about it. Will you please come home and make things better, darling? The poor girl is so distraught, and it’s not healthy for her pregnancy.”