Next to You (Life) (8 page)

“Did you have lunch?” I ask as her stomach growls, she shrugs and as usual, I worry. “Becca you know I hate when you skip meals.

“Don’t, Becca,” I say and lift her chin before she begins yet another episode of her favorite soap-opera. “I ask because you fill your stomach with problems instead of food and then forget to eat. The last thing we need is for you to bring up your past. Not today, please.”

“I came here after breakfast.” She clears her throat. “I have been writing since then.”

“That’s less than half page.” I point to the letter I just read.

“Oh, you’re not the only person I talk to.” I feel as my eyebrows come together, what does she mean with ‘I’m not the only one’? “There’s Buddy, Raj, Drew, Ty, Ash, Mary, Co—the list is long.”

“It’s good to know you didn’t close yourself off to the world, Bex.” Becca tilts her head to one side and keeps listening, as usual I have her full attention. “Heck, I’m glad you didn’t send me to hell after all the letters I sent.”

“And emails you mentioned in your early letters. Emails I’m curious to read,” she adds. “It was bound to happen, you’re…explosive.”

If only you knew about how explosive I am, baby.

“They’re gone,” her eyebrows lift as I say that, I guess she needs more context. “The emails I sent to you. My IT boys wiped them…most of them were MA and you only like G or PG stuff.”

Chapter 14

“
W
hy are you
doing this?” Becca asks Drew who looks at her sheepishly—like an idiot in love. I’m glad Becca agreed to join us for an early dinner after what seemed an awkward first time reunion. We’re eating at IL Lago, the main restaurant of the Four Seasons where we’re staying. “I can only imagine.”

In that moment, Raj walks through the French doors wearing a casual long sleeve shirt and jeans. He smiles at Drew and then grins at the site of Becca.

“Don’t imagine,” I tell Becca, “or ask, I beg you. They might disclose to you, what that thing is that he likes.” I point at Drew. “The last thing we need is another Sharon.”

Sharon was one of Buddy’s ex-girlfriends. She loved to share things that should stay behind closed doors or at the bar, after he closed shop, the car when they couldn’t wait or the elevator of our place, if they wanted to piss off Nate. Doggy style is—was—her favorite position. During one of those too much information moments, she disclosed something Becca had no idea what it was until she Googled it. I was out of town and her computer ended up catching malware, and she couldn’t use her computer without getting several browsers to open at the same time with porn sites. To remedy the situation, she contacted the IT department and I think she’s still avoiding them. Every time we told the story her face went a thousand shades of red and her eyes rolled twice before giving a glare to whoever laughed at her—I was her usual target.

“No one can be like Sharon, Dan,” Raj tells me and stands next to Becca. “How are you, Bex?”

“Still traumatized by Sharon.” We can’t help but laugh at her. “We should penalize your kinky brother for letting his girlfriends talk about their sex lives. Why didn’t he come, by the way?”

“If you give me a hug I’ll tell you,” Raj says. She stands, hugs him and kisses him on the cheek. “Dan didn’t invite him,” he says then grins, I have a gut feeling he’s going to rub this visit in his face. “We all know that Buddy isn’t good at pretending or staying behind.” Raj shrugs. “You look human, sweetie. The living dead let you out of their dungeon?”

Raj and Becca talk some about the center, her new hobbies and in exchange Raj and Drew tell her about their plans. An important hospital in San Francisco offered Drew a position as the Emergency room director. However, he isn’t sure about accepting it because of Raj. Of course, other than telling him he’s working on it, Raj doesn’t disclose that we’re building a clinic in San Jose for cancer research. It’s part surprise, part we don’t want to give much information to anyone until we have everything settled.

“You two got cuter,” she tells them, her eyes fill with what she likes to call the HEA haze—happily ever after haze. “You’re both welcome, says my leg.”

My head snaps with her last words and the laughs. What the hell is wrong with her? Because breaking her leg should be something we should laugh about, even celebrate? Should I order the best champagne to toast about it? As much as I try to keep myself calm and continue what I now consider a charade, I can’t. My entire body stiffens and the only solution I find is to excuse myself and leave. Though, as I pass through the French doors, I feel Becca following behind me.

“Not now.” I stop as I reach the lobby, though I don’t turn. Anything can set me off and I don’t want to say anything I might regret later. “Give me a couple of minutes, Princess.”

“I would love to, but no,” she says without caring about the repercussion. She knows better. “Dan, what happened back there? Yes, I know the accident was the beginning of my crazy strike—“

“No, Rebecca,” I say, turning to face her. “Crazy began months before. That’s the day you told me what Ian did to you. I’ve learned to assimilate and accept the information. However, the date will never become a reason to celebrate. I’m glad my brother met Drew… but I won’t be able to look back and joke about it, as you just did.”

“Funny,” she says and I growl because there’s nothing humorous about this shit. “Every day I try to replace a bad or hurtful moment, with something beautiful, something good or a positive experience. That’s what I choose for that day, Dan. It doesn’t mean I’ll forget. Only that when despair tries to get ahold of me; I’ll battle it with the joy of knowing Raj is happy—with Drew.” She tries to touch my cheek but I flinch and move to the side. “God, I wish I knew what you’re thinking.”

I can’t, not any more—I think it is over. Without a word we head back to the restaurant and the silence stretches miles away from here. Her hunched posture and gaze toward the floor as we pass those dreadful French doors clues me into her sour mood. My visit only kicks the beginning of our
end
a couple of weeks or a month earlier. My heart wrenches as I realize there’s nothing left to say.

*

Becca walks from the car to the rehab center hugging her body, the uncomfortable silence pains me and by the look of her hunched body I assume she might share my mood. The list of things that our life piled to create this situation isn’t big, at least not on my side. The biggest is the uncertainty of having each other in our future. Then there’s the lack of communication, we can’t understand the other and it frustrates me. Anything and everything she says bothers me because it appears she’s trying to forget our time together. That is a fact I loathe, because even when those five fucking months were hell, they were the best of my life. Damn it, another example why I’m a living contradiction.

“Two weeks, Becca,” I say before pulling open the main door of the center. “You think in the mean time you can keep yourself out of trouble?” I try to joke, but there’s zero humor attached to my voice.

She nods and says nothing. The sadness I see in her eyes is different from any other I have ever seen.

Funny, every day I try to replace a bad or hurtful moment, with something beautiful, something good or a positive experience.

Her earlier words resonate in my mind. Shit, this can’t be over, not so soon, not without starting it. I take a step forward, lift her chin and try to close the emotional distance between us with a kiss. It is only a nibble of her, a small taste, in hopes that she can replace my sour mood and drenching behavior with a kiss goodnight. But what began as a brush transformed into a hungry, demanding kiss worth at least three months of missing her.

“Time,” I say once our lips painfully separate, I place my forehead on top of hers and my arms hold her tight. Becca isn’t opening her eyes, but I can see the tension on her face. “We’ll find it through all the wreckage; that puzzle piece we lost which connects everything. Please, Princess, don’t be sad.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Danny,” she whispers. “But you’re carrying the rage, I can feel it…you haven’t forgiven me. Will we be able to get past this?” She opens her eyes and tosses her chin back to the center. “I’m not going back to you right away, Dan, I need to be on my own for some time and that’ll piss you off even more, won’t it?”

“This can’t be over, Bex.” My words are more like an appeal not to close the doors and give a final judgment to our relationship, but I know in reality they won’t do much. “You won’t lose me.” She’s biting her lip. Her gaze locks to mine…but there’s nothing much between us only static.
‘What’s going to happen after this is over?’
she asked me one time.
‘I’ll die if I lose you.’
“I’ll always be next to you.” She sniffs but there aren’t tears coming out of her pretty eyes, and I have no idea what that means. “Even if it’s only as friends.”

“It’s over, isn’t it?” she murmurs hugging my waist and placing her head on her favorite place, where my heart is. I try to absorb enough of her to keep me alive until I move on or can let all the anger go. My body is missing her more than ever—so close, yet she feels further away than before. “I’ll miss you, Danny.”

“I’ll miss you too, Princess, I’m sorry.”

It can’t be gone, this can’t be it.
But a voice inside tells me that this is how the story ends.

*

“I thought you’d accompany me to say goodbye to Becca,” Raj says, before we left for Boston. He went to visit her one last time. I chose to stay behind. There were a few matters pending at the office and…what’s the point of having her close when she’s so far away. “She looks good, bored to tears, though she didn’t want to confess it, but I made her. Knitting isn’t her thing, nor is painting or…you get the idea.” He pauses while the pilot gives his usual speech and gets ready to take off. “Thought you were ready to drag her out of there, what changed your mind?”

“Becca.” I rub my temples with both hands. “She’s not ready, that’s what she claimed and I want to believe her. No, I do believe it. Boredom, I fixed it. Starting tomorrow her art stuff is part of the past, she loves to be in the kitchen and now she gets all the kitchen time she wants. Tony will be taking care of all the furniture in her room and Mary is sending her favorite blanket and most of her frames. I wish she had told me…that we could have found the place together and moved her properly.” Raj coughs, hiding what I’m sure is a full blown laugh. “Exactly, she didn’t trust me and I don’t blame her. She feels she needs more time and I need to respect that.

“Shoving her over my shoulder and taking her home was my first plan,” I continue my explanation. “However, it wouldn’t fix anything and might cause more problems along the way. I’m giving her time, but mostly, I’m giving myself time.”

“So you two aren’t over as she said?” Raj pats my shoulder, insinuating that he knew. It is but I don’t say it out loud—I’m not one hundred percent sure. Yet, I don’t want to give myself false hopes. “At least now that your temper has simmered, you are using that brain of yours and doing things that you’d have done long ago. Visit her. I know you, nothing stops you when you really want something. Which means, you didn’t want to see Becca, Dan, not until now. Am I wrong?”

There is no use reminding him that she left me, or that she didn’t have the courtesy to tell me about any of her reasons before closing the door. Becca waited two or three weeks before giving me a sign of life. Though I get it, the main reason of why she did all those things was me. I wouldn’t have allowed it, and today we’d be not only strangers, I think we’d be enemies…or as Buddy says she’d be history—dead. My mind also needed to settle, adjust and learn to function with all the changes that have happened—including her departure. But now, now is different. There’s a seed of hope, the storm passed and the clouds seem to dissipate. Though it doesn’t translate to us getting back together, only that I’m glad my friend is better.

Chapter 15

Dan,

You called me ridiculous, but I think you take the ridiculous trophy home. I don’t need new furniture, sheets or…well, for the rest I thank you. Having more pictures of my family makes this a bit more comfortable, and my blanket…have I ever mention you’re a prince? I forgot, if you go to Angie’s birthday party, please take pictures and send them to me. The downside of being so far away, I’m missing her milestones.

Thank you for the visit and I’m sorry for the mini-meltdown. It was great seeing you, talking to you and being with you for a little while. Maybe next time we see each other things will be less awkward and friendlier. Definitely manageable for both of us. You know what I was afraid about us? Ending up having the same pattern, me being needy and you giving in and then…me becoming this frail nonsense we both end up hating. I think at the end we both resented each other, though I know you don’t want to admit it.

Until next time,

Becca

Bex,

Things will be less awkward. However, for the first time after the big fall, it wasn’t bad. Perhaps not a big fall from your part, but from my side… let’s say I had a hard time grasping the events. The entire company knows you dumped me—that’s the extent of my madness. Not a story I’ll be telling you any time soon.

I resented you for making my life a living hell. You doubted me all the time, among your best repetitions: why would I love you when there were millions of women out there better than you. So, thank you for breaking us up, now I don’t have to exhaust myself daily to convince you of the things you should know and feel good about. We need to find a way to forget our past, Becca, I think that might be best.

Angie’s birthday…I’ll go, but only for a few hours and because you asked me nicely to take pictures of our little niece. Only a year and the Sanders are starting to talk about number three, can you believe it?

See you soon, beautiful,

D

Dan,

Your letter is a mix of happy and angry, did you read it before sending it? How far back do you want me to forget?

Abuse isn’t only physical, it can also be emotional. Once Grandma died, there wasn’t a shield between me and Mom. Donna always tried to insult me and make me feel like I was nobody. Those memories came to me when I went through hypnotherapy. Moms are supposed to love you and…well you know, she didn’t. That’s one of the reasons I became this introverted girl that tries to avoid close relationships. It’s easier not to get attached, in that way you can’t get hurt. I’m great at suppressing my feelings. It appears that I suppress all of them. Even love. That’s a Donna thing. Hypnotherapy, got to love it—and hate it. Imagine a little girl saying I love you, Mommy and the woman responding, well, I don’t even like you. Look at you, hideous child with charcoal color hair and an annoying voice, among other insults.

Well, I decided long ago that love shouldn’t be part of my repertoire, if I loved someone, I needed to shut it down. What if loving them would make them hate me? So here’s the thing, Dan, I don’t know how long I’ve been in love with you, it could be months—which I doubt—or years. Was it real love, dependency…and will this ever go back to where we can trust each other and talk without hurting us? You asking me to forget is hard, because I have no freaking idea of when our friendship ended and we began to feel more for each other. I really loved you and it appeared it was never a sibling or fraternal kind of love. You sleeping around hurt me, now I know it. Those lectures I gave you were for my benefit, because I wanted you to myself and not with those—women.

So here is the question, how far do you want me to forget so we can be friends again? Or should I forget your address and move on with my life?

Becca

Becca,

That was more than I asked for. Is Donna in the front seat of your actions? Donna Sanders made you think that ‘thank you’ was the only thing you deserved from her. More than a ‘thank you’ from anyone meant the world to you. Saying I love you sent you over the moon. Due to the same issue, you have a hard time dealing with, rejection. Yet, you love unconditionally whoever comes into your life and stays around for more than a week. I’m glad to know that there’s the recognition that I meant more to you than a friends forever bracelet. That our relationship wasn’t an insubstantial affair, but something meaningful to both. You’re right, we can’t forget. I certainly can’t, though I’ll be honest, during those few weeks we were together you became a job where I had to convince you daily that I did love you. Still, I felt whole.

I stop writing, and fighting with myself between crumpling up the paper or… why am I taking this road when I know better than trying to fix what is permanently broken? We are over, her suggestion of moving on isn’t far from the truth. Are we kidding ourselves?

I resent you for letting things go too far when you weren’t taking them serious. The day you left me, Becca, became synonymous with resentment. Where do we go from here? My promise is to be there for you when you need me, and I ask for you to do the same. We both are works in progress, because we’re humans, we learn from our mistakes and from what the world has to offer us.

There’s a plan, Becca, one where someday I recover my friend. I’m just not sure if it’ll be tomorrow or years from now.

D

Becca:

The party was interesting, I’m sending you pictures of the birthday girl and her parents. Matthew was too busy and I couldn’t capture him while he was on the run.

D

Danny,

Thank you for the pictures, she looks gorgeous. I’m glad she’s wearing the dress I sent her along with the headband—it looks more like a hat, doesn’t it? Angie looks so old. It seems like just yesterday we held the tiny three month old baby. When they have the next one, I’ll be outside the delivery room ready to hold the newborn. This time they’ll have to get a restraining order to keep me away.

Becca