No Boundaries: May 2012

Short Story

Inspiration: This is the final draft of my first fiction writing class piece. This particular story evolved from the plot bunny of a woman finding the resolve to leave her abusive boyfriend, but then later finding that it’s the only form of normality she knows; and so she stays. Thinking about my original idea and what I transformed it into, I found it parallels the song “Bleeding Love” by Leona Lewis. In any case, enjoy the fruits of half a semester of labor. And just heads up, it’s 26 pages of labor. I couldn’t find an appropriate place to break it down.

Broken

Alicia Rolindo stood before her black lacquered, full-length mirror in her white-washed childhood bedroom, inspecting her latest outfit. She gave her reflection a tentative smile that quickly fell flat when she noticed her hair, thin and streaked with unnatural strands of white. She reached for the black comb on her white dresser and attempted to hide the strands. Frustration was clearly splayed across her face as she tried to rearrange strand after brown-colored strand over the unsightly white, fluffing them for faux volume. Her efforts proved futile and she threw down the comb in a huff.

It’s all a part of getting old . . . I guess.

Alicia suppressed a mournful sigh, and returned her attention back to her reflection. She brushed her hands along her face, which seemed bonier than she last remembered. In fact, the purple turtleneck, and jeans hung loosely against her body in an awkward slant, a testament to her loss of weight. A frown marred her features as she examined her sallow complexion, contemplating her bodily disposition.

Must be those early morning walks.

The mental lie eased its way into Alicia’s mind and grounded itself into a believable delusion that settled her nerves. She rolled up the sleeves of her turtleneck to adjust the awkward look. Nausea and panic built in the pit of her stomach at what she saw. Her mind couldn’t make sense of the scars and burns that were etched into her flesh; they were the reality of what she had yet to accept wholeheartedly. She tugged the sleeves down to their original position and averted her eyes, breathing erratic, heart clenching painfully and her stomach turning over in obvious discomfort.

I must be imagining things . . .

Alicia tentatively returned her gaze to her reflection in the mirror and nearly gasped at what she saw. Her hair was full and white-streak free; her figure was prominent against the stretch of fabric hugging her body; her skin had regained its healthy flush of liveliness. It was as though the image in the mirror from before was nothing more than a bad dream, quickly replaced by a more desirable picture of womanly perfection.

“That’s better . . .”

She did a slow turn before the mirror, admiring what she saw; her smile came easily this time.

The steady hum of her phone on her dresser drew her away from her euphoric self-admiration and into the reality of why she had been so concerned about her looks in the first place. She read the text and sent a quick reply before pocketing it and leaving her room. She entered the kitchen after a short trip down the hallway and found her sister, Maya, struggling with a basket full of clothes. Alicia went over to help Maya juggle the basket over to the circular oak table.

“What’s for dinner?”

Alicia tossed a sock that had fallen out of the basket onto the top of the pile.

“I think I’ll make a roast. You want to help?”

Alicia joined Maya at the table, the basket obstructing their view of each other.

“Sure. Do you need me to get anything from the market?”

“Nope, I have all that I need, but if you don’t mind could you make a side dish and some veggies?”

“What do you have in mind?”

Alicia felt the nagging vibration of her phone in her jeans’ pocket and pressed a hand against it to muffle the sound.

I hope Maya doesn’t hear it . . .

“Maybe some string beans and mashed potatoes. We have all the ingredients already, enough for two.”

Damn . . . I wasn’t expecting that . . .

“W-What about . . . dessert?”

Alicia fumbled with her words, but hoped she didn’t draw suspicion from Maya. She peeked around the basket to watch Maya’s face, hoping with all her being that Maya wouldn’t turn down the idea before she even voiced it.

“You have something in mind?”

Alicia breathed a mental sigh of relief that her sister was, at the very least, willing to listen to what she had to say.

“Yeah . . . I was thinking of making Mom’s fruit salad, you know the one with the kiwi, peaches, pears, apples and the honey glaze?”

“I remember . . . vaguely.”

This time Alicia sensed a bit regret in Maya’s words. Of course, Alicia knew it wasn’t Maya’s fault that she didn’t remember many things about Mom. Clara Ann had stopped living after their father, Mitchel, left her. After that a simple task like making dinner, one of her favorite pastimes, became an unwanted chore.

“You’ll really like it. I just need to run to the market to buy the ingredients . . .”

“No.”

It was soft, but Alicia knew the firmness that the single word encompassed. It broke something inside her to be denied so outright.

“I’ve been cooped up for far too long and the market is only a fifteen minute bus ride from here. I know you want to protect me, but that doesn’t mean I need to be a prisoner in this house.” The words were out before Alicia could stop them.

Alicia recognized the harshness of her words but knew it was the only way to sway her sister. “I promise to be careful while I’m out there.” She reached across the table and gripped her sister’s hand in her own. She hoped her eyes could convey her honesty even it was all a lie.

“Will you be gone long . . .?”

Maya’s words took on a soft, childish lilt that surprised Alicia more than anything and made her hate herself even more for deceiving her.

“I’ll be back within an hour. If I’m any later than that you can send out a search party for me. Okay?”

Alicia attempted to make light of the situation, but Maya’s face remained stony and conflicted. She stood and joined Maya on her side of the table and collected her in her embrace, offering comfort and reassurance all in one gesture.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Standing this close, Alicia caught the quiet sob that escaped Maya before it was squelched and a tension tightened her posture. She felt Maya draw away stiffly and was met with a fierce glare.

“I’m holding you to your promise.”

The words were firm, Alicia noted, but the brimming moisture in Maya’s eyes ruined the effect.

Alicia held Maya’s face in her hands briefly, before breaking away from her, no longer able to hold steady eye contact. She was, after all, lying through her teeth. Of course she’ll be back safe and within the hour but . . .

Maya doesn’t need to know where I’m really going.

Alicia waved to Maya and gave her a smile she hoped would convince her that everything would turn out okay, then spun sharply on her heel and left the kitchen, headed for the front door. Her phone hummed in agitation in her pocket as she was making her way down the hallway to her gateway of freedom.

I’m on my way out. Alicia hit send and then clutched the golden door knob and turned it fluidly before stepping past the threshold. She shut the door behind her soundly and made her way to the corner of the block before turning down a side street. A white SUV parked beneath a curtain of willow branches was her destination and she didn’t hesitate to go around to the passenger side and climb inside. Her heart was in her throat and her breathing came in frenzied huffs and wheezes when at last she turned to her husband Michael seated opposite her in the driver’s seat.

“Alicia . . .”

His voice was barely above a whisper, and yet it carried both volume and weight in the silence of the car.

Alicia moved toward him and she allowed herself to be swept into a fierce embrace. She couldn’t help the sob that escaped her throat or the silent tears that eased their way down her cheeks.

“M-Michael . . . I’ve m-missed you . . . s-so m-much.”

Her sobs nearly made her words unintelligible, but she knew Michael understood.

Michael’s soothing words and gentle caresses along her back tempered her momentary emotional breakdown and she drew away from him, swiping at a few stray tears. He held her hand a moment before placing a kiss along the inside of her palm. Alicia shuddered, relishing in the intimate contact, but stiffened when he attempted to work the sleeve of her turtleneck up her forearm. Panic reminiscent of earlier, clawed at her mind and she snatched her arm from his grasp before she could relive the nightmare.

Not again . . .

An awkward silence passed between them and Alicia fought to regain whatever grip she had on the pleasant reality she had created for herself. She refused to meet his gaze and instead focused on fastening her seatbelt.

“We have an hour. We better get going.”

She kept her gaze averted and found interest in the scenery just outside her window.

Alicia was surprised when Michael started the car without a word, but didn’t allow the emotion to show. They drove amidst the oppressive squeeze of silence that had settled about them, for what seemed like hours, avoiding the topic Alicia knew was bound to come up sooner or later. She just wasn’t prepared when it did.

“You need to tell Maya the truth.”

Alicia turned and settled her gaze on him. He sat upright in the driver’s seat, hazel eyes never leaving the stretch of pavement before them. Those eyes she fell in love with, both unwavering and beautiful, contrasted sharply with his neatly trimmed, jet black hair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Alicia watched him adjust his frameless, Perry Ellis glasses on the tan bridge of his nose before returning her attention to the view just outside her window. His sigh urged her from her thoughtful daydream.

“Dammit, Alicia, you know what I mean. Your sister Maya thinks I did this to you.”

Alicia flinched when he tossed his hand in her general direction. His eyes never left the road. Even when he was angry, she knew him to be so very careful and conscious of his surroundings. She rolled up the sleeves of the purple turtleneck she had borrowed from Maya and examined the bruises and slashes etched into her forearm. She saw and felt nothing, not even the slightest twinge; for that she was thankful.

“What’s going on with you, Alicia? You won’t tell me a damn thing. How do expect me to understand or even help you if you don’t even give me that much?”

The desperation in his voice startled her and she stiffened against the implications of his words.

Why haven’t I told him? He has a right to know.

And yet, despite this, her tongue remained solid and heavy like lead. How could she ever begin to explain how she felt if she barely understood what was wrong?

That’s not true. You know what’s wrong, you’re just afraid to admit to it.

“I’d tell you if I could, but . . .”

“What’s stopping you? What has you so shaken up that you won’t sleep, you barely eat and you’re slashing your wrists and burning yourself for God-only-knows what? Please, Alicia, for the love of God tell me something!”

It took a moment for Alicia to realize that they had stopped moving and were currently pulled over near a park overlooking the restless sea and gray clouds huddled around the mass of buildings that stood proud in Manhattan. She could feel his eyes on her, expecting an answer. She soaked in the silence that had settled around them like a heavy fog, unwilling to voice the thing that had been eating at her for nearly a month.

“I don’t know . . .”

Her words were breathless and full of defeat and she hoped that he would take the hint that the conversation was over. Now was not the time for her to divulge such secrets. But, like she knew he would, he persisted.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch my wife of two years, drowning in misery? I’ve been tearing my hair out this past week, wondering what I could have done to make you want to hurt yourself.”

Everything and nothing, she was tempted to say, but suppressed the urge to be cryptic. She knew he wasn’t looking for vague answers.

“I honestly believed you when you told me you caught a cold up until I came home late from work and found you in the tub with your wrists slashed and unconscious from blood loss.” His hand on hers surprised Alicia and she stifled a gasp, before meeting his gaze.

“I haven’t seen you in the past five weeks, because your sister Maya was so adamant about having you in her custody after they released you from the hospital. If it weren’t for our arranged meeting today, I would’ve been separated from you for the rest of this year. She thinks I’m some kind of monster. Hell, even the nurses’ that night believed I was responsible for your injuries.”

He dropped his gaze and Alicia felt a fine tremor race from his hand holding hers along her arm to spread throughout her body.

“Am I a monster, Alicia? If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me.”

This time, Alicia noted, his voice had lost some of its desperation, replaced by strong chords of painful guilt. When he leveled his gaze with hers again, his emotions shone clear within their depths. Their intensity almost drew the truth from her, but she remained firm. Her free hand found the dark stubble marching along his square chin and tensed upper jaw, before dropping back down to her side.

“It’s nothing. You’re perfect. Everything about you is.” I’m the one who’s flawed.

“Please, Alicia. I want to help. You have no idea what it was like to find you that night. I thought I’d lost you . . . There was just . . . so much blood. I hated myself then for not being by your side when you needed me most.”

His sudden, breath-stealing embrace surprised her, but she was reluctant to return it. Guilt clenched greedily at her heart; she didn’t deserve Michael’s comfort and support, not when she’d been lying to him.

It’s my fault he feels this way . . . I seem to be lying to avoid the true issue . . .

Alicia gently drew out of his embrace, relishing in the warmth his hands against her cheeks permeated. His thumb brushed along the skin beneath her eye, and it wasn’t until she saw the moist gleam of a tear on his fingertip that she realized she had been crying. Having the evidence of her vulnerability staring her in the face tightened her resolve, putting some much needed distance between her and her pent up emotions.

“Our hour together is almost up. We better get moving before Maya starts to worry.” Alicia sat upright eyes focused unseeingly on the scenery before her.

The slamming of Michael’s fists on the gray steering wheel sent an unwanted chill through her; she’d never seen him this angry before.

“I’ll take you there on the condition that you tell your sister everything. I don’t care if you tell me or not, but I’d at least like for you to tell your sister. You’re the only one who can make her see the truth. If I tell her, she’ll just think it’s some lame-ass excuse for my neglect.”

There was a bitter, biting edge to the last that shocked Alicia.

What have I done to the gentle man I love?

Somehow, the thought of sharing even part of what she had been harboring frightened Alicia far more than sharing it all with Michael. Not all of what was ailing her directly involved him.

Revealing my secrets will hurt Maya far more than I’ve hurt myself. How can I ever reconcile such ugly, harsh truths with my one and only sister, especially after that day?

Alicia’s mind flooded with images of the night she was rushed to the hospital all encased in a vivid starkness that painted her mind’s eye with things she longed to forget.

It was the shouting that woke me . . . First Maya’s shrill cries for someone to “get out,” then Michael’s indiscernible pleas. The intermittent blips of my heart monitor cleaved through my scattered thoughts, scrambling any sense I could make of the situation. One thought was clear in my mind though: I needed to get out of there. I tried to sit upright, but the arms of an exhaustive weakness held me firm and I collapsed against my pillows, mind in a frenzied panic at being unable to move. I lifted my arm in the darkness, feeling the tell-tale cool pinch of an IV jabbed into my arm. Though I could not see it, the sensation of foreign fluids and nutrients being pumped into my veins sent an unwanted chill through me. Outside my door the shouting continued and I heard an unfamiliar voice soothingly tell Michael to return to the waiting room. I wanted to call out to him but my voice would not come.

The door swung open wide, bathing the room in the fluorescent lights beaming down from the ceiling outside the hall. It was quickly shut with a forceful slam and the smooth shadows of darkness returned. I felt Maya’s presence at my side, but I remained still, unwilling to make known to her that I was awake. Light flooded in from the right beating back the darkness. I held my eyes shut, hoping she hadn’t noticed the flutter of my eye lids as they adjusted to the sudden light. I barely stifled the jolt that went through my body when her hand found mine in a gentle, comforting gesture. Her free hand found my forehead and brushed back some strands of hair that had fallen into my face after my failed attempt to sit up earlier. And that’s when I felt her hot tears fall onto our joined hands, followed by the faint whisper of “I’m sorry,” over and over again. Her grip tightened on my hand then, “I should have been there, but I wasn’t and I’m sorry. But I will be this time, I promise . . .” I felt her face press against our hands and the trembles of her heart-wrenching sobs travelled up my arms and reached my aching heart. It was then that I vowed never to hurt Maya ever again, even if it meant keeping the truth from her.

It was because of that promise that Alicia made that night that she wanted to refuse Michael’s request—no, more like demand—outright, but something seemed to unclench a little around her heart.

Maybe telling Maya is my first step to remedying the mess I’ve made. Perhaps it can’t hurt to try.

“I’ll make a solid effort, if that’s alright. I make no promises.” She locked gazes with him briefly before returning her eyes to the stretch of road before them.

“Fair enough.” And then Michael restarted the car.

******

Five minutes of silence, filled only by the sound of the tires rushing along the smooth stretch of pavement, passed awkwardly between them. At last they rolled to a stop before a blue Victorian home with white trim. Alicia reached for the handle of her door, but hesitated a moment to assess what had been her family home for most of her life up until two years ago. Resentment over what had been stolen from her burned in the back of her mind, but she quickly extinguished the flames.

I’ll have plenty of time to brood over that when I get inside.

Alicia sucked in a gasp of surprise and nearly tumbled out of the car when Michael opened the door for her. Taking time to steady herself against the dashboard, she took her first tentative step from the elevated height of the SUV. The ground wavered uncertainly down below, dizziness bit at her temples and nausea swelled in the pit of her stomach. Her vision gave way to absolute darkness and when she came to, she was enveloped in Michael’s tight embrace.

“Are you alright, Alicia?”

She nodded slowly against his white button down dress shirt, inhaling the sweet tang of his favorite aftershave. The nausea and dizziness passed just as quickly as it came and she forced herself to step away from the comfort his embrace offered.

“I’m fine. Just a little dizzy, that’s all . . .” She recalled that she had neglected to eat that morning, which explained the sudden weakness that overtook her only a moment ago.

Alicia hated how helpless she sounded and forced herself to meet the concern she knew would be harbored by the hazel depths of Michael’s eyes. She hoped that she could convey with her own deep brown depths what her words could not. She didn’t fight him when he framed her face in the warmth of his hands and put up even less of a fight when he clasped her upper arms in a loose grip. Alicia stared down at the connection he had created between them and her stomach lurched when she noticed the reduced width of her arms. She couldn’t remember there ever being a time when her arms could fit entirely in the palm of Michael’s hand.

Is this the extent of my self-harm? And even as she thought this, she knew that it was not. Her mind was then set upon a panic-ridden path, but she only allowed it to revel in such emotions for a moment before brushing it all aside. Without a word, she stepped out of Michael’s loose grip and hooked her right arm in his left, before allowing him to lead her up the drive. They passed the white mailbox perched at the edge of the lawn, its red flag at attention, and scaled the wooden steps dowsed in peeling white paint. Each plank creaked under their combined weight, a protest and testament to generations of use.

Alicia paused before the white door to retrieve her keys from her faded, blue jeans’ pocket. The clinking and chiming of the keys revealed to her that her hands were not as steady as she originally thought.

“Alicia . . .”

She tensed against the unvoiced question his whisper of her name held. Michael was a line of heat and comfort at her side and it offered her the solace she needed. Alicia said nothing as she pressed her house key into the lock and twisted it. She felt the lock unhitch with a sigh and the spring of tension that had slowly begun to release within her, recoiled itself tighter than ever.

Once I step over this threshold, there will be no turning back, no more running away from the truth.

Reining in the fear that stabbed viciously at her heart, she placed the flat of her palm against the door, but remained still, unable to take that first step. Somehow it was much easier to leave than it was to return when she knew what faced her beyond the threshold.

“Do you want me to come in with you?”

Michael’s voice was soft and gentle; its intention, she knew, was to soothe, not to pressure her. It was a simple question and yet the affirmative answer remained lodged in her throat. She nodded, and without another word or a backward glance she pushed the door open wide and stepped inside.

The scent of lilac detergent clung to the sky blue walls of the narrow hallway leading to the living room, assaulting Alicia’s nose with a sucker punch of remorseful remembrances.

It was mom’s favorite.

The pang of heartache was brief as Alicia made her way down the hall suited for single-file use, which forced Michael to trail behind her after he secured the door behind them. Their steps were muted by the beige carpet turned a deeper shade of brown by the dust and dirt that had settled into its fibers. Along the walls, prominently displayed were photos of her family before it was ravaged by the tragedy of her mother, Clara Ann’s, death. In one Alicia stood beside Clara Ann just six months before Maya was born.

Alicia clung tightly to her, eyes and mouth transfixed into expressions of joy, Clara Ann returning the embrace with a similar facial exuberance painted across her heart-shaped face. She stopped suddenly in the hall, tracing the tiny features of Clara Ann’s face and noting the strain that had begun to form around her almond-shaped, dark eyes. She remembered how much work Clara Ann put into concealing those wrinkles.

******

“Beauty is everything.”

Clara Ann sat in front of her dresser mirror, applying an unhealthy amount concealer, followed by some vigorous swipes of her mascara to her already lengthy lashes.

“Mommy, can we play?” Five-year old Alicia stood beside her mother, tugging on the strap of her mother’s red velvet cocktail dress.

“Not now Lici. Mommy is busy.”

Alicia pouted, lip trembling from unshed tears. Clara Ann turned and kissed her on the forehead before leaving the room. The residual print of Clara Ann’s painted lips were all that remained when Alicia heard the front door open then close; she was left alone again.

******

Alicia, now thirteen, sat upright in her bed, listening intently to the sounds of Clara Ann and her father Mitchel arguing from somewhere deep in the house.

“I just don’t understand . . .” Clara Ann’s voice was saturated with the drippings of betrayal.

“What’s to understand? I found someone else and I don’t want that unborn child complicating my new life. Get rid of it or I walk.”

There was no mistaking the threat in her father’s voice.

“Why? Why in the hell would you want me to kill our baby—our precious Maya?”

“I never wanted any children with you Clara. The first was an accident, but I put up with it because it made you happy.”

Alicia flinched, unable to suppress the hurt her father’s heartless words caused her. Her heart throbbed painfully in her chest, but despite this, she felt compelled to listen in until the end, no matter how much it hurt.

“So why in hell did you bed me then? We’ve been together for thirteen years and now you want to throw it all away from some common slut!”

Alicia heard the tell-tale slap of flesh against flesh then a crash. She ducked under her covers, as though it could protect her from what she could not see. Despite the harsh pace her breathing had taken on, she still managed to catch the last of her father’s words.

“If you won’t get rid of that thing then I will!”

Alicia leapt up at that, not giving herself enough time to think. She found her mother curled on the floor, blood seeping into the front of her yellow nightgown. Alicia screamed wordlessly, hurling herself at her father and pounding her tiny fists against his thighs. He tossed her aside with ease and she skid into the leg of the kitchen table, hitting her head. Her vision wavered, splitting into fuzzy duplicates. Alicia watched helplessly as Mitchel walked out of her and her mother’s life for good then crawled over to Clara Anna’s so still body, calling out to her.

“Mommy . . . Mommy! Wake up!”

Clara Ann stirred and let out a painful moan before gripping Alicia’s upper arm tightly. “Call for help. . . I think I might be losing the baby . . .”

Alicia didn’t hesitate and tore the phone from the wall, frantically dialing 911. “It’s my Mom! She n-needs h-help!”

Her voice broke with a sob, tears streaming down her face. The world around her spun and she slid to the floor, receiver cradled against her ear . . .

******

Michael’s question disrupted Alicia thoughts and she retreated from the picture, fending off the unwanted memories that clung to her mercilessly, even as she tried to shake them off. They continued down the hall until they reached the rich burgundy washed walls of the living room.

“Alicia? Is that you? I’m in the kitchen.” Maya’s voice carried over the lull of the radio and Alicia could hear the sound of water running.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Alicia took a deep breath, trying hopelessly to steady her nerves.

Michael’s gentle hand on her shoulder gave her the strength to press on despite the uncomfortable knot that had settled in her stomach. They skirted past the burgundy couch set before a black, lacquered coffee table and approached the archway that led to the bright, sunny yellow of the kitchen. Alicia stood frozen in the doorway a moment, watching Maya dry the plate she had just washed before placing in the white cupboard above her head to the left. Maya’s hair hung loose and free, the way the Clara Ann use to wear hers when she was in the kitchen. The sweet, soulful melody of “My Sweet Lord” filled the air.

Yet another one of mom’s favorites . . .

“I started to worry when your trip to the market ran a little longer than an hour. Did you find what you needed?”

Alicia noted that Maya’s tone lacked the worry that had laced her words earlier, but it was still there in the tension that held her spine ramrod straight and suffocated the air about them.

Maya turned around with a smile. She was dressed in black jeans and a white, button-down, men’s dress shirt two sizes too big that she wore when doing chores around the house. Alicia noted that Maya’s eyes were like Clara Ann’s, both soft and kind, but in their dark centers, they held a hardness that only true anguish and suffering could plant. Her face projected the beauty Clara Ann’s did—heart-shaped, and rounded out by an angular chin.

Even her smile is like Mom’s.

She looked like the bright, vibrant twenty-three year old Alicia had always wanted to be.

Those years are long behind me now.

Then, as Alicia watched, the brightness of that face and smile faltered before hardening into a frown of speculation and judgment.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

Alicia followed Maya’s line of sight to Michael who stood behind her, feet planted firmly. From his face she could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation.

“I asked him to meet me.”

Alicia meant for her words to bring comfort as opposed to alarm, and yet, despite this, her intention became lost in the fury Maya exuded.

“Get him the hell out of our kitchen before I call the cops.”

Alicia flinched against the sharp, coldness of Maya’s words and turned to Michael.

“I think you better wait outside for me.”

“Are you sure?”

Alicia watched in awe as Michael’s concern melted into contempt for Maya, who stood her ground, matching his expression with equal heat.

“She has no right to keep me away from you.”

Though he kept his eyes on Maya, Alicia knew he was addressing her. The dark edges that crept around Michael’s words were as unfamiliar to her as his newfound contempt for Maya.

“The hell I do!”

Alicia didn’t have to turn to know Maya had crossed her arms underneath her breasts in defiance.

Michael’s gaze returned to hers and softened with the concern she had come to know so well. She almost wished that he could stay with her and help her through this.

“Are you sure?”

The last held a hint of bitter determination that Alicia translated into his willingness to stand by her side and face down Maya’s wrath. After all they were co-conspirators of their much needed reunion.

“Yes. I’ll be fine.” When he seemed reluctant to go, Alicia took his face in her hands and held his gaze with her own. “Go. I’ll be out soon.”

And with that, she watched him reluctantly leave her in clutches of Maya’s silent fury. The silence that followed filled the room for several minutes before Maya’s voice shattered it.

“Mind explaining what he’s doing here? When you left earlier today, I was under the impression that you were going to the market to pick up some ingredients for your fruit salad, not rendezvousing with the man that’s been abusing you.”

Alicia stood helpless in the doorway as Maya settled in a chair at the kitchen table. Gathering all of her courage, Alicia slumped down into a seat across from Maya, mind racing to find an appropriate place to begin.

“It’s not what you think.”

Alicia toyed with the rows of rolled up cotton of her turtleneck sleeves, still struggling with how to begin to explain what had been weighing on her heart for over several weeks.

“Sure doesn’t seem that way to me. Look at what he’s done to you. How could it not be what it looks like?”

Maya’s voice softened at the end and Alicia summoned the courage to look her in the eyes and tell her the truth—the real truth.

“Michael wasn’t the one who hurt me.”

“Then who, Alicia? He seems like the only likely suspect.”

“It’s not him, Maya. It’s me.”

“Don’t you lie to me dammit! That bastard hurt you and deserves everything that’s coming to him and then some. Covering for him isn’t going to solve anything.”

“Maya, listen to me, Maya . . . I’ve been the one hurting myself. Just let me explain. Please . . .”

Maya sat, silently waiting, eyes hard, but glittering with unshed tears. Alicia took a deep breath, preparing herself for what needed to be said. That’s when she felt her face grow hot with unshed tears. She reached up to swipe at her eyes, her fingertips coming away with moisture. The warm droplets trailed down her cheeks and onto the inside of her forearms, riddled with the markings of her self-abuse. Her eyes, still brimming with tears found the image of herself reflected in the mirror just beyond Maya’s head; she saw herself for the first time then.

Dark circles had permanently implanted themselves in the caved in flesh beneath her eyes. Her skin, which once held a healthy, tanned glow now, had been reduced to a pale, splotchy canvas, stretched taut over sharp cheekbones and the purple turtleneck she had borrowed from Maya that she thought fit so well, hung loosely from her half-starved body. Her body, she now knew, was nothing more than a hollow shell, housing the tortured soul of a once vibrant twenty-eight year old.

“Oh, God, you’re telling the truth, aren’t you?” Maya shed some tears of her own this time. “I don’t understand . . .”

Alicia shuddered against Maya’s gentle touch on her forearm, still unwilling to take that final step on the road of truth. She withdrew her arm from beneath Maya’s hand and cradled it against her body, recoiling against the judgment she felt was sure to come.

How could she ever understand? She didn’t lose her childhood when mom died. I did.

Swallowing down a heavy dose of bitterness, she met Maya’s gaze with her own.

“You’ll never understand the difficulty I endured raising you when I was only 18. I couldn’t finish out my last year of high school because I needed to find a job right away so I could pay the bills and keep us clothed, sheltered and fed. I had to watch you to go off in my prom dress to enjoy what I was never given a chance to and pretend to be happy about it. My life ended before it could ever really begin, and it’s all because of that promise I made to mom that I would take care of you no matter what.”

The bitterness had somehow found its way into Alicia’s voice and she hated that her words had come out so harsh.

“Oh, Alicia, I’m so sorry . . . I didn’t know . . .”

Maya’s tears returned, flowing in torrents and dropping onto the table.

Of course you didn’t.

Alicia’s mind had taken on a distasteful derisiveness that tingled with a cool burn and yet at the same time shamed her. She took a deep breath and started again, this time, trying to keep her emotions in check.

“Mom had breast cancer and never told us. In fact she had instructed everyone who knew to keep it from us. She always smiled and lived through the pain, never allowing us to glimpse weakness. Then, one day, just like that, she was gone.”

Alicia paused, staring down her hands, allowing a few tears to roll before continuing.

“I wanted to hate her for leaving me with the hefty responsibility of taking her place, but I knew it wasn’t her fault. She loved us and only wanted what was best for us. She didn’t tell us because she didn’t want us to worry about her. But, by God, I wish she had. I spent so many years wallowing in self-pity and allowing resentment to eat at my heart until I met Michael. He offered me the life I’d always wanted—one filled with youthful promise—and I took it without hesitation. As a lawyer of his own firm in Manhattan, how could I refuse the financial security he provided? But beyond that, how could I refuse a man that loved me despite the baggage I carried when we first met?”

The tears had returned full force this time, but Alicia let them run their course. She felt Maya reach out to comfort her through the pain, but Alicia recoiled, a clear indication that she wanted no comfort; she didn’t deserve it for the hurtful things she had said.

“That’s not all there is to it. There has to be more. You wouldn’t hurt yourself over something long past. Tell me what happened.”

Maya’s gentle tone coaxed the final truth from her, the one she had kept from Michael all this time. Her mind spun as she thought of that night five weeks ago; it was such a harmless conversation and yet it altered the comfortable reality she had found herself living in at the time.

******

“I’m home.”

Alicia heard Michael shut door to their apartment behind him and crossed the stretch of living room carpet to greet him at the end of the hall.

“How was your day, baby?” She kissed him tender and with longing, relishing in the intoxicating sweetness of his lips.

“Wonderful now that I’m home.”

“Now, now, there will be no sweet talking before dinner.” She tapped his nose gently with her index finger before leading him to the couch. She curled up beside him, tucking her feet underneath her. “So tell me. What’s new at work?”

“The usual; taking clients, solving cases. My partner Jamison has been out for over a week now with his wife. She just gave birth to a baby girl.”

Michael pulled out his phone to show Alicia the picture Jamison had sent him. “She’s so tiny. She barely matches the length of Jamison’s arm, or so he told me. Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yeah . . .” Alicia gave a weak smile and shifted uncomfortably, unsure of where this was going.

Michael tucked his phone away in his suit jacket before shrugging out of it and tossing it against the back of the couch. His gaze was intense with a fire Alicia recognized.

“Perhaps, someday, we can make a little miracle of our own.” His lips spread into a sexy grin that always seemed to melt Alicia’s resolve.

She returned it with a nervous smile, swallowing deeply as he inched closer to her. Her body reacted instantly when leaned in to kiss her, though her mind rolled over in anxiety.

Doesn’t he know that I don’t want any children, at least not now? He did say someday, but that could mean anything . . . Oh God . . . He’s driving me crazy . . .

Alicia was already breathless with need when at last he pulled away. Any thoughts she had at that moment were obliterated by her overwhelming need to be loved. They exchanged no words as Michael carried her into their bedroom fully clothed. He loved her body in every way that it could be loved then held her against him as he drifted off to sleep. Alicia’s mind however tossed about, trying to remember whether or not they had used protection.

Oh no . . . What if we didn’t? Then that would mean that I might be . . .

Alicia didn’t give her mind a chance to finish its thought and careful shrugged out of Michael’s slack embrace, hastily dressing in jeans and an oversized nightshirt. She crept out of their shared apartment and drove to the nearby 24-hour pharmacy to pick up some emergency contraceptives. She took it in the car, chasing it down with half a bottle of water. Eyeing her frazzled appearance in the mirror she started to think over Michael’s behavior.

He wants children, that much is clear to me now. But how do I tell him that I don’t, that it’s just too soon and that I may never be ready? No, no . . . If I tell him, he might leave me. He may not get my fear of giving up my youth for the sake of raising his children. I can’t, just can’t do it alone . . . But for now, to preserve our relationship, I’ll keep my thoughts to myself . . .

With that final thought fueling her resolve, Alicia drove home.

******

Alicia returned to reality with a jolt, before locking gazes with Maya to share her secret—a watered-down version at the very least.

“Five weeks ago, Michael brought up children and I panicked. We made love that night and I couldn’t remember whether or not we used protection. I was so scared that I would become pregnant that I rushed to the pharmacy to buy some emergency contraceptives. ”

“Didn’t Michael realize that you were uncomfortable with the idea?”

Contempt had crept back into Maya’s voice and Alicia felt the need to neutralize it before it got out of hand.

“I kept my emotions in check—shielded them from him. I wanted to preserve our relationship at any cost, even if it meant I had to lie about my feelings. How stupid would it be for me to ruin my relationship with Michael simply because I’m terrified of having children?”

Instead of Maya chiming in with a defense of her emotions like Alicia expected, she was met with that same small, child-like voice Maya had used earlier.

“Is it my fault?”

At first Alicia was unsure of how to answer, but knew that honesty would be best, even if it stung a little.

“Yes and no.” Alicia held up her hand before Maya could speak and continued. “I was afraid if I became pregnant, I would turn out to be a terrible mother. I didn’t want my resentment over my lost childhood to translate to my children and make them feel unwanted. Raising you was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but it taught me a lot about the difficulties of motherhood. I’m certain I’m not ready to go through with them again, not just yet, but perhaps someday. Most of all, I was afraid of hurting Michael. What would he say if I told him how I felt?”

“He would say that he loves you and would never want you to go through with something you weren’t ready for.”

Michael’s voice echoed from the doorway, and panic raced its way through Alicia’s veins, kick-starting her heart into overdrive. He came over to her and held her to him in a warm embrace that she slowly returned in kind.

“I wish you had told me sooner. You don’t ever have to feel like you’re hurting me for feeling the way that you do. I just want you to be happy. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

Michael drew back from their embrace and kissed her lightly on her forehead. They shared a smile before Alicia turned to Maya who sat glaring at Michael. Alicia was relieved when Michael didn’t return it, but took note of the strain around his eyes.

He’s fighting the urge for me . . . He’s trying to say in so many words that he forgives Maya, but I don’t think she sees that.

Silence filled the room, smothered in tension. Neither Michael nor Maya said a thing as they stared each other down.

It’s my fault they’re like this. I have to do something to remedy the situation.

But before Alicia could open her mouth to say something, Maya interjected, shattering the silence.

“I don’t trust you to take care of my sister.” She was pointing at Michael sharply. “You’re not around half as much as you should, so how can I possibly be at ease leaving her in your custody? I will allow you to visit from time to time, but Alicia will stay with me until she’s fully recovered. Until then, you better watch yourself.”

And then with a sharp scrape of her chair against the tiled floor, she stormed out of the room.

The tension that had crammed itself into the room drifted on after her and Alicia sagged in relief, mentally celebrating their small victory.

“Did you hear that? She said you could visit.”

“Yeah, I heard. I just wish the offer hadn’t been strangled to death by a threat.”

Alicia laughed a genuinely joyous sound before pulling Michael down to her level. She kissed his forehead like he had done before and held out her hand. He took it firmly in his grasp and kissed along her knuckles.

“It doesn’t matter that she threatened you. Just be glad that we’re progressing toward making things right and that we’ll be able to do it together.”

-END-

Author’s Notes: So what did you think? Please leave me your comments, thoughts, suggestions and critiques. As always, thanks for reading!

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