“It’s just a fucking training injury.” Training injury? What the fuck did that mean? I wanted to sit down in the alley, in the dirt, next to the asshole and needles filled with Hep C and learn about everything she’d had to deal with, but I could feel her slipping away.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she said, trying to push off me. “I have to get my meds adjusted.”
“No you don’t, it’s me.” I held her tight. “I’m here.” For that moment, stuck together in the dirty, dark alley, everything came together. It wasn’t perfect, but then nothing between us ever was. It was calm, though, and tranquil. For that moment, we were whole again.
Then it all snapped and broke as both our heads shot to the side at a loud noise. The asshole she’d kicked to the ground shot up and ran stumbling out of the alley, and the brief respite we’d had went stumbling out with him.
Lenny shot me a glare. “This is ridiculous. I’m not…” She shook her head. “I’m not going to listen to this. I’m moving on. I’m moving past us. You’re dead. Just stay dead.”
She moved to follow the asshole, but I panicked. For weeks I’d been watching her, telling myself I would let her go, that I would do whatever needed to be done so she would be happy and safe. For the first time in those weeks, I finally acknowledged the lie.
Without Lenny I was breathless, I was lifeless, I was soulless. I pulled her back, afraid that if she left the alley I would lose her forever.
“Get off me!” Lenny screamed, sinking her nails into my forearms. I refused. I wrapped my arms around her, straightjacketing her with my muscles. Holding her, I let her nails forge into me, letting her screams echo around us. I wouldn’t let her go, not any more, never again. I’d let her go too many times in our past. Going forward, never again.
Eventually she settled down. Breathing heavily, she relaxed into me, nails still dug into my skin.
“That was you at the bar, wasn’t it?” she whispered. My silence stretched, twisting until it tugged on my gut to answer. Instead, I breathed in the smell of her hair.
“Wasn’t it, Vic?” she pressed.
“Yes.”
She knocked her head against my still pretty fucking sore nose and, in my surprise, I let her go. Spinning around, she faced me, eyes flashing in the dark. “I thought I was going insane! I nearly checked myself into a hospital. I thought I was seeing the ghost of my ex.” She paused, taking her lip between her teeth. I didn’t say anything, didn’t try to defend myself. There were no adequate defenses for how I’d acted. Sure, I had my explanations, but nothing would be good enough.
I waited for her to speak again and with one hand wiped the blood from my nose. It had been broken more times than I could count, though this was definitely my favorite way. She walked back and forth, muttering to herself, occasionally cursing. My name was uttered a few times, but never at me. “Have you been following me?” she asked, her head darting up.
“Yes.”
“For how long?” She rushed to me, her delicate features suddenly right in my face. Where before she had been looking at the ground, now I saw everything: her pain, her confusion, her anger, her resentment—it was all right in my fucking face.
Now it was my turn to look away. “Since the funeral.” I didn’t look up, but could tell by the volume of her voice that she’d walked away.
“I’ve felt your presence everywhere. I’ve felt it like the sun on my back. I’ve had to go to the therapist every single goddamn day. She said it would get better, that eventually my grief would fade to sorrow and my sorrow would fade to sadness and eventually…eventually I would let you go, but I knew that wouldn’t happen. I knew I would go mad before that happened.” Lenny took a break, her breathing heavy. “Now I know why, because you were never gone… How could you?”
“I had to do it. It was the only way to keep you all safe.” It sounded lifeless and worthless, even to me.
Lenny cocked her head to the side as if weighing the worth of my statement. I knew it was going to come out shit. “We’ve done some pretty fucked up things to each other, but I think this takes the cake.”
“If I hadn’t
done it you would all be dead.” The words were starting to feel like my religion. And I hated religion.
“You could have told me!” Lenny yelled, rounding on me. “You could have let me know instead of…instead of…” Her chest started to rise and fall and she sat down. I went to her but she smacked me away.
“What am I supposed to do now? Pretend you’re dead even though I’ve seen you, heart beating and all?”
“Well, Grace and Eli know, so that should make—”
“Grace knows?” Lenny cut me off. “You told Grace before me?”
“I didn’t tell Grace,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “She found me. What was I supposed to do, pretend I was the ghost of Marley or some shit?”
“No,” Lenny said, her voice a dangerously low decibel. “You do not get to talk to me that way. I just found out you have been lying about your death and who the fuck knows what else. I get to be angry. You don’t get to be anything but contrite.”
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
Folding her arms, Lennox regarded me. “How the fuck did Grace find you? Aren’t you supposed to be in hiding?”