Past
ONE, TWO, THREE. ONLY THREE? I held the pills in one hand and the empty bottle in the other, thinking back to how long it’d been since I picked up the prescription from the pharmacy.
Today was Saturday. Saturday, Friday, Thursday, Wednesday. I picked them up on Wednesday. We were out of eggs and I stopped by the pharmacy on the way home from the market. But how could that be? These were supposed to last way longer than four days. I had to be missing something.
“Hey, Lennox?” I called as I walked upstairs to the spare bedroom where he’d decided to hole himself up the last few days. It was a change in scenery from his usual lounged position on the oversized sectional in the den off the kitchen. There, he spent way too much time wallowing in his misfortune by observing Sports Center and any other channel that replayed football highlights. I hoped today I would find him watching something else, a comedy to lighten his mood, perhaps. Or maybe it’d be best if he was asleep. This injury and its aftermath was exhausting. For all of us.
“Babe?” I crept into the darkened room, whispering, “You awake?”
“Go away,” he grunted, pulling the duvet tighter around him. His voice was groggy and dull—something I’d gotten used to over the past month—but the dismissal was something I’d never accept.
Summoning indifference to his sour tone, I insisted, “You can’t keep pushing me away, Lennox.” Although I knew he’d object, I walked over to the window and drew the blinds, allowing sunlight to paint the shadows with much needed life. “Let’s let some light in this—”
“Shut that! I’m trying to sleep! Why can’t you leave me alone already?”
I was starting to think it was better when he was drowning himself in Sports Center clips rather than hiding in here, away from the world. Away from me.
A good part of me thought about leaving him be a little longer. I could be coming on too strong. Expecting too much, too soon. It was only a month ago that his hopes and dreams were crushed along with his ankle. Maybe I should’ve been more sympathetic. But I couldn’t bear to see him like this. He wasn’t the Lennox I knew and loved. He was despondent and irritable. And that was on a good day. At his worst he actually screamed and shouted hurtful things at me and Violet. His parents had already come and gone. They came to stay with us immediately following the accident, and even they decided to grant Lennox’s wish to leave him alone by going back to Florida. I wanted to be mad at them for abandoning their son in his time of need, but I guess there was only so much abuse one could take before they had to remove themselves from the situation.
I didn’t have that luxury, however. It wasn’t an option. I loved Lennox unconditionally. We hadn’t taken marriage vows—yet—but I was in this for better or worse. This happened to be our worse. We would get through it. Eventually. I couldn’t give up. I wouldn’t give up, even if it meant fighting enough for both of us.
After leaving the blinds closed, I sat on the edge of the bed and dared to touch him. My hand hovered over his body before I thought better of it and withdrew. It wasn’t time yet. It felt like forever since I felt his hands on me; intimacy was so far out of the realm of his awareness. I was okay with that, though. I knew what he needed now had nothing to do with sex or lustful affection. He needed comfort and support. I could do that. I would take care of him forever if I needed to; it was a promise I made to myself that day at the stadium. And part of fulfilling that promise was figuring out why there were only three pills left from a one-month prescription.
“How many pain killers did you take today, Lennox?” I cut right to it, knowing it would be a matter of seconds before he ordered me to leave him alone again.
Without lifting his head or making eye contact, he barked right back, “I took what I needed. I’m in pain, Eden.”
I knew he was. He wasn’t lying. I’d witnessed his screams of agony when the doctors examined him. Groans of torment through gritted teeth when I helped him bathe. The way he winced when he moved his leg the wrong way. The desperate cries in the middle of the night while he slept and relived the nightmare in his dreams.
But I also knew his pain was not solely physical. I’d been around it enough to know the symptoms. Lennox was suffering from deep depression. Of course he was; his career was over. Never again would he play the game he loved so much. His loss was equivalent to experiencing the death of a loved one. He was grieving, but I couldn’t let him lose himself in that grief.
“We’re going to talk to the therapist tomorrow. Things can’t continue like this.”
“Like what? Why are you on my case? Stop smothering me, goddamn it!”
I took a deep breath and fought back tears. “I’m smothering you because I love you. I’m not asking you to get up out of bed and join civilization. I’m trying to take care of you. You can’t let this ruin you. I won’t let that happen.” If I had a dollar for every time I made this speech . . .
“It already has.” The conversation was over after that. It always was.
When he spoke like that I chose to tune it out and walk away. I wasn’t having any of it. He was not ruined. He’d get over this. He’d be my vibrant, loving Lennox again one day. I could deal with him this way for now if I hung on to that slice of hope.
I stood from the bed and slipped out of the room. “I love you,” I whispered as I closed the door behind me. For the millionth time since the accident, I prayed my love would be enough. And for the millionth time since the accident, he didn’t say it back.
ANOTHER MONTH PASSED. ANOTHER CLUSTER of days that seemed to fly by yet dragged on endlessly. Not much changed. Lennox was still in a funk, and I was still at a loss how to help him.
I continued to dote on him, and there were even times he cracked a smile. On those rare occasions, I caught a glimpse of the Lennox I fell in love with and hung on to it for dear life. He finally emerged from his cocoon of darkness when I dangled the threat of weekly psychotherapy sessions in addition to his daily physical therapy. “I don’t need to talk to anyone, Eden. I just need to come to terms with it in my own time. I won’t let someone else tell me how to deal with this.”
I accepted his refusal of therapy—unhappily of course—but I had faith that he was coming around little by little, on his own terms, like he said. We even went back to making love, which was a huge step in the right direction. He was broken but not unfixable. I could mend him given time.
But then I started to notice something troubling.
At first, I convinced myself I was being sensitive, suspicious of nothing. Maybe my harried thoughts had gotten the best of me during such a stressful time. Still, I kept this bit of wariness in that corner of the mind that sets off warning bells and nags you with reminders every once in a while. Keep an eye on them, it said. It’s most likely nothing, but keep your guard up. So that’s what I did, even if it made me seem like a pesky bug buzzing around, hovering, waiting to land.
“Vi, did you see this?” Lennox called to my sister from the couch. It was a Sunday afternoon—usually a sensitive day in our house for obvious reasons—and for the first time in a long time Lennox wasn’t focused on a football game or a highlight reel. He was watching some reality show about a bunch of people who’d become famous for absolutely nothing but whining and fighting with each other on national television. I found it silly and annoying. Lennox and Violet, however, had found common ground. They’d taken up binge watching whatever reality drama they could get their hands on.
“Yeah. I read they’re getting married next month. She’s pregnant. I don’t even think it’s his kid.” She bounded past where I sat at the kitchen island working on my laptop, and pounced next to Lennox on the couch. Handing him a bowl of his favorite Cap’n Crunch cereal, their eyes never left the screen.
With a muffled huff and a roll of my eyes, I went back to my work, but just like that pesky bug buzzing around, hovering, waiting to land, I kept one eye on them.
That night, after Lennox went to bed and I was cleaning up the kitchen, Violet was warming herself a cup of tea and fixing a late night snack. My eyes were tired and heavy from too many hours in front of a computer and my mind was spinning with that nagging suspicion again.
“Hey, can I talk to you about Lennox?” I blurted. Never in a million years did I think I’d have to talk to her about him. It was as if they had this relationship, this bond, outside of what he and I had shared for the last seven years. I didn’t like it. I was probably overreacting. I should be happy they had each other, that they got along and cared for each other. That he was able to be himself around her and open up at a time when he was so unhappy. Under normal circumstances, maybe. But nothing was normal about our current circumstances. Lennox had distanced himself from me and from the world since the accident. Yet he seemed fine with Violet, their friendship untouched; growing stronger, in fact. I was jealous of my sister and I needed to know if I had a reason to feel that way.
Wrapping her hands around the mug, she blew on the tea, the steam floating up to swirl around her face that was beautiful even when scrubbed free of makeup. “Sure, what’s up?”
I wiped my hands on a dish rag and hung it over the sink. “How’s Lennox seem to you lately?” Beating Around the Bush 101. Call it what you would, but I had to tread lightly with Violet. If I gave her a reason to be defensive, she would be; that wouldn’t get us anywhere. I needed to get somewhere to quash this worry.
“Good. A lot better than he was. Don’t you think so?” It came out so nonchalantly, as if she knew the ins and outs of Lennox the way I did, that I had to blink back my annoyance.
“Yes, much, but . . . I don’t know . . . I feel I could be doing more to bring him back. What do you think? Has he talked to you about me at all?” God help me for coming off so intrusive, so insecure. This was not my finest moment.
Violet took a sip of her tea, wincing. The scalding temperature of the liquid must have burnt her tongue because she waved her hand in front of her mouth as she placed the mug on the counter. “What more can you do, E? And no, he doesn’t talk to me about you. We talk about those stupid shows he likes to watch to get his mind off what he’s going through. He needs distraction. I think focusing on the accident is what makes him lash out and push you away.”
She was schooling me on my own boyfriend, and while her advice was duly noted because it was good advice, it was hard to swallow that she might know what Lennox needed better than I did. I scratched my head mindlessly and let out a long sigh. “You think that’s all it is?” I asked, hoping she’d shed more light on their conversations. Watching them do their own thing while I distracted myself from stress with work was not easy. But it was those little chats with Violet, the laughter they shared over the latest Bravo program, that kept Lennox in the land of the living. I had to be grateful, even as I resented I wasn’t the one doing that for him.
Violet’s gaze penetrated me; deep chocolate eyes, hair as black as night, lips plump and smiling. She was an exotic and captivating creature, my sister. I loved her. I was proud of how far she’d come. I was happy with where we were in our lives and our relationship. She’d been a shoulder to cry on when I needed her, a voice of reason when I couldn’t think straight. So when she assured me everything was okay, I believed her. “Would you stop stressing, E. He’s coming around. Let him do it his way. You have nothing to worry about.”
Past
MY SISTER TRUSTED ME AND I lied to her. I wish I could say it was the first time, but it wasn’t. I’d been lying for a while. Lennox and I had a secret to keep, something in common, something we couldn’t share with Eden. And as wrong as it was to show loyalty to Lennox instead of my sister, I did it because I understood what he was going through.
I understood addiction.
I knew what it was like to crave a fix of poison.
I knew what it was like to need numbness from reality.
I knew what it was like to hide my sins from my loved ones.
I knew it was wrong to help Lennox down this path, but I did it anyway because I knew what it was like to be desperate for that help.
I told myself I wouldn’t let it get out of hand, that I could keep it under control and help him maintain his habit sensibly.
But when the blind led the blind, the chances of winding up down a dark alley or a deep ditch were pretty fucking great. I told my sister she had nothing to worry about. I would choke on those words one day.