Shocked. That was the only word I had for what I was feeling as Gabe’s father stood on the other side of my doorway the Wednesday after Thanksgiving. “Mr. Moynaha,” I said, startled. “Gabe isn’t here. I mean… weren’t the two of you supposed to be meeting at your office?”
Last night as Gabe was leaving, he told me he was going over to his father’s office today to settle all this for good. And while he seemed relatively optimistic about it, I was still unsure.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Black. Yes, we are meeting at my office in a little bit. I’m actually here to speak to you.”
“Oh, well, uh, come in.” I fidgeted as he walked in and began appraising our apartment. “Did you want anything to drink?”
Gabe’s dad turned around and offered me a smile, probably the first genuine one I’d seen come from him. “No, I’m all right, dear. Thank you.” A few tense seconds passed while he looked at the pictures on our wall and I ran my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans. With his back still facing me he finally spoke. “I can’t imagine what you must think of me. I know Gabriel’s not my biggest fan right now.”
“Oh, well…” I trailed off, unsure how to proceed.
He turned around and offered me a warm smile. “It’s okay, Alara, you don’t have to deny it. I know it’s the truth. I won’t deny I haven’t been the most dutiful father, but my son seems to think I’m out to destroy his life. What he doesn’t understand is that I’m doing this for his own good.”
“And I’m not for his own good?”
His smile turned sad. “I don’t believe so, no. But that is nothing against you, Ms. Black. My son just needs someone a bit stronger. More put together.”
My mouth went dry as I processed his words. “Put together?” I squeaked out.
“Dealing with depression is a serious commitment. Is that something you really want to burden my son with? Surely if you love him, you’d want better for him?”
The silence that followed had me nervously tapping my fingers against my thigh, and the atmosphere began to feel even more tense. “I don’t think Gabe sees it as a burden,” I said quietly.
“Of course he doesn’t right now. But tell me, have you had any kind of episode in front of him? Has he truly seen what it would be like to be with someone so broken?” I froze at his words, the only movement being the churning of my stomach and the racing of my mind. But despite feeling like I had been hollowed out, I was also getting a little angry.
“I’m not broken, sir. Yes, I broke. But I’m putting myself back together, day after day and one piece at a time. I’m doing that.”
He almost looked impressed, but it quickly disappeared as a pitying expression took its place. “Ms. Black, I’m glad you are doing better, but you cannot guarantee anything—”
“No one can guarantee anything!” I practically shouted. I lowered my voice before continuing. “I know I can’t guarantee that, in fact I could probably guarantee that something will happen again. But I’ve explained all this to Gabe, and I respect him enough to let it be his choice; maybe you should do the same.”
He nodded and straightened himself out. “Just think about what I’ve said. It’d be a shame for him to wake up one day hateful and resenting the life he chose.” And the person he chose it with, he silently added. If he had physically hit me it would have hurt less.
The door clicked softly as he let himself out, and I slumped back against the wall until I was sitting on the floor. My eyes closed as the first tears slid down my face. I sat there and replayed everything I had said to Gabe’s father, only now I was trying to convince myself. Because all I kept seeing were Naomi and Sherry’s faces when they found me almost a year ago. And when I thought about those sad, scared, heartbroken expressions and how it might look on Gabe’s face, I shattered. My body shook as my sobs grew louder and echoed around the empty apartment. I curled myself into a ball as I lay on the ground and cried myself to sleep.
“You’re late.” I stood up as soon as he walked in. Straightening out the wrinkles in my dress pants, I turned around and folded my arms across my chest.
“Well hello to you too, Gabriel. I had a prior engagement.” He closed the door and stepped around his desk before taking a seat. “I apologize for keeping you.” I sat back down as well but kept to the edge of my seat.
“I think you have a great deal more to apologize for.”
He nodded his head solemnly. “Probably. But I won’t apologize for trying to do what’s best for you. And this life is what’s best for you.”
“No, this life is what’s best for you.” I groaned in frustration. “Look, I’m not about to have the exact same argument for the fifth time. We clearly don’t agree and unless you have a white flag hidden somewhere, we’re not going to.”
“Gabriel, despite your low opinion of me, I don’t want to force you into this and I don’t want to send Samantha to Wendy. I—”
“Then don’t! It’s not complicated.”
He stared at me for a few minutes before speaking. “How do you expect to help this girl? Are you really ready for all it entails? Look at what happened after your mother passed—you left for six months. You couldn’t help your mother and you couldn’t help Samantha, so you left. Is that what you plan to do with Ms. Black? Is that—?”
“Stop it.” My voice was low and calm but it felt deadly. “You know nothing about her, and I’d never leave her. I can help—”
“No, you can’t. How are you going to fix something you don’t understand? How are you going to fix something that has no cause?”
I stood up abruptly. “I don’t need to fix her.”
He shook his head sadly. “You’re lying to yourself, and this girl is going to be the one who suffers for it.” I opened my mouth to respond when his secretary cut in through the speaker on his phone.
“Mr. Moynaha, your daughter is here to see you.” I cut a glance to my father, but he looked equally shocked. We both silently stared at each other, each trying to figure out if she was here to back the other up. But when his secretary said, “Sir?” we both snapped out of it and gazed at the phone.
“Yes, yes. Ah, send her in.” The click of the phone was immediately followed by the click of the door as Sam quickly walked in and shut it closed behind her.
“Samantha? What are you doing here, sweetheart?” he asked as he stood.
She was fuming when she stopped at the edge of his desk. “You can’t possibly think I’m going to let you threaten Gabe without doing anything about it, right?”
My father paled, looking nervous for the first time in… well, ever.
“Samantha, I’m sorry, but you’re still a minor and I’m still your guardian. Unfortunately you—”
“Have no say in the matter, I know. Except that I do. You can send me to live with Wendy; I’ll go without a fight. Hell, I’ll go willingly if it means you’ll leave Gabe and Alara alone.”
“Sam,” I said in a rough voice. She turned, looking at me for the first time, and gave me a small smile. “I can’t let you do that.”
She gave a humorless laugh before hitching her thumb in Dad’s direction. “It’s not really my choice, remember? And maybe he’ll grow a conscience and won’t send me.” She cut her eyes in his direction and mine followed. He looked torn, and not for the first time, I truly wondered about what kind of man my father was. There were times, like now, where I would have sworn I saw more in him. But then it would fade and he’d be the same no-nonsense businessman I’d grown up with.
“But,” Sam said as she looked back at me. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you break up with Alara, even if it’s temporary. She’s good for you. I’ve never seen you so happy.” Her sharp gaze landed on our father.
“Samantha—”
“No,” she said firmly as she continued to look at our father, disgust written all over her face. “What kind of man uses one child against another?” She shook her head as his face paled even further to a ghostly shade of white. “What the hell did Mom ever see in you?” The crushed look on my dad’s face was surprising. I guess he never expected Sam to turn on him; truthfully I never did either.
“I always wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. I agreed with Mom, keeping our family together seemed like the most important thing. But I’ve realized that you can’t keep something together when one part of it is constantly trying to run away. I don’t know if you ever loved Mom or if you’ve ever loved us, but—”
“Of course I love you, Samantha.”
“But, if you do this, if you force Gabe to do this, I will never forgive you, and I don’t see how Gabe will either.” Her eyes watered as she stepped closer to him. “I don’t believe you’re a bad man; maybe that’s stupid and naïve, but I don’t. I think some part of you genuinely believes you’re doing the right thing. But you’re not, you’re really not.” Her anger had completely faded as her tears began to fall.
I cleared my throat and took a small step forward before addressing my father. “Maybe I am making a mistake in walking away from the company. Apparently Mom constantly thought I was making mistakes.” I paused and threw Sam a small smile. “But she never did anything but support me. And when my choices didn’t work out, she comforted me. That’s what I need you to do.”
My father’s eyes shone as he cleared his throat and turned away from us. “All right. It’s clear I can’t change your minds. I won’t send Samantha anywhere. But, Gabe, I can’t promise this future will be waiting if you change your mind. The job will be filled and Miranda could be married—”
“Alara is not a possible mistake, I was not referring to her anywhere in that statement. That’s a done deal.” I looked over to see Sam’s tears had receded and she was smiling.
“Okay.” He coughed into his fist and stayed facing the window. “Perhaps you two should leave now.”
“Dad—” Sam started.
“Please, Samantha.” He sounded pained, and I was unaccustomed to the conflicting emotions rising inside me. Sam seemed to be feeling the same way but when our dad asked again, it was a broken plea, and we had no choice but to turn and walk out the door. I stopped outside as Sam lingered in the doorway.
“I think we all need time. But this doesn’t have to be the end of our family.” She paused as if she expected him to say something, and when he didn’t, her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Just think about it and call us when you’re ready.”
Sam slowly shut the door. We were standing in the elevator when Sam waved her hands and said, “Victory.” It was a sad sound, and her face fell as she realized just how screwed up everything was and might always be between our father and us. Because even though Sam was right, it was a hollow victory.
…
I ran my hands through my hair and loosened my tie as I stepped out onto the busy street. Despite the “success,” I felt rundown and pretty freaking low as I thought about what my father had said.
“Are you okay?” Sam asked with a gentle touch to my elbow.
“Yeah, just tired.”
She gave me a skeptical look before nodding her head down the street. “I have plans, but if you want to talk I can cancel them and—”
“No, no. Don’t do that. I think I just need to unwind.”
“Okay.” She nodded before wrapping me up in a hug. “But promise you’ll call me if you need to?”
“Promise.” Five minutes later she was in her car and out of sight. I checked my phone and in addition to seeing that it was nearly seven o’clock, there was a text from Alara.
Alara: Hey. How’d everything go?
I blew out a frustrated breath and shoved my phone in my pocket as I looked down the street toward the bar I frequented when I interned here. Without giving it a second thought I crossed the street and walked in, relishing the noise that drowned out my thoughts. I sat with my whiskey in hand and was debating what to say in response to the text when a soft hand rested on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“Hey.”
“Go away, Miranda.” I had tried to be nice, tried to be straightforward and not play games, but honestly there was only so much I could take. I rubbed my forehead, trying to alleviate the inevitable headache this conversation was going to give me.
“Is she really worth this, Gabe? Don’t you remember how easy it was with us?” she asked, getting right to the chase as she sat down next to me. She flagged down the bartender and ordered a glass of wine.
“I don’t want easy, not if it means settling.”
“We were happy. You weren’t settling.”
“I wasn’t unhappy, but that’s not the same thing. I’m happy now. I love her, and whether or not you or my dad can accept it, I am going to be with her.”
She blew out a breath before shifting toward me, causing our knees to bump. “Gabe, I know about her depression.”
“Jesus Christ,” I swore. “What the hell doesn’t my father talk to you about? And so what? There’s nothing wrong with her because of it.”
“I did some research,” she said softly. “About how depression breeds self-doubt and insecurities, and that they try to push you away.” She paused as I stared into my drink, trying not to panic at her words. “I read a lot of things and I don’t know if they pertain to her or not, but you’d never have to convince me of anything. I’d always trust you and know you loved me. I could handle anything you ever had to say to me. Can she?” she asked, and as she stood up and took a twenty out of her wallet, it was obvious that the question was meant to be rhetorical. This whole conversation seemed to be, because just like with my father, she had no actual interest in what I wanted or what I had to say. Miranda set the money on the counter and moved to walk away when I spoke.
“Everything.” She turned around with a raised eyebrow, her expression lost and curious. I thought back to everything my father and she had said, and even back to things Alara had warned me about. Yes, there was fear and uncertainty, but there was also hope and confidence, and I had to make those count more. Because I had never wanted anything the way I wanted her, and all my fears and thoughts always came back to me not being enough, never the other way around. I cleared my throat and said, “To answer your question from earlier: Alara is worth everything.”
I nervously tapped my foot as we waited for Gabe to come back from his meeting. Naomi, Derek, and Sherry were trying to cheer me up but with very little success. I hadn’t told anyone about Gabe’s father’s visit or my meltdown afterwards, it was all too raw, and honestly they couldn’t have said anything I didn’t logically know.
Gabe walked in ten minutes later wearing a crumpled suit and an expression of melancholy. He didn’t look at any of us as he walked into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a beer bottle plastered to his mouth, and when he finally finished his “sip” I saw that he had already drunk more than half.
“How’d the meeting go?” Derek’s voice was nervous and hesitant, two things he never was.
“What happened?” Naomi asked when he stayed silent.
He shrugged and dropped to the couch. “What I thought would happen.” He paused to clear his throat before doing a horrible impression of whom I assumed was supposed to be his father. “I’m to return home immediately and fulfill my duty to the family. I’m to marry Miranda, have two children, live in a white-picket-fenced house, and work beside dear old dad until it is my time to take over the business. If not, he’s going to send Samantha to live with some random aunt we barely know all the way across the country.” He chuckled like it was joke, and he did sound extremely sarcastic, but I didn’t know if that was because he told his father to shove it or because he was forced to make that decision.
“What…” I paused and cleared my throat before continuing. “What’d you tell him?”
Gabe closed his eyes as if he was in pain before roughly shoving his hand through his hair and standing up to place his now empty beer bottle on the table.
“It’s only a few months,” I said softly.
“What?” His voice was deadly low and when he looked up his eyes held a calmness that, ironically, was frightening.
I cleared my throat and aimed for a reassuring tone. “Your sister will turn eighteen in about five months, right? So we can just put us on hold until then.” The thought made me sick, but Samantha leaving was something I refused to let happen. I knew how guilty Gabe had felt when he left her before, and there was no way he’d want to do it again. And I could wait for him. As long as I knew I’d have him, I could wait.
“You want to put us on hold?” His tone held so many emotions I didn’t know what to focus on or address first. Disbelief. Confusion. Fear. Sadness. Anger.
“No, I don’t want to.” My mind raced and fear clawed at my throat, making it harder to speak. “I just think this’ll be best for everyone. Your sister gets to stay here, you have time to sort everything out, and your dad… well, your dad doesn’t get anything.”
“And what do you get?” he asked. I opened my mouth to tell him that I’d get him. In the end, I’d get him, which was all I wanted. But he cut me off, and all those emotions he was wavering between moments ago had settled until only one remained. And unfortunately for my heart, that was anger. “You get to talk yourself out of this whole thing? Come up with new reasons why we shouldn’t be together?”
“What?” I asked in a hoarse whisper. “No, of course not, I—”
“How the hell could you think I’d go back to that bullshit?” He stumbled forward as he pointed to the door he recently came through. He stared as I started to fidget under his gaze.
“Dude, are you drunk?” Derek asked incredulously.
Gabe ignored him as he continued, “You think I’m just going to leave you?” His eyes were blazing and his jaw clenched so tight I thought it might crack. “Is that what you want?”
“W-what?”
“Derek, maybe you should take Gabe—”
Naomi was cut off as Gabe continued yet again. “You’ve just been waiting for a reason to cut me loose, haven’t you? So tell me, how are you going to justify this? Is it going to come back to your depression like everything else?”
It felt like the air went out of the room.
“And you’ll pretend you’re okay even when you’re not. You’ll pretend all this was casual and you won’t admit how you feel as you walk out the fucking door, all on the off chance that you think you’re protecting me.” He shook his head and took a deep breath. “I can’t believe you think I’d walk away… after everything, you still believe this is temporary. Miranda was right. You don’t trust me at all, do you?” He saw Miranda too? “I haven’t done a damn thing to make you think I’d go back. I haven’t done a single thing wrong!” he screamed, and he was so close that I could finally smell the alcohol we all knew was on his breath.
“But I have?” I asked more to myself than him. Had I? Were all those doubts normal? I didn’t know. But they were my normal. They had been with me for as long as I could remember, and I didn’t think they were going anywhere any time soon.
His expression softened slightly, but he still looked confused and his frustration was barely contained. “No, it’s just… I don’t know how this is supposed to work when you don’t want it to. When all you’re looking for is a way out. How the hell are we supposed to get anywhere if all you want to do is run?”
“I don’t want to run,” I said softly.
“Really?” His voice dripped with sarcasm and disbelief.
“Yes,” I hissed. “I’m sorry, that I got scared at first… you know that. But I’m trying. You know how much I’m trying.”
“Are you? Because it doesn’t seem like it right now, and…” He trailed off, looking a little more sober and more than a little torn. His anger had waned and confusion took its place. I knew then that wherever this conversation was headed would break my heart.
“And what?” I asked with a nod in his direction.
“Guys, seriously, it’s been a long few days. Maybe we should cool it,” Naomi said, reminding us that we still had company.
“No. I want to know. And what? Come on, you can tell me. Everyone’s always tiptoeing around me, right?” I said as I glanced between Naomi and Gabe. “Well I’m giving you permission to say whatever the hell you want.” My voice broke on the last word, and my mind was reeling at how quickly this conversation had turned against me.
“I hate feeling like I’m always doing something wrong! I’ve had enough of that for one lifetime. I know my mother dying wasn’t my fault, but that doesn’t change the frustration I felt at not being able to do a damn thing to help her. Then she died and I couldn’t seem to help my sister either. My father and Miranda get pissed that I no longer want to follow the plan they had for me, and I can’t seem to do a damn thing right for the people around me!” Gabe started raising his voice again, the anger seeping back in. “And what am I supposed to do now? I don’t even understand the goddamn problem. So how can I even try to fix it?”
“Fix what?”
“You. How am I supposed to fix you?” he asked, sounding exasperated and not at all guilty for basically calling me defective. Was that what this had been? A project? A challenge? Insecurities I had buried, albeit in a shallow grave, came crawling out.
“I don’t need fixing.” My eyes narrowed as I frantically tried to grab on to anger or hatred or pretty much any emotion other than the bone-deep heartache lingering beneath the surface.
He had walked to the window across the room, and with his head bent he grabbed the back of his neck. “If I couldn’t help my mother or my sister who had actual problems, how the hell am I going to be able to help you when there isn’t even anything wrong?” he asked softly, almost like he was talking to himself more than me. But it didn’t matter. I’d heard it. We’d all heard it.
And there was the real problem. All the fears I’d ever had, fears I thought he’d put to rest, came back to life. I thought back to the fair and how hopeful everything had seemed, but as with all perfect moments, they end. And this one ended when Gabe opened his mouth and revealed a painful truth that I had foolishly let everyone convince me didn’t exist. Everything in my mind was turning over at a rapid pace, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything but the large hole forming in my chest.
“Gabe…” Naomi’s soft voice trailed off as her water-filled eyes landed on me. I didn’t know what my face looked like, but it couldn’t have been good.
Gabe finally seemed to come out of his head, and when he whipped around and his eyes collided with mine, the shift in his expression made it clear that he had, at least partially, forgotten about his audience. As his eyes widened I could only imagine that he was replaying every word he had just said.
“No, no, no… I didn’t mean—” He started toward me like he was approaching a wounded animal, but he tripped halfway there and cursed before he landed on his knees.
“It’s okay. I’m fine.” I looked down at the floor. And just like that I was back at the beginning. Back to running. Back to hiding. Back to pretending. That realization, more than anything, felt like a blow to my stomach and was a trigger to the tears I was trying to hold back. I was so tired of pretending. Tired of feeling so alone and misunderstood. Only this time it was worse, because now I knew what it felt like not to hide or pretend or be alone.
“Alara.”
“All this crap with your father and Miranda never really mattered, did it?” I whispered, my voice breaking in the middle as I continued to stare at the ground.
“Alara…” he repeated, still on his knees in the middle of the living room.
“No,” I said resolutely as I stepped back and looked up. “You…” I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t even begin to explain how much it all hurt. Logically I understood that there was more to this and that he wasn’t really thinking about what he was saying. I knew that he didn’t say any of those things with the intention of hurting me. But that almost made everything worse. He said what he thought, without thinking of the consequences or what the people around him thought. He wasn’t worried about hurting my feelings, he was just telling the truth. And the truth was, he thought what everyone else had, that my pain was different, exaggerated and less important.
“I… I didn’t mean it like that,” he stuttered. “Please.” His panic was almost enough to make me believe him. Almost. But neither his words, nor his remorseful expression, did anything to shrink the hole in my chest or stop the tears slowly streaming down my face. But I had to pretend they did, because I couldn’t stand there a minute more. I was already feeling too much.
“It’s okay that you feel that way,” I replied numbly. “But you—you made me believe it was okay,” I said, uncaring that I was finally voicing all my fears. “I always felt guilty for being as sad as I was. There was never any trauma in my life. I have a loving and supportive family. Great friends. I—I couldn’t explain it. But I learned to live with it, as hard as it was. I learned to ignore it or just suffer through it, never really believing anything I was telling myself. But you… you finally got through.” I looked around to see to my friends looking at me like a wounded puppy before refocusing on Gabe. “You made me feel important and… understood. No one had ever made me feel that way before. But you don’t understand, do you? So, why did you even b-bother? Why go through so much when you never believed any of it?”
He shook his head before getting to his feet and taking an unsteady step forward. “I didn’t—”
“I was always worried you would hate me once you found out,” I continued, taking a step back to counter his move. “That you would think about how much your Mom suffered and how much you and your sister suffered when your mother died, and you’d be disgusted by how I could want to die when others like her were taken so prematurely.” I paused and watched his eyes frantically dart between mine. Maybe someday I would understand or forgive him. But right now I couldn’t, because the only thing I had was my pain, a kind of pain that overshadowed everything else. And right now I had to tell him the truth, even if it would break him too.
“I never thought I’d be the one hating you.” He looked like I’d struck him as he staggered backwards for reasons that had nothing to do with alcohol. “I didn’t know what it was like to feel so whole, to feel forgiven for this disease that I don’t understand and can’t control. You gave me that. Things weren’t perfect, but I felt better than I ever had… and you just took that all away,” I said, gesturing to the gap between us. “And I think I kind of hate you for that.”
He closed his eyes as if he was in pain. “God, please don’t say—” Gabe tried again.
I shook my head and began retreating. “I’m s-sorry. I-I have to go,” I choked out, seconds away from completely losing my composure and crumbling. Honestly I was surprised I made it as long as I did. I had already given too much of myself to let them see any more. With one last look at his destroyed face that most likely mirrored my own, I grabbed my bag and fled.