Emma

He found me.

It doesn’t matter what I do. I can’t hide. I’ll never be free.

I can’t just sit here paralyzed by fear. I need to get Alex out of here. There’s no guarantee Bastain isn’t sitting across the street right now, waiting, watching. Alex didn’t ask for any of this. Bastain won’t stop until there’s a fight, and he doesn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire.

“You need to go,” I urge him. He doesn’t budge.

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” he argues.

Everything I’ve learned about this man so far tells me he’s not bluffing. “Fine. But we leave now.”

He stands as I stand, waiting for me to lead the way, watching as I move to the door. “Aren’t you going to get your things?”

“I don’t have things anymore.”

Alex keeps a firm grip on my hand as we head out the rear entrance and down an adjacent street until we reach the gym. “Get in,” he orders when we get to his SUV. I’m not equipped, physically or mentally, to argue with him. I have a feeling it wouldn’t do much good even if I did.

“Where are we going?” Not that it matters. For the third time in six weeks, I’m trusting him with my safety.

“My flat,” he answers, not asking if I’m okay with it, not concerned with what we’re running from. He’s just… calm, controlled.

Without leaving the neighborhood, he pulls into a parking garage, turning into spot number 78 on level C, then kills the engine. Alex faces me, lowering his chin but keeping his eyes focused on mine. “If I’m going to help you, love, you’re going to have to let me in,” he whispers low in his throat.

“If I do, there’s no going back- for either of us. Are you ready for that?”

“I’ve been ready since the first moment I saw you in that coffee shop.”

His response both terrifies me and soothes me at the same time. I hope he means it. He wants the truth, no matter how ugly it might get. Well, the truth is, sometimes people make mistakes- decisions that change lives. And the cold, harsh reality of it is we have to live with that. The price is high, and the debt is ours to pay. Am I ready for this? Can I let him in, really let him in? I suppose the real question is, will he leave when he finds out who I really am, what I’ve done. I find myself lost in the depths of kindness in his eyes and know that’s a chance I’m willing to take.

I knew Alex’s home would be nice, but this is unexpectedly crisp and meticulously clean. A deep red leather sectional stands out against soft gray hardwood floors and white walls adorned with black and white prints of different landmarks across the world. I wonder if these are places he’s traveled, mementos he brings back with him to keep his memories close. He walks over to the wall of windows, pressing a button on a tiny remote. Black velvety fabric closes over the glass, leaving the lights of the city behind on the other side. He walks into the kitchen, calling out to me from behind the large island that separates that area from the living room.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll bring us a drink,” he says, popping the cork on a bottle of wine.

I take a deep breath and lean back into the soft leather of the sofa, relaxing in the coolness of the hide. Alex hands me a glass as he takes his seat next to me. His thigh brushes mine, quickening my pulse. As if I weren’t nervous enough about telling him the truth, now I have to try to control my hormones too. I let the wine soak into my bloodstream before I start. Alex is so patient, asking if I need another glass when I finish the first. I set the empty glass on the dark wood coffee table then brace myself.

I figure I might as well start at the beginning. I haven’t talked about that night since my first visit with Dr. Owen. That’s been almost two years ago. I don’t know how far I’ll get before I can’t go anymore, but I’m willing to try. And that’s a pretty good first step. I swallow hard then turn to face him, tucking one leg under my butt.

“I want you to know it’s okay if this changes how you feel about letting me stay here,” I tell him. After all, a man I believed loved me, turned on me- wants to harm me- because of what I’ve done. I can’t expect someone I hardly know to understand.

“Emma…” he starts, but I interrupt, placing a finger over his lips.

“I need to do this while I have the nerve. If you go and say something sweet and endearing, I’ll probably chicken out and just want to kiss you again instead.” He smiles beneath my fingertip. “Okay, then. Here goes…” I move my hand from his mouth, holding it in my lap, allowing me to nervously toy with my fingernails. “Bastain… that’s his name… he hasn’t always been the way he is now. We went to college together. We hung out almost every weekend. We used to be close.” Alex huffs, unimpressed, but I continue. “I made him this way. I did this to him.”

“Emma…”

“Alex, please.” I need to do this. The gates have been opened and I need to set these demons free, as much for myself as for him. The original anxiety of the moment is dissipating, replaced with an overwhelming desire to cleanse. I haven’t said any of this out loud in years. It’s been a storm brewing inside my soul, growing darker and darker. It’s time to let it go. It’s time to let the sun shine through. “I killed his brother.” I killed Bronson.

The words tumble from my lips before I can stop them. My vision is blurred by the water in my eyes. Alex doesn’t move. I don’t know what I expected. I guess I thought he’d jump off the sofa, speed dialing 911 with a look of horror on his face. He doesn’t do any of that. He just watches in awe as I blink back tears and find the strength to keep going.

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was raining. And dark.” My memory immediately transports my mind back to that night, bringing back the visions as if I were living them again for the first time. “I was driving. There was road construction.” I squint my eyes, the same way I did then, fighting to focus. “I couldn’t see. It was raining so hard.” My voice becomes more frantic as the visions become clearer. “There was a concrete wall. The kind they have sometimes on interstates. I wasn’t going that fast…” I can’t do this. I can’t relive it like this, in front of him. He sets his wine glass on the table then places his hand on mine, letting me know he’s still here. He’s still with me. And I can do this. I can keep going.

I stop fidgeting with my nails and lock my fingers with his. “There was an eighteen-wheeler. It kept spewing rain from the road onto my windshield. I couldn’t see. So, I tried to pass him. I had to get away from the spray.” Even now, I will slow down to a near crawl before I pass a big rig on the highway. And I never drive in the rain. “I didn’t see the other car in the left lane. I had to slam on my brakes.” Alex squeezes my hand, knowing what comes next. “The car slid. We hit the concrete barrier.”

“You don’t have to do this, love,” he says, the pain in his eyes reflected in his voice.

I nod my head, “Yes, I do. I need this.” Rather than blinking back the tears this time, I let them fall. I let them cleanse. He gives a single nod of agreement, then brings his thumb to my cheek, wiping away the evidence of my sadness. “Bronson was in the passenger seat. Bastain was in the back. Bronson wasn’t wearing his seat belt. His body…” My eyes force themselves closed, trying to shut out the memory. But, there’s nothing that could erase that moment. It’s embedded in my brain. It haunts me. Every. Single. Day. “He flew through the windshield. I couldn’t stop him. I tried. But I just couldn’t stop him.” I remember hearing myself scream, thinking it was coming from someone else. I remember reaching across the car and grabbing for his shirt but not being able to find it. I remember flinching as shards of glass sliced my arms and face. Then everything went black.

Alex closes his eyes. Maybe he’s trying to block out the vision, too. I don’t blame him. I’d give anything to be able to unsee it. “You didn’t kill anyone, Emma. It was an accident. You have to forgive yourself.”

I can’t. A man is dead because of me. And I know now that Bastain hasn’t forgiven me either.

I pull my hand away from his long enough to wipe my eyes. Then I readjust myself for the rest of my confession. “There’s more.” Alex wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me against his chest, giving me the strength to continue. “After the accident, Bastain and I got really close. I guess you could say we found comfort in each other because we were both there. We both lived with the memories.” Bastain would spend hours consoling me then hold me when I fell asleep crying. He would wrap me in his arms when I would wake up in a cold sweat from the nightmares. We never talked about it, but it was always there. After a while, we just became a couple. He seemed so strong then. Who knows… Maybe that was all an act too. “Bastain and Bronson’s parents had a hard time dealing with what happened.” This is when everything changed. This is the moment I stopped being taken care of and became the caretaker. This is when I started living my life making up for my mistake. “Bastain’s father committed suicide a month after Bronson died.” Because of something I did.

I feel Alex’s chest heave as he sucks in a deep breath. I don’t blame him if he asks me to leave. This is a lot to take in. Just saying it out loud is almost too much for me to bear. I can’t look up at him. I don’t think I can handle what I’d find. So, I stay here, staring at the hot pink cotton of his polo and praying I haven’t lost him. “Oh, love. I’m so sorry.” He kisses the top of my head.

He’s sorry? For me? Why? Hasn’t he been listening to anything I’ve said? I pull my head from his chest and let my gaze meet his. There’s no judgement there. He’s not disgusted. His eyes are soft and kind… and gentle, the way they were the night he brought me to the back of his gym and bandaged my wounds. I don’t understand. He’s not angry. He isn’t blaming me. He doesn’t want me to leave.

“His mom had some kind of mental breakdown and was hospitalized for a long time. Bastain hasn’t spoken to her in years. He tries. She won’t have anything to do with him. I did that. He lost his entire family because of my carelessness.”

“Is that why you stay?” he asks, “Because you feel guilty?”

Yes. And it saddens me that it took me this long to figure that out.

“Not at first. At first things weren’t…” I still can’t admit I’m that woman. I let myself become what I swore I’d never be. For my own sanity, I have to believe that at one time Bastain was a good man. There’s no way I would have fallen in love with a monster. “He wasn’t always controlling, manipulative. He used to be sad and lost. There was a time when everything I did was to help him heal. I truly believed I could bring him happiness again, even if it meant sacrificing my own. I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

“You should never have to sacrifice your happiness for someone else’s.” I know that now. “How many times has he hit you?”

I knew he didn’t buy the glass door story. He’s never mentioned it or called me out, but I knew he saw the truth. But he’s got the wrong idea. Bastain isn’t abusive. Not physically anyway. He may have been manipulating my emotions for years, but until Santana’s party, he’s never laid a finger on me. “It’s not what you think.”

“No?” There’s a bite in his tone. “Because I remember quite vividly you showing up at my gym…”

“I know what you remember. That was the first time. And there hasn’t been anything since.”

I don’t mean to snap at him. My nerves are going haywire from the roller coaster ride I’m taking them on. The look in his eye tells me he doesn’t believe me.

“Then what are we running from?”

Ouch. I guess the days of beating around the bush are a thing of the past. I didn’t want to have to bring up Gatsby or what happened earlier today with Bastain, but I’m sitting on his sofa leading him into the darkest depths of my soul. I can afford to tell him the truth about why I’m here.

“He’s changed. He’s never scared me before. But something happened today. I can’t go back there, Alex. He’s dangerous.”

Alex scoots to the edge of the sofa, like he’s gearing his body to stand up. “Did he hurt you?”

I shove the memory of Gatsby lying in a blanket, buried in the woods, to a place in my heart where I can keep it locked up tight until I’m ready to deal with it. My heart can’t take any more pain. Not tonight. “Not physically, no.”

“Emma, I need you to talk to me. What did he do?”

“I had a dog… Gatsby…” I choke on my words, working to find the courage to tell him what happened. The way he’s looking at me is so sincere, like he genuinely cares. I haven’t had anyone look at me like that in a long time. It makes it easier. “Bastain…” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Alex’s palm slides tentatively over the side of my cheek, his thumb whispering trails across my skin as he cradles my face.

“Ssshhh… It’s okay. You don’t have to finish. I can guess the rest.”

Oh, thank God. Even the strongest people have their breaking point, and I’m about to reach mine. “He said he wanted me to know what loss feels like. He told me I took everything from him, and he’s right. I did. So, you see, he might be a monster now. But he was once a human being, a kind, gentle human being. I did this. I stole his soul and made him the man he is. So, I have no right to hate him. I created him.”