Penny
History always has a way of repeating itself, if you give it enough time, but ten months … too soon.
I escaped from an unhealthy relationship, to move in with a woman who gave me new meaning to life. A life I respected, earned. Only to waste it by moving back in with the same man I left.
I’m not sure if anyone can truly comprehend what I’m going through. The failure I feel at this very moment.
The shame.
The guilt.
If I’m going to be honest, the pain … it’s my only truth. Everything else was a lie. Thinking things could be any different … a fantasy.
This.
Is.
What.
I.
Know.
My scars run deep. I’m a warrior of the wounded, wearing my battle scars on my soul. There is no getting over this.
Now, I’m sitting in Shapiro’s SUV behind the club, while he talks to one of the employees out back.
I’m back in the same place I was almost a year ago. This time I have nowhere to go. Nina just got engaged, Niki has a life, and Mama Ang …
I can’t even think about her without feeling the pang of guilt in my chest. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for not being there. If I would have stayed, would she have lived? Could I have saved her?
No, but she could have saved you.
A light tap on the window distracts me from myself.
Slowly turning my head, my eyes heavy with sleep, I blink once to see Shapiro standing there.
“You coming?”
Shaking my head, I ignore his request.
“You’re coming.” He opens the door, his voice louder without the barrier. “You need to get some rest.”
“Please.” I hold up my hand asking him to just leave me. “I don’t belong here. I don’t belong anywhere.”
“You belonged …” He pauses, stopping himself from saying what he wanted. Turning around he runs a hand through his dark mane which is a little longer since the last time I saw him.
“Just say it. You blame me.” I grab the blanket and step out of the vehicle.
“I don’t blame you.” Shapiro spins around. “I’m battling my own demons here while I’m trying to keep you safe. So, forgive me for not finding the right words.
“You should blame me. I did this.” Tears begin to sting my eyes. “I lied to her. I lied to everyone. I lied to myself.” I confess the secret I’ve been hiding in and the weight of it being lifted only brings more pain.
“What do you mean?” He reaches for my arm.
“Don’t touch me!” I scream.
“Whoa …” Shapiro holds his hands up in surrender. “I was just going to use the blanket to wipe your eyes.”
“Oh God!”
Everything is becoming too much. The blood pounds in my ears. My heart thudding in my chest.
“Pen …” Shapiro’s voice begins to fade.
Hands shaking.
Vision blurs.
I have to get away, but my legs are tingling. I can’t move, but I can’t stay here. Being back here, living this again.
I can’t do it.
I’m stranded in my own mind. No one can see me. No one is stopping me. A hostage of my own thoughts.
I can’t breathe.
Just make it stop.
Muffled voices surround me, arms lifting.
“Here.” I hear someone say while taking my hand, placing it over something hard, warm. “Feel the beat. Follow the rhythm.”
I’m trying.
“Breath … In. Out,” Shapiro whispers in my ear. “That’s right, Penny. In. Out. Follow the beat. We’re almost there.”
“Hey, man, you need some help?” someone calls out.
“Yeah. Can you get the door?” Shapiro’s voice still soft. Almost soothing.
“Sure thing, man. She okay?”
“Yeah. She’s going to be okay.” I feel Shapiro’s breath against my cheek. “You are going to be okay,” he breathes. “You hear me?”
Opening my eyes. I catch his gaze locked on mine. Together we stay like that. Step by step our eyes stay connected in a silent understanding while he carries me up the stairs for what feels like forever.
“I-I …”
“Shhh,” he coos. “We’re here.” He shifts me in his arms. “Just a few more locks and we’re in.” He forces a smile. “Here we go.”
He quickly manages to unlock the door with me in his arms and ushers us in before barricading it closed just as fast.
“I’m giving you the bed.” He walks us through the apartment.
“I can’t. I’ve already taken so much.” I turn my face, avoiding his reaction.
Knowing I’m right and him saying it with his eyes are two different things. This way is more tolerable.
“Penny, you were just released from the hospital.” He lays me carefully on the bed, my hand falling from the inside of his shirt. “Oh, um …” My face turns a shade of red, knowing that the rhythm I felt was from my skin on his, hand over his heart, I captured his beat and made it my own.
“It’s fine.” He pulls down the comforter. Acting as if what he did meant nothing. “Lift,” he demands.
Pushing back the storm of emotions that threaten to fall. I do as he says, letting him tuck me in.
“How about you get some rest. I think after everything the past few days, sleep will do you some good.” He begins to back out of the room. “I set the alarm, so we don’t forget your pain pill.”
How do you ask someone you barely know, yet feel so close to, not to leave?
“Shapiro, I can’t do this.”
“You can, and you will.” He stops, hand on the handle, as he begins to pull it shut. “I’ll be right out here if you need …”
“I need you.” I pull down the covers beside me. “I’m drowning, falling so far under I can’t breathe. I just want to come up for air.”
“Penny, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Please, Shapiro. Just for one night.”
There is no excuse for what I’m doing. I’m using the man who I caused pain, just to relieve mine.
Taking a few steps, he stops. “Nothing.” His voice stern. “And I mean nothing is going to happen.”
“I have no one. I don’t have a family. No one to lean on to make this better.” My tears silently fall. “She was my home and you are the closest thing I will ever have to her again.” My body begins to shake with sobs. “I miss her.”
Understanding, he climbs in bed next to me. Lying on his back, hands on his chest. He turns his head in my direction.
“I miss her too.”
Scooting closer to him. The need to be close to someone who understands overpowers the reality of our situation.
“What are you doing?” He doesn’t move.
Reaching for his arm, I tuck my back to his front, as I roll over. His body stiffens.
“Hold me … please.” I pull his arm around me. Feeling more secure than I have ever felt.
Minutes pass by before he finally relaxes into me.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” he whispers his confession against the back of my head.
Pulling me in closer I give him the comfort he needs. I can’t give him much, but if this is it, if this is how I can repay him for what I’ve done, then use me.
“We didn’t get to talk much after I left, but when I did, she always talked about you.” I smile at the memory.
“She did?” Shapiro’s voice curious.
Rolling over in his arms, I feel comfort in giving him the words he desperately needs to hear. “Yeah. I heard a bunch of Frances stories.” I give him a genuine smile. “You were one ornery kid. You know that?”
Shapiro’s voice vibrates through us. “Yeah, I gave her all kinds of hell, but when I was staying with her, it was the good kind of trouble. Back home, not so much …” Shapiro seems lost in thought.
I’m not sure how long we stay like this, but the longer we lie here the quieter it becomes. Silence surrounds us, but the voices scream the truth so loud in my head, I’m afraid he will hear.
The walls start to close in, the blanket heavy, his body warm. My confession being pulled from me.
“I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for leaving the way I did.”
There. I said it.
“You were trying to start your life over. No one is faulting you for that.” Shapiro tries to reassure me. Bringing his hand up between us, he tucks a stray hair behind my ear before he continues, “Plus, you had no way of knowing lightning was going to strike twice.”
Lies.
I’ll never be free until the lies are set free.
“I did.” I close my eyes. “I mean I didn’t, but I told her …”
“What are you trying to say, Penny?” My eyes dart open as Shapiro pushes up on one arm, looking down at me. “That you knew he was capable of hurting you?”
“Not exactly.”
“What the fuck does that mean? Why didn’t you tell Mama Ang? She could have helped you.” Shapiro sits up, scooting his back to the headboard, he rubs his hands over his face before he glances over at me. “I would have helped you.”
“It’s not that simple. When Tyler came back. He had gone through extensive counseling and …”
“Hold up.” Shapiro raises his hand. “Did I just hear you right?” He lowers his head, thinking about what I just said.
I could stop him right here. Beg for him to listen, but what’s the point? Everything he is about to say is the truth. I was just too naïve to see it.
“You got back with the same bastard that you were hiding from? The same asshole that abused you?” Shapiro jumps out of bed.
“You left him, and she let you in.” He begins to pace. “Did you tell her? Did she know?” He only pauses enough for me to give him one answer. The answer he already knows.
“No.”
“You lied? You told her you were with someone else? Help me to understand, Penny, because I’m not following.”
“He came back—” I begin, but he quickly cuts me off.
“You did this. You did all this.” Shapiro’s hands are waving everywhere before they land on his knees. His breathing heavy and out of control. “She told me you had met someone. I-I stopped calling. I couldn’t …”
“Shapiro,” I plead.
“Don’t you dare.” He lifts his head. “You did this.” He stands up straight and heads for the door before he turns around. “You are the reason I wasn’t there. You are the reason … You. You left her alone and now I’m alone.” He walks out of the room, pulling the handle, slamming the door on his way out. Except nothing echoes. The padding on the walls absorbs the sound. Just like my soul absorbs the hate.
“I’m alone, too,” I whisper as I fall back onto the bed. Curling into myself. Hiding who I have become.
I could run out there and try to explain, but there’s no use. How can I tell my truths if I already made them believe my lies?
Shapiro’s right. I caused this and there is only one way to fix it.
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