BACK TO THE REAL WORLD
Reality continues to ruin my life.
~ Anonymous
Willow
“DID YOU HEAR what I said?” Hazel drops a bunch of packages on my desk. It’s Monday morning after a week from hell.
Transferring the call I just answered to Bruno, the investment director, I lift my gaze and cross my arms, giving her my undivided attention.
“Next time, wait until I’m off the phone to talk to me,” I snap back at her. Who does she think she is?
Her nostrils flare, her lips twist, and several seconds pass before she speaks, “I’m fed up with you. We had an agreement. I help you while you get your shit together. You left me hanging last week. You can’t miss an entire week of work, Willow. This might be temporary for you, but for us it’s a business.”
“I’m having trouble dealing with . . .” I huff. “You wouldn’t understand.”
The phone rings again, the doors of the elevator open, and I take the opportunity to calm my emotions. Last night I promised Hunter to count to ten, or twenty, when I feel like my anger is taking over. I should communicate with him when I’m feeling insecure about us—remember we are a team.
But how can I do it when everything inside me is shaking and I feel like I’m about to explode? Hazel giving me a lecture on work ethics after the week of hell I had makes my blood boil. Does she care about me at all? I thought she was my person.
“You and me, Wills,” she tells me when I’m asphyxiating and I can’t find a way to continue.
“May I remind you that you said, ‘take time off’?” I recall what she said last week.
“I meant a day not an entire week. You could at least have told me that you didn’t plan to work all week,” she protests. “Your insurance kicked in last week. Can you please go see a doctor?”
She not only suggests I go to see a doctor, but my little sister also throws numerous business cards on top of the glass. Well, not throw, she places each one down separately for me to view. One has chicken scratch scribbles covering it.
“You can’t checkout from reality this often and for so long, Willow.” She swallows hard. “It’s not normal. I have bad days, too. Some when I want to stay in hiding with my pillow and a book. But you just don’t leave your bed at all. That’s concerning.”
“Well, little sister, I don’t see your degree in psychiatry to make that kind of call.” I cross my arms, leaning forward. “Do you think it’s easy for me, Hazel?”
It’s exhausting to handle rapidly changing emotions. My credit sucks because I can’t keep a steady acting job to pay off my credit cards or any other bill on time. Most of the roles I have had in the past finish too soon or are minor and the pay sucks. Why does she care? Hazel has everything. The love of our grandfather, friends, a job she enjoys. She is smart enough to have a degree. For fuck’s sake, she’s even getting a master’s degree. I didn’t finish college because I’m useless. Maybe if I had finished, I would’ve gotten a better job. That’s my father’s fault. He stopped paying for my education claiming he didn’t have money for it. Everyone in my life has abandoned me.
This is why I avoid asking for help. She’s becoming my grandfather. “Do as I say, or I won’t give you a hand!” If only I had my mother. Would she understand what I’m going through with these two? I wish I could find something in common with her. Then, I want to yell at her for leaving me.
“No. You’re not understanding what I’m trying to say, Willow. I’m here offering to help you because it’s hard.” She grasps the edge of the desk, looking down at me. “Nothing will change unless you start working on it. You have to help yourself. Ask for help. Advocate for yourself. I don’t know what’s going on with you because you don’t share.”
“Why would I share?” I raise my voice, springing from my seat. “Do you ever share what’s going on with you?”
She steps back, her mouth opens slightly, those light brown eyes go wide. “I try my best. But we spend so little time together. I’d rather enjoy an hour chatting about fun stuff, learning what’s up with you.”
“You trust everyone else, but me.” She shakes her head but I continue before she makes her case. “Fitz knows more about your ex than I do. It’s been two years, and I barely know what happened. Why couldn’t you work it out? Either you don’t trust me, or you think I’m not worth telling shit to.”
“It goes both ways!”
“What do you mean?”
“You use me as your last resort. Don’t you think I’ve noticed that you’d rather starve than ask me for help.” She huffs, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m waiting for you to up and leave me hanging, like you have done in the past couple of years.”
Her words catch me off guard—they’re a bucket full of ice. A reality check and mostly a reminder of how my life sucks. Doesn’t she understand I’ve failed her? “I’m supposed to take care of you.” My voice echoes, making me jolt.
“No. I’m not a little girl anymore. For the last time, I’m old enough to hold a job, drive, and drink. Old enough to be taken seriously by you.” She points at me.
The conversation has shifted into unknown territory. My heart beats fast because I’ve never seen this side of my sister—ever.
“I promise not to skip work. Can we be done with this conversation?” I simulate indignation, hiding the astonishment.
“No. You want to know my shit. I’m recovering from the depression caused by my separation from the man I thought was the love of my life. Through therapy, I’ve discovered that my issue wasn’t my ex, but my parents’ abandonment and needing validation from outsiders.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “Is it all in my head? He fucked up, but I’m to blame, too.”
Closing her eyes briefly, she lowers her voice. “So here I am, working out the self-doubts. I have so many insecurities, and most are the product of my strange childhood. While of course, I try to grow up. Deal with my sister who still sees me as a two-year-old, and be the woman I would like to become.” Then she laughs as I’m speechless with what she just dumped. I never thought Hazel was insecure. She’s always poised, laughing, and being so positive. “Would you like to know more? Of course not, because my sister doesn’t like to discuss our parents, our childhood, or therapists.”
Her words get under my skin. “What are you insinuating?”
“Nothing. I’m telling you how things are. You’re the most caring, wonderful, loving sister I know. You sacrificed most of your childhood to be what you didn’t have, a mother. Except when it comes to things that affect you, too. Then you . . .” She shrugs one shoulder. “Detach and try to change the conversation. Why would I try to bring up something that will damage our relationship?”
This is the point where it’s too much. She’s not saying this out of spite or to hurt me, but it is hurting me nonetheless. The energy I accumulated from the past two days is beginning to fade—fast. Another disappointment.
“I love you, Wills. It angers me not knowing how to help you. One moment there’s a spark in your eyes, and the next you can barely move. This crappy life is hard enough, why not lean on me when you’re down? It doesn’t make you weak.”
Turning to the desk, I pile the cards. Telling her I’ll try my best will make her happy. “I’ll do it.”
“What if I propose going to visit our parents?”
“Are you insane?” I see red, and my voice sounds screechy. Why would I visit them?
“No. I’m looking for answers and a relationship with them. Gramps and our father barely speak to each other. I don’t want to be sixty and estranged from our parents. I love them.”
“Girls,” Gramps calls us from the creepy intercom. “The entire office has learned our family history. I recommend next time you take this discussion somewhere else.”
“Sorry,” we both apologize.
“Willow, can you come to my office for a minute.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, turning around and ignoring my sister. I’ve had enough of her. My own sister plans on changing who I am.
“This won’t be over until you take a step in the right direction. This job is temporary, Willow. You can have it for as long as you want, but remember what makes you happy. Acting.” Hazel doesn’t follow me. She walks to the elevator, calling it. “I’ll be back on Thursday. Call me if you need me.”
For the first time since my parents brought her home, I feel like she doesn’t belong to me. What now? If only we could get past this barrier. Wait, I didn’t know we had a barrier. What is happening between us? Why am I losing her, too? I can’t lose her. She’s the only one keeping me standing. The weight of the revelation brings me down for a few moments. The memory of Hunter’s breath caressing me and his musky scent while we slept remind me that I have him.
After work, Hunter invites me to dinner. I hate to rehash what happened with Hazel, but I need to talk it through with someone.
“She left, reminding me that acting is what makes me happy,” I say, staring at the glass of water in front of me.
“She didn’t even mention my birthday,” I protest.
“Wait, when is your birthday?”
“Wednesday.”
He flinches. “Okay, I have a full schedule tomorrow and most of the day on Wednesday.”
“It’s okay,” I say, deflated. My shoulders slump, and my chin almost hits my chest. Grandfather has told me earlier that he is going out of town tomorrow—with Fitzhenry.
“Can you trust me?”
I purse my lips, thinking about his question. Trust is hard to give. We know each other better but trusting him? “With what?”
He wraps his fingers around mine, those blue eyes darkening. “With everything, Willow. I want to make sure you’re happy, always.” Moving closer to me he whispers, “How about I show you in bed?” Hunter beams, lifting an eyebrow as he waits for my answer. “My brothers won’t be home.”
“Why do you still live at home?”
“Are you judging me?”
“I don’t have room to do that. It’s out of curiosity. The four of you still live at home.”
He smiles. “It’s a bachelor pad. Maybe soon I’ll be upgrading and moving out. They can keep their single life. It’s not for me.”
Hunter
You know when you have the best week of your life and you think, this is it, life is going to be this happy from now on? Well, that’s a fucking lie. I stare at my monitor, rehashing the time I spent with Willow. Especially, the forty-eight hours I’ve devoted to the love of my life. I’ll rephrase. The first few days had been purgatory, the weekend heaven, and if I’m not careful, the next couple of days might be another visit to the bowels of hell.
The handle of my door wiggles. Scott, who doesn’t believe in knocking on my door, steps inside.
“I’m busy,” I say, working on keeping my tone even. “Get the fuck out of here” has a side effect with him. In his head, he hears “let’s have a throw down.”
He holds a bunch of papers. Exhaling loudly, he takes a seat in front of me, handing me the documents.
“Harrison’s theory is that you’re buying a house. My guess is you’re producing a play. What is it?”
Confused by his words, I look at the papers. “What happened to ‘this money is for you to do whatever the fuck you want to do with it’?”
Scott snorts. “I recall saying ‘use this wisely.’” Leaning back in his chair, he crosses his arms and shoots me a challenging glare. “So, wise man, what did you do with six million dollars?”
Taking the papers, I rotate slightly, bend to the left, and feed them to the shredder. “It’s none of your fucking business, Scott.”
He lifts his chin, his eyes staring at the ceiling, while his fingers tap his Adam’s apple. Oh great, the fucking asshole is taking calming breaths to deal with his anger.
“If you don’t mind. I have a full schedule and work out the wazoo.” I raise from my seat and open the door. “Your offices are on the floor above. Have a good day.”
“You went from paying for fancy clothes to spending millions on what?” He stands up, sauntering toward me. His eyes are a mixture of worry and anger. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Living, Scott. That thing I’ve tried to avoid since I was twelve. She makes me feel alive.”
“Living? You’re wasting your life on someone who isn’t stable, Hunter.” He scrubs his face, sighing deeply. “It was easier to deal with your shit when you were inside your room. Stop pretending to be normal. We’re too fucked up to live like the average Joe. Accept your life.”
I take a step back, feeling the punch of his words. Accept your life. “What life is that, Scott?”
“Do you know how many women take advantage of rich, orphaned guys?” He wiggles his fingers several times. “Too many to count. Some pretend to love you, others try to get knocked up, and the rest just fuck with your head. I’m trying my best to protect you.”
“This is Hazel’s sister you are talking about. She’s nothing like the bitches you deal with all the time. Instead of judging my girlfriend, why don’t you start judging your fucked-up behavior?”
“Have you ever wondered why Willow was never around Hazel? She came back into her life when she needed money.” He rubs the tips of his hand together. “Once she’s back on her feet, she’ll jet off and leave everyone behind. You included.”
“You haven’t given her a chance.”
“The question is why are you so obsessed with relationships?” His tone isn’t just curious, it sounds like some sort of accusation. “At least look for someone who won’t take advantage of you.”
“I can take care of myself. If you haven’t noticed, I’m not twelve anymore.”
“Then behave like an adult, and I’ll treat you like one.”
“How about being fucking supportive instead of judgmental?”
“You have my support. I’ll be in my office waiting to catch you when you fall apart. It appears that’s the only time you come to me.”
Keep waiting, Scotty.
She needs me as much as I need her. We are essential to each other. She’ll never leave me.
I check my watch, walk to my desk and grab the instructions I have for Fitz’s assistant. She has to help me with Willow’s birthday surprises. That’s the only way to make it special while I’m working. “If that’s all, Scott. I have work to do. Go and wait for me to fail.”
“Hunt,” he calls out to me, but I flip him the finger and continue to walk away.