Zelda
January 1
I couldn’t sleep.
My body had never felt so satiated and heavy and warm in my life, but my mind wouldn’t shut down. Worry for Darlene kept floating to the top, mingled with the guilt that her night had been the polar opposite of mine.
I lifted my head from where it rested in the crook of Beckett’s shoulder. Warmth permeated the bed, our skin, the space between us. He slept deeply, his handsome face unmarred by worry or pain. I started to smile and noticed a scarred pattern burned onto his left bicep—a crude circle with an X over it. A souvenir from prison, I guessed.
“My felon,” I whispered, marveling again at how I always felt safe with him. But now that I was naked in his bed, I felt it even more acutely.
I’ve never had this before.
I never will again.
With the handful of guys I’d been with, sex had been a matter of course. I hung around a guy long enough to feel we should start doing it, and we eventually did. And every time, I hoped for a fraction of what I felt now with Beckett.
I had no idea sex could be like this. I never knew I could feel cherished and wanted at the same time. That sex could be rough and raw and yet also sublime. Beckett’s lust and want were vibrant splashes of the most brilliant color, while the gentle intensity in his eyes revealed what was in his heart—written in solid ink across mine, and indelible.
Afterward, Beckett had held me as if he’d never let me go. He’d kissed me until his own weariness took him to sleep. Yet still he held me.
I laid my head back down, trying to find sleep again. No luck. I lay awake another hour or so, until Beckett stirred, woke, and gently extracted himself to use the bathroom.
The door clicked shut behind him. Seeing the coast was clear, my old defenses crept out of hiding. Did Beckett need to get away from me? Did he need space? Was he feeling pressured to come back and cuddle, which so many guys, in my experience, hated?
The bathroom door opened. Beckett climbed back into bed. He pulled me to him, wrapped me in his arms so my face was nestled against the crook of his neck. In ten seconds, my senses were suffused with him. The warm, clean smell of his skin, overlaid with a faint salty tinge of sweat. The sweetness of his breath wafted over my cheek.
It was then I stopped playing coy with my feelings. Stopped letting the ridiculous walls rise up and surround me every time I felt the slightest bit vulnerable.
Instead I wrapped my arms around him and held on. I hooked my leg around his hip so we were entwined like vines. Somehow, I felt him smile.
“You’ll come with me this morning to the hospital?” he whispered.
“Of course. I love her.”
His hand ran the length of my hair. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here,” he said. “For coming with me. For standing by my side while I face something ugly and hard. I know she’s your friend too, but I’ve done this before and it never gets easier.”
“I’ll be there.” I burrowed my forehead against his collarbone, slipped my hand into his and squeezed. “From now on, I’ll be there.”
When we arrived at New York-Presbyterian Hospital the next morning, Darlene’s family was there. Her mother and sister had the same brown big hair, lots of makeup, and big jewelry. Her father was a solid-looking man with intense gray eyes. While the women stood together and talked, I noticed he sat apart from it, his hands clasped in his lap, his lips pursed.
Heidi, Wes and Nigel came out of Darlene’s room together.
“How is she?” Beckett asked.
“Not good,” Wes said. “She’s physically okay, but her parole officer was here first thing in the morning. He’s going to recommend a probation extension and rehab to the judge, but I didn’t get the feeling he was going to talk anyone out of more jail time if it came down to it.”
Beckett rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Shit.”
“Yeah, she’s taking it pretty hard,” Nigel said. “And no sign of that arsehole, Kyle.”
Beckett and I went into Darlene’s room. She looked pale against the hospital sheets, and her right arm was punctured with needles and tubes that fed her from a clear plastic bag hanging over the bed.
She stared out the window and didn’t look at us when we came in.
“Hey,” Beckett said softly, moving to sit next to her on one side of the bed. She shook her head, as if it hurt to look at him.
I went around to the other and put my arms around her gently. She broke then clung to me weakly, her tears dampening my shoulder.
“I keep doing this to myself,” she cried. “I keep fucking up my own life.”
“It’ll be okay, Dar,” I said, perching on the edge of the mattress and letting her lean on me.
“It will?” Darlene said wiping her eyes. “I just don’t know how else to cope, you know? When Kyle left, I felt the big emptiness come back and I had to fill it with something.”
“You just described every single person on this planet,” I said. “We all have to fill the voids with something.” I brushed a lock of hair from her face. “You just happened to pick a highly addictive illegal substance.”
Darlene sniffed a laugh and glanced over at Beckett for the first time. Her face fell and her eyes filled with tears again. “Oh, Becks,” she said, reaching for his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Beckett said.
“No, I know but you’ve always been so good and so strong.”
“I haven’t,” he said. “I’ve just been going through the motions. I may not have been doing drugs but I kept myself numb just the same.” Beckett’s eyes found mine across the bed. “Until recently. If you risk nothing, you have nothing. You are brave, Darlene. Never forget that.”
Darlene cried a little more and then wiped her eyes. Her friends and family came and went, as the visiting hours drew to a close. The nurse came to kick everyone out but I waited behind. I gave Beckett’s hand a squeeze and craned up to give him a kiss.
“I’ll be right out. Give me a minute.”
Darlene watched the exchange and a smile broke over her face, even as fresh tears filled her eyes. “You two…?”
I nodded and resumed my seat next to her bed.
“Oh my God, I’m so happy for you. For both of you. I’ve always hoped Becks could have something like this. It couldn’t have been me. Even if I wasn’t a hopeless drug addict.”
“You aren’t hopeless,” I said. “And you may be addicted to drugs but that isn’t all you are.”
“Try telling that to my parole officer,” Darlene said. “Or my dad. I disappoint him so badly. But how can I not? Look at me.” She indicated the hospital room and the tubes trailing out of her arm.
“I’ve looked at you, Darlene,” I said and pulled my bag onto my lap. “As an artist, it’s my job to observe the human condition, and since I am an artist of the highest caliber, the way I see the world is the absolute truth.”
A small smile found its way to Darlene’s mouth. “Oh, is that so?”
“One hundred percent,” I said, my voice wavering at the edges. I pulled out a piece of paper from my bag and handed it to her. “This is you, Darlene.”
Darlene took the sketch I’d been working on, off and on, for weeks. She held it in both hands, as if it were something fragile. It was her on the subway, the day we went to shopping for Christmas lights. She laughed against her arm, her smile wide, her eyes bright and clear.
“Zel,” she whispered.
My throat threatened to close. “That’s you. Okay?”
Darlene nodded, wiped the tears off her cheeks and heaved a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I said, hugging her quickly, then busied myself with gathering my bag.
A knock at the door. It opened and a young blond man, tattoos creeping up his neck, poked his head in. He held a bouquet of pink roses.
Darlene’s eyes widened. “Kyle?”
“I know I’m late,” he said, stepping into the room. “The nurses are trying to kick me out but I had to come. Jesus, Darlene, are you okay? I didn’t know where you were.”
I rose to my feet and shouldered my bag. “I’ll leave you two…”
“No. Stay,” Darlene said, not taking her eyes off Kyle. “What are you doing here?”
His brows knit together. “I’m visiting you.”
“But we broke up,” Darlene said, her voice cracking.
“We did?” Kyle’s face was twisted with perplexity. “Babe, we had a fight. An argument. It happens sometimes, right?”
“But you walked out,” Darlene said. “I thought I wasn’t going to see you again.”
I backed away and Kyle took my seat. I wanted to give them this moment, but I didn’t entirely trust Kyle or his version of the story yet. Still, the concern on his face looked genuine. He took her hand in both of his, pressed her fingers to his lips. “I got frustrated, babe. I walked out to get some air, I told you that.”
Darlene looked away. “I know,” she said in a small voice. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard it, but… No one’s ever come back.”
Kyle inhaled raggedly and touched her face with his other hand. “I’m sorry, babe. I’m so sorry…”
I slipped out the door. Out in the hall, I leaned against Darlene’s hospital door and exhaled.
“Did you kick his ass?” Nigel asked. “He got past me, the slippery little weasel, before I had a chance.”
I laughed and wiped my eyes. “No, no ass kicking necessary. It’s all good.”
Beckett shot me a confused look as I moved to him and slipped my hand into his.
I smiled up at him. “I’ll explain when we get home.”