Love, Always (25 page)

Adam stands up, taking me with him, and gently steps out of the tub with me in his arms. He pushes his face into my neck before putting me back down on the floor. He wraps a towel around me before getting his own, and we take turns drying each other off, our eyes constantly on each other.

I follow Adam back to bed and snuggle on his chest as he strokes my back with his long fingers.

“Dad wasn’t the only one who died that night.” I look up at him from my position on his chest and kiss him lightly, encouraging him to go on. “I didn’t wake up until I was at the hospital, but I thought what had happened at the gas station was just a bad dream, so I kept asking the nurses for Mom. They kept giving me the run around, but one mentioned she was having trouble with the baby.” My heart constricts at his words, because I finally realize exactly what happened to Adam’s baby brother. “I thought she meant Mom was having the baby and Dad was with her. Mom didn’t come see me ‘til the next day, and I had snuck out of my room since then, but the nurses had caught me. Mom was bad when I saw her. She cried a lot when she told me Dad and Tommy, that was my brother’s name, had gone to Heaven. They died that night because of the decisions I made.”

I open my mouth to retaliate, but Adam raises his hands, effectively shutting me up.

“I know I didn’t kill them. I know the man with the gun did that. But my decisions made it happen. I have to live with that, live with knowing that my decisions killed my dad, brother and a part of my mom that only came back when Josh came into our lives. And then he died and, damnit, Dee, you gotta know I’d have done anything to save him for you, for my mom, for Josie.”

“I know that, Adam. But—”

“I’d do anything for you and Josie,” he says, desperation evident in his voice. “I’d make a deal with God and trade places with Josh just so you could have him back.”

Grief washes over me. Not because Adam mentioned Josh, but because I can’t stand the thought of losing Adam. A life without Adam would be unbearable.

“We can’t change what happened, Adam, but the truth is I’ve never been happier in my life. You’re my missing piece, the one who makes me whole. I imagine I’ll always miss Josh, but it’s you I want. It’s you I need. It’s you Josie needs.”

Adam sucks in a ragged breath, and I hope I’ve breathed new life in him with my words. I hope he realizes just how much he means to me, how much I love him. I hope he realizes he’s my everything.

“I love you, sweetie,” he says, pulling me even closer to him. “Always.”

“Always,” I repeat and lie there quietly, listening to his heart beat as he strokes my hair.

My Adam lives with a guilt he has no need to carry. His dad died saving him, the same way Adam would willingly die for his baby girl. The same way he would have willingly laid his life down so Josh would live for me, for his mom.

“Your mom loves you,” I whisper into his chest. “She’s so proud of you, of the little boy who took care of her when she was incapable of taking care of herself, and of the man he’s grown up to be.”

“The little boy wasn’t enough to bring her out of her grief.”

“No one was, not until she was ready.”

“Josh was,” he counters.

“No, baby,” I say, squeezing him tightly. “Josh brought out the spunk of a lonely kid whose life revolved around his mom. Your mom didn’t realize how isolated you were until Josh came into your life,” I recount the story his mom told me while I was in the hospital during one of her visits. “She appreciated what Josh did for you, but she loves you, baby. Seeing you come into your own was what brought her out of her grief and gave her her life back.”

I feel Adam’s eyes on me, so I move upward so that I’m looking at his face and into his eyes.

“Josh made me realize what I could be, but you’re the one who breathed life into me. I don't love you in spite of all the broken pieces, because the broken pieces no longer exist. I love you wholeheartedly. You're the only person I'll ever love for the rest of my life.”

Adam tips his head upwards and takes my mouth in his. After a long gentle kiss, he makes love to me, reminding me of the depth of his love with each touch, each kiss, each thrust.

It doesn’t take long for Juan to schedule our first meeting with an arbitrator. At least we’ll try to handle this whole mess outside of court, but the media is hounding Adam and me for information. Already so much has leaked, and it’s only a matter of time until word gets out about my stay in a psych ward and the whole world knows I’m a lunatic.

I grip Adam’s hand, hoping to absorb his ease and confidence. He’s assured me my parents won’t take Josie. But he doesn’t know my parents. He doesn’t know their determination and their inability to accept defeat. Even if they don’t win today, they’ll come back.

Juan puts his hand on my shoulder, guiding me into the room where my parents are already waiting for us. I nod at them once, unable to ignore their presence. I look into my parents’ eyes, and for the millionth time in my life I silently ask them why they hate me so much.

I take a seat between Juan and Adam, but keep my hand tucked safely in Adam’s hand. I look back at him nervously and he smiles at me, making me feel like I’ve already won.

After we’ve all settled into our seats, the arbitrator commences our meeting by introducing herself as Hilda Tejada. I listen to my parents and their attorney talk endlessly about my lifelong battle with depression and the countless times I had to be taken to the hospital after inflicting some sort of pain to myself. I sit there quietly, but on the inside I’m screaming so loud I have no idea how no one can hear me. Except Adam, whose eyes search mine until I nod slightly at him and squeeze his hand. I’m okay. We knew they’d bring this up.

After they finish their endless speech on my unworthiness, Juan introduces himself as the family attorney and explains to the arbitrator how he has witnessed my parents’ indifference and negligence towards myself and my illness. He gives examples with exact dates and times he has had to step in to ensure my well-being. The arbitrator listens attentively to both parties and takes notes periodically, only speaking when she asks if I’d like to add anything.

Nope, absolutely not. But one look at Adam tells me I should. I nod my head once and feel Adam’s fingers squeeze around my hand.

I have so many stories to share, none of which I want to relive. The most painful actually wasn’t their indifference when Josh died or their disgust when I told them about my stay in the hospital. No, it happened after the first time I cut myself.

“I was twelve years old,” I begin, not realizing I’ve spoken out loud. “I had been watching our neighbor’s daughter when they’re teenage son came home early.”

“Dee, sweetie, there’s no need to bring that up,” my mom says, and I can see the anger behind her eyes, but I push on.

“He hadn’t been drinking or anything, just a typical teenage boy. Horny,” I laugh, still not understanding why he’d go after a twelve year old girl. I feel Adam tense beside me, so I squeeze his hand trying to reassure him the way he had reassured me earlier. “I don’t think I was depressed before then, just some sad moments when my parents were gone for extended periods of time. Anyway,” I shake my head trying to gather my thoughts in a coherent fashion, “he didn’t do a lot. Just touched me and had me touch him, but he didn’t like go inside of me or anything,” I say, more for Adam than anyone else. “When I got home that night, I told my mom what had happened and she just laughed it off. You know, boys being boys. But in my twelve year old mind, what he had done was wrong, and I felt violated. I tried to remember what my mom had said, that it was nothing, but the more I thought about it and my mom’s disinterest, the more it hurt. It hurt so bad that I thought my insides would explode from the pain. I needed a release, do you understand?” I ask Ms. Tejada. “I needed a way to express my pain.”

“What did you do, dear?” she asks, empathy clear in her eyes.

“I got my razor and cut myself.” I inhale sharply at my own words and trace the permanent white scars on my forearm. Although not very visible, I know they’re there, and carry them with me as a reminder of who I never want to be again. “It was the first time I’d ever cut myself, and while it hurt, it also felt better than the emotional pain I had carried with me.”

“Physical pain is sometimes more bearable than emotional pain,” Adam whispers from beside me. I grab hold of his hand again, grateful for his understanding and acceptance of me just as I am.

“Yeah,” I agree. “I cut myself pretty good and went to my mom when it kept bleeding and I panicked. I’ll never forget the look on her face.” I look at my mom as I speak. “It wasn’t disappointment or even fear. She hated me. It’d never been so obvious than that moment. My mom hated me.” I look back at Ms. Tejada with a sad smile on my face. “She didn’t yell at me or help me clean myself up. I went to bed that night feeling lonelier than ever. I woke up the next morning ready to apologize to her, but they were already gone. I think it was to Hawaii that time, and they were gone for three months. I started cutting myself a lot after that. The nannies would find me and I’d hear them plead with my parents to come home and take me to the doctor. It usually fell on Juan’s shoulders to take me to the hospital and explain things.” I shrug. That’s my life in a nicely wrapped nutshell. Nut being the keyword here. “I’ve needed help for years, and only received that help when I admitted myself. I have a letter from Dr. Rios explaining my treatment. She is willing to speak to you should you feel the need.” I hand Dr. Rios’ sealed letter to Ms. Tejada, and she nods as she takes it.

“I think I’ve heard enough,” Ms. Tejada announces, pushing back from the desk as she excuses herself. “If that’s okay with everyone, I’d like to end this meeting and meet again tomorrow morning.”

I nod, but my mom pushes herself from her seat abruptly, forcing all attention on her. “And what about the boy?” She nods towards Adam. “My daughter can weave you a sad tale of her prominent upbringing, but you cannot hide the fact that he is cruel; an animal.”

I roll my eyes at her, done with her and her fiasco.

“I did my research, and that boy is not suited to take care of my granddaughter. No one who is capable of killing an innocent puppy is suited to be a father to anyone.”

I look over at Adam, who is glaring at my mom.

“I spoke to your teachers and your neighbors, all of which described you as a strange boy, a loner. You’ve only ever had two friends. That doesn’t sit well with me.”

I hear Ms. Tejada sigh as she situates herself back on her chair. “I’m not interested in your opinion on Mr. Pena’s psychological well-being. If needed, we will get him evaluated. Mr. Pena, is there anything we should know before I decide whether an evaluation is necessary?”

My hand stays in Adam’s, and I run my thumbs in circles over the back of his hand. I don’t know what happened, if anything did happen at all, but I know Adam, and he’d never willingly hurt anyone or anything.

“After I lost my dad, I kinda withdrew into myself. My life revolved around my mom and taking care of her. I went to school, came home to cook and clean, did homework, and then went to bed after I made sure my mom had taken a shower and eaten. That was my life ‘til my mom put me in a music summer camp and I met Josh, Josie’s real dad. He brought me out of my shell and I started hanging out with him. He was my first friend,” he admits. “Dee was the second when Josh started dating her. So yeah, I guess that makes me strange and a loner, but I’m not dangerous.

“I killed the puppy because I had to. He had been hit by a car, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get anyone to take me to the vet to have him looked at. I didn’t want to kill him, but I didn’t want him to suffer anymore. I knew he wouldn’t make it without veterinary care, and I couldn’t get him the help he needed, so I took care of him. I was fourteen, didn’t have a driver’s license, my mom was working so she couldn’t take me. I took care of him, but I didn’t want to.”

My heart breaks for Adam and his gentle soul. How horrifying that must have been, no matter the age.

“Adam isn’t the type to shrink away from responsibility,” I tell Ms. Tejada. “He takes care of what’s his, and when he found the puppy it became his. He didn’t pass on the responsibility because it was heartbreaking. He shouldered on, just like he always does.”

Ms. Tejada nods her head once before speaking to Adam again. “I understand you are a member of a band. Wasted Circle?” she asks and raises a single eyebrow. I feel Adam squirm beside me; figures the name of the band would be brought up.