The Debt (12 page)

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Authors: Tyler King

BOOK: The Debt
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“She stayed behind for you.”

That stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Hadley didn’t turn down Emerson because she was too afraid to move to Boston. She stayed behind because I told her you didn’t want to leave the band or the house where your mother died.”

My mind filed through dozens of old conversations. The day I wrote my rejection letter to Columbia. Yelling at Hadley about ruining her life. Sitting down with the dean when I accepted my invitation to the university on the stipulation that they accept Hadley as well.

“It was all bullshit,” I muttered under my breath. “You set us up.”

“I did what I thought was best for you.”

“You lied to me! What right do you think you have?”

“You’re my son! Goddammit, Josh. You’re my son and you’ve carried this demon long enough. If it weren’t for that girl, I’d have nothing. No one. I love you with all my heart, but losing your mother destroyed me. There will never be another woman. I put my heart in the ground with my wife, and there it will remain. I’ll never be whole again. I’ll never be a complete person without her. I miss her every second of every day.

“I’ve done you a disservice. I should have put a stop to this nonsense sooner. Your mother wouldn’t have let it get this far, but that’s why she was the better of us all. You’ve always been an impulsive and prideful person, but this time it has carried on too long. You’re hurting yourself. The two of you need each other. You won’t be whole without her.”

When I opened my eyes and finally took a breath, I found myself on the floor. My entire body shook and my head pounded.

“Dad...”

“I love you,” he said. “You’re all I have left. I will always do everything in my power to protect you and see that you are happy. Please, Josh. Don’t let her get away. You know as well as I do that she doesn’t want to leave.”

“What can I say? It’s been so long.”

“Start at the beginning and just tell her the truth. Hadley will understand if you fill in the blanks. Trust her. She wanted to be there for you then and she will be again. You just have to let her.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, trying to muster up the same confidence that my father so ardently held.

“I’ll try, but—”

“Take the first step. That’s the hardest part.”

My father’s words echoed in my mind long after the call ended. In the dark, I sat on the floor with my back to the foot of the bed, eyes closed, face buried in my hands. The persistent headache that had plagued me for days returned, joined by the anxiety crawling under my skin and nausea turning my stomach.

I thought about going downstairs. I imagined the vacant black piano sitting almost invisible in the dark. Tugging at the roots of my hair, I watched myself take slow, tentative steps inside. Still far enough from the piano that I couldn’t quite reach it, I pictured a younger version of myself sitting at the keys.

Beside me, my mother walked in and took a seat at the bench. She smiled while I played, brushing my messy hair off my forehead with gentle fingers. With an audience, I sat up straighter to assume a proper posture. My fingers traveled the keys. Carmen knew the tune well—I’d written it for her—and hummed along with the melody. She had the sweetest voice, a delicate and angelic soprano.

But the lighting changed. Where once it was daylight, the clouds coalesced around the house to shutter the sun and leave behind a gray wash. Her song transitioned. I sat taller, older. Carmen’s skin turned pale. Glancing at her, I saw the discomfort in her unfocused eyes. Her hand reached out to grab mine from the keys.

“Mom?” I held her shoulders, searching her anguished face. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t respond as the last remnants of color fell from her cheeks and sweat gathered on her forehead.

“Mom.” I captured her face between my hands. Worry wrung my heart as I began to panic.

She fell limp and lifeless in my lap. Collapsed across my legs. Blood trickled from her nose.

“Mom,” I pleaded again, holding her. “Wake up. Please.” I wiped the blood from her nose, lightly rubbing her cheek. “No, no, no.”

Caramel eyes stared up at me, but they were empty and unresponsive.

“Shit... shit...” I shook her, a futile struggle to reverse the damage and rouse her.

“Dad!”

The sound didn’t make it past my lips. There was no voice behind it; my throat held a boulder too massive to move.

“Dad!”

“Josh. Hey, it’s me.”

My eyes snapped open and landed on the dark vision of Hadley’s face inches from mine. Warm hands held my face as she crouched in front of me.

“What?”

“You were calling for your dad.” Hadley’s thumbs slid along my jaw. “I think you had an episode. How do you feel?”

I filled my lungs with another deep breath, letting my head fall back against the edge of the bed. She released me, dropping her hands to my shoulders, where she continued to run her thumbs over my damp skin.

“Exhausted,” I said. “Sorry.”

This wasn’t the first time, but I hadn’t had such a vivid flashback in a while.

Hadley’s hands left me, and I sought her eyes. She couldn’t leave me yet.

“Stay here,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

She walked into my bathroom and returned with a glass of water. I drank it in one mouthful.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

She sat beside me, resting her back against the end of the bed with her knees curled up to her chest. “I didn’t get in.”

“Huh?”

“I heard you on the phone with Simon, and I didn’t get in. That’s why I haven’t said anything. It was a long shot anyway. Turning them down once doesn’t engender a lot of goodwill. I didn’t want to tell you if it didn’t pan out.”

“When did you find out?”

“A week ago. I guess I’m still licking my wounded ego.”

“Fuck ’em. Who needs Emerson? A bunch of pretentious elitists who wouldn’t know talent if it shit in their shoes.”

Punky snorted a laugh. “Unlike the unpretentious elitists at Columbia, right?”

“Well, yeah. They wanted me, so they have great taste.”

“Jackass.”

We were quiet for a moment, perhaps both struggling to figure a way in or out of this conversation as we stared out the windows and the black night beyond them.

There was one question I just had to ask. “Why now?”

Taking a deep breath, she rested her chin on her folded arms. “Nothing had changed. I sent off the application over summer break. I thought...” She paused and turned her attention away from me. “I thought maybe I was holding you back or just making it worse. That if I left, maybe you’d—I don’t know—get better or go back to therapy or... something. Honestly, Josh, hitting rock bottom would be an improvement over the last couple of years. This pattern just has to stop. You’re barely living.”

And here I thought I was hiding it well. “You’re right.”

Beside me, Hadley deflated.

“But none of that is your fault. That’s on me.”

“I’ve felt helpless, you know? And I don’t mean I want sympathy or anything. I just...I don’t know how to help.” Hadley shifted to face me, her eyes sincere and steadfast. “I don’t know if you want me to try or if it’s better that I keep my mouth shut. I don’t know when it’s the right time to push or if I’m making it worse. And then sometimes you just piss me off.”

“I’m good at that.”

“Really good.”

“Maybe I pick fights with you, on occasion, just to get you to talk to me.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” But there was a little smile in her voice, and her eyes told me that she understood. “Maybe we’re both idiots.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer until her head rested against me. As only Punky could, she’d chased off my queasy stomach and trembling muscles.

Now for the hard part.

“This is going to suck,” I warned her.

“A big fat one.” Hadley slid one hand across my abdomen and held my waist. “Three days ago we wouldn’t have gotten this far.”

“You’re right. Maybe I should be drunk for this. That seemed to work out well the last time.”

“You can be awfully charming when you’re wasted.”

“Noted.”

Like two lungs of the same body, we both took a deep breath and held on tighter. I opened my mouth to begin. This was it. There wouldn’t be another opportunity. I wouldn’t get a better shot. But Hadley spoke first.

“My parents,” she began. “They were murdered in a home invasion. In the middle of the night, my mom came into my room and woke me up, put me in the attic and told me to hide. I’ve never understood why they didn’t come with me. Why wouldn’t they hide and wait for the police?

“When Tom first brought me home, I’d lock myself in my room or hide in the attic for hours. When he took the door off the hinges, I started running away. I thought I could make it back to them somehow. Fix it. It wasn’t until he took me to see Simon that Tom understood.”

“What are you saying?”

“It’s not your fault.” Hadley sat up, meeting my eyes. “I’ve slept with my bedroom door locked ever since. I’d wake up in the middle of the night and check every lock in the house. Sometimes two or three times a night. I liked staying here when we were kids and Tom was on the road because nothing bad ever happened to me when you were there, in the foster home. I know that sounds horrible, but I always felt safe with you.

“Tom had me stay over with your family or let you stay at the house because he knew that I needed it. The way I am...” Hadley exhaled, looking down at her fingers picking at the hem of my sweatshirt in her lap. “It’s not your fault. I know you blame yourself, that you feel like you have this obligation to me, but it started before that night.”

“I made it worse,” I argued. “There’s no getting around that and I don’t want you to make excuses for me. I abandoned you, Hadley. Whether I knew what would happen or not, whether I understood the history, I fucked up. I was supposed to be there. I was supposed to protect you. Tom trusted me.” My voice rose until I was all but shouting in her face. “You needed me. I fucked you and left you there. Damn it, Hadley! Why don’t you hate me?”

I shoved to my feet, unable to sit still any longer. My muscles twitched with the need to...I didn’t know what. But I had to move. I paced the length of my room, the anger building until I stopped and rounded on Hadley now standing at the foot of the bed.

With all the confusion and fury coursing through my veins, I shouted at her. “Why are you taking the blame?”

“Why do you have to be the martyr?”

“Fuck!” I tugged at my hair, continuing to pace. “All this time, Hadley. Years. I’ve had this thing hanging over my head. I think about it constantly. Did you know that? I think about it until I’m sick to my stomach and then I lash out at you just to get a reaction. Just to get some kind of emotion from you. Hate me or yell at me or tell me I’m a sorry sack of shit. Don’t stand there and rationalize that my fucked-up bag of crazy is somehow your fault.”

“I took advantage of you.”

I stopped short, snapping my eyes to her. “What did you say?”

“You weren’t ready and I took advantage of you.”

“Fuck off.”

This was a bad idea. My fingers tingled like I’d sat on them too long and a chill ran down my spine. I was wrong; I wasn’t ready for this.

“Josh—”

Hadley reached for me, but I jerked away from her.

“I was the aggressor,” she said. “I instigated it. We went from first kiss to sex in the span of one night and I never stopped to think that maybe we should stop. I didn’t take into account what it would do to you. I fucked up,” she insisted, “because I wasn’t looking out for you. I should have been your friend, but I was selfish and pushed you too hard.”

“Are you fucking serious?” I stalked the short distance between us until I hovered over her much shorter stature and glared down. “You don’t have that sort of power over me. No one does. I fucked you because you were warm, wet, and willing.”

“Don’t do that.”

The sympathy in her eyes infuriated me.

“I don’t believe that,” she said, “so don’t hide behind the act.”

“What act? You’ve had a front-row seat to my highlight reel. I feel nothing anymore. Sex doesn’t mean anything to me. I use women, I get off, and there’s nothing more to it.”

“I thought tonight we were going to be honest.”

I couldn’t handle it anymore. I felt claustrophobic. Cornered. My temples throbbed with a near-blinding headache.

“You won’t convince me that you’re really that person, Josh. If you think fucking through the pain is some sort of desensitization therapy, fine. But I know the real you. You’re not as numb or uncaring as you try to project.”

Her words, the tone of her voice, were like a blade peeling at my flesh. My legs went heavy, forcing me to step back and fall to the futon. I just didn’t have any fight left in me.

“I can’t finish at all with another person. I have this sort of mental block that won’t let me get there no matter how good it feels. Then I dream about being with you our first time and it has me hugging the toilet in the middle of the night. Horrible panic attacks.”

I felt so fucking pathetic saying it out loud. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I understood that I had never wanted to admit as much to Hadley because doing so felt like the final nail in the coffin. Her opinion of me mattered. I knew it was shit at the moment, but showing weakness in front of her was pretty much my least favorite thing. Short of having her, living with the far-fetched fantasy that there could be a future for us had been a small consolation that my heart held on to, no matter how improbable. It got me through the day.

Because I had nothing left to lose, and if I was going to present myself—naked, ashamed, and shivering at her feet—with all my scars and flaws, I looked up into Hadley’s sorrowful eyes and said the words out loud. The truth this time.

“Making love to you is the happiest memory I can’t stand to think about. Nothing has ever felt so perfect. I was right there, Hadley. I was with you completely. And then I wasn’t. That night and every time since, I get to that moment of release and all I see is him standing over me and the things he made me do to him.” The way he’d leave me like a used rag on the floor.

Hadley came to stand between my legs. She wove her fingers into my hair at the nape of my neck, anchoring herself there. My hands found their way to the backs of her thighs, skimming her bare skin.

“I pulled over for an hour on the side of the road that night I left you because I couldn’t stop throwing up. I couldn’t see straight. I damn near wrapped my car around a tree. Every day all I want is to lean on you and get as far away from you as possible. You were the only person I could talk to and the last person I wanted to tell.” By the time the words fell out of my mouth, I was almost in tears. “My life didn’t begin until I met you. I’ve loved you every day that matters. I’m so fucking in love with you and you scare the shit out of me.”

That was it. I had nothing left. I’d bled my fears dry and felt all the more ashamed, embarrassed, and worthless for the experience.

“Are you scared of me now?” Hadley’s voice was gentle as her fingers combed through my hair.

My head lolled into her palms. I was exhausted and unable to fight the simple fact that her touching me was a need I couldn’t resist. I was greedy for her.

“No.”

I didn’t have the energy or good sense to be afraid while both of our open wounds sat exposed to the air.

Very slowly, Hadley hoisted one leg and then the other over mine. “Does this bother you?”

As she sat astride me on the futon, my hands slid up to her ass. I held her, just the lightest touch, but my temperature rose with the feeling of her straddling my hips.

“No,” I responded past a mouth full of sand.

“I want to kiss you,” she said. “I’m going to kiss you unless you tell me not to. You’ve got about three inches to make up your mind.”

I looked at her, dazed, confused, and in awe. In the dark, Hadley’s eyes were their own light. There was no sadness. No pain. She looked perhaps the most peaceful I’d ever seen her.

She leaned forward just a fraction. “One. T—”

I pressed my lips to hers.

My Hadley didn’t live atop a pedestal. Neither of us was under any misconception that we were anything but flawed individuals with extensive backgrounds in mistakes and bad decisions. We’d both inflicted pain on each other and suffered our fair share. Despite all of that, and maybe because of it, her lips joined with mine felt like salvation. Her kiss was acceptance. Forgiveness that I felt I needed whether she agreed with me or not.

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