Her eyes flash with hurt, and it makes me feel guilty. “I’m here because yesterday was the 15th.”
“It slipped my mind completely, I’m sorry.”
We have a long-standing tradition. Ever since we were in college and legally able to drink. We’ve met up on the 15th of every month to hang out, to get drunk, to talk. I completely forgot. I had no idea yesterday was the 15th.
“I must have called you a million times, Lin. I waited for you.”
Guilt slides through me. I’m still standing, turned away from her. She hasn’t noticed the bruise on the side of my head yet. I managed to cover it a little with my hair, but it’s still visible if she looks closely.
“I’m sorry. I lost my phone and haven’t had a chance to replace it. I’ve had some things on my mind,” I mutter.
“You lost your phone and just stayed without it? Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”
I wish I had an answer for her, but I don’t know what the hell is going on with me. She gets to her feet now too and I feel her warm hands on my arm. She turns to me gently, and her eyes are so warm, so kind that I feel the walls close in on me.
“Lindsay, please talk to me.”
It only takes a second for her eyes to widen. She lifts a hand to my hair and gasps at the bruise. It’s not as bad as it was two days ago. I iced it a little and the swelling has reduced.
“What happened to you?”
“I fell,” I grit out, not even trying hard to sound sincere.
Her eyes narrow. “You need to tell me the truth. I’m trying very hard right now, Lindsay.”
“Well, then don’t,” I snap, shifting out of her grasp. “I’m sorry, Val, I know I’m not being fair to you right now, but I want to be alone today. Is that okay?”
“No,” she says stubbornly. “Just talk to me.”
I rub a hand over my face, feeling my heartbeat quicken. I can feel a panic attack brewing and I need her to leave so I can keep it at bay. I’m currently held together by fraying threads and she’s about to unravel them all.
“I don’t want to talk, Val. Okay?” I shout. “I just want to be alone. You can’t help me. Go back to your new life. To your husband and your new family, and leave me alone. Please.”
“Is that what this is about? My family? The Vitales?” she asks, concerned.
The words are desperate and make me feel hollow inside. My best friend is practically shell shocked.
“Lindsay,” she whispers. “I can help you. Let me help you.”
“No. You mean your husband can help me. The mobster? I don’t want any help from you, Valentina. Not from you and certainly not your husband. I love you Val, but I don’t think I want anything to do with your family.”
“Lin,” she says placing her hand on my arm.
I want to talk to her, but I don’t know what to say. And I don’t want to tell her about everything that happened. She already has her own stuff to deal with and I know it’s not easy knowing her baby is being born into this world. I don’t want to add to it, but also, I need to think.
“I’m going to go, okay? Because you’re clearly very emotional right now,” her voice is kind. So kind and I feel like complete and utter shit. “But I’ll come back and then we’ll talk, okay?”
I don’t say anything. She turns to leave and I realize there’s a question on the tip of my tongue. A question only she can answer.
“Valentina,” I call quietly. She turns immediately. “How do you do it? Love your husband despite knowing who he is and what he’s done? How do you justify it to yourself?”
“I don’t justify it,” she replies with a sad smile. “He brings a lot of light into my life, regardless of the darkness. And he lovesme enough that it doesn’t matter. I made my peace with who he is.”
To me it just sounds like she ignores the hard parts, the darkest parts of the man she loves. She keeps them hidden under lock and key and then pretends that all he brings to the table is the light she feels. She found a man beneath a monster and now acts like that’s all there is to him.
It’s naïve.
I don’t say all this to her, though. If she’s found happiness in it, then I wish her well.
