Part 6 (1/2)

The only thing worse than Ivy's delusions were the fleeting moments when she'd become aware of her illness. I couldn't begin to imagine the confusion and terror trapped inside her mind. It broke my heart when she'd look at me, her eyes pleading for help, because there was really nothing I could do to take the pain away.

”Don't leave me. Please don't leave me,” she pleaded.

I held her tighter. ”I won't. I always see you, Ivy. I know who you are. Don't worry.”

She began to cry harder onto my shoulders, and my own eyes started to sting. This would never get easier. I had no problem a.s.suring her that I would always be there, though. How anyone with a conscience could abandon someone in her situation was incomprehensible to me. Everyone has a cross. Ivy's and mine were one and the same. I was somehow chosen to help her carry it in this life. I'd always believed that.

We took the Orange Line train back to the group home. It was a quiet and uneventful ride. I stayed with her until about ten o'clock when I left to head home to my sister's house. Allison, her husband Cedric and their twin girls, Holly and Hannah, lived in the Brookline suburb of Boston, about thirty minutes from Ivy. They offered me their spare bedroom for my weekend stays.

Before I got to their door, I turned around, deciding to head to the neighborhood bar around the corner for a quick drink to clear my head. After the day I'd had, it would have to be something strong.

Beacon's Tavern was dimly-lit with a few televisions playing different cable sports channels. It was surprisingly empty and quiet aside from a couple of guys with strong Boston accents arguing over one of the games.

”Vodka straight, please, Lenny.”

The bartender poured my drink and placed it in front of me on the counter. ”Haven't seen you here in a while, Jake.”

”Just trying to stay out of trouble, I guess,” I said before throwing back the liquid courage. The vodka burned my throat as I downed half of it in one gulp.

Avoiding the bar had actually been quite intentional lately. My days with Ivy were always long ones. Because of my weeklong absences, I tried to make the most of my time with her. After leaving the group home on Sat.u.r.days, I usually went back to my sister's for a late dinner of leftovers then slept. But occasionally, I'd hit the bar, and it usually ended up with my drinking too much. Waking up with a hangover on Sunday mornings when I had to return to Ivy's was not ideal.

Lenny placed a second vodka in front of me even though I hadn't asked for one. ”A lot of guys would be just fine with your kind of trouble, pretty boy.”

He was clearly referring to the last time I was in here a few months ago when I left with an attractive blonde named Debra. She and a friend were the only two females in the bar that night and were being hit on by pretty much every single patron. At one point, this drunk dude was coming on too strongly, and Debra looked really uncomfortable. I walked over and pretended to know her, hoping to take his attention away. When he finally got the hint, she and I started talking and ended up getting along well. She was about ten years older than me and in the middle of a divorce. Like me, she said she wasn't looking to get into a relations.h.i.+p but confessed that she hadn't had s.e.x with anyone since her marriage ended.

She asked me to have a night cap with her because her two kids were apparently with their father for the weekend. Debra ended up going down on me within the first two minutes after arriving at her apartment, and we had s.e.x three times. She screamed so loudly when she o.r.g.a.s.med, they probably heard it at Fenway Park.

She kept begging me to f.u.c.k her again, saying no one had ever made her come the way I had. After that night, Debra wouldn't stop calling and texting me. Even though I made it clear I wasn't interested in getting involved with her, she insisted that she needed to see me again, basically doing a total one-eighty. That was the main reason I'd avoided coming back to the bar for so long since she only lived down the street, and I was sure she'd been back to look for me.

Briefly looking behind my shoulder, I shrugged. ”Not interested in getting into any more trouble if you know what I mean, Lenny.”

Of course, the encounter with Debra was before Nina came into the picture. No other woman had entered my s.e.xual consciousness since. Swirling the remainder of my drink around in the gla.s.s, my mind drifted to my roommate again as it typically did lately. I stayed lost in my thoughts for the better part of an hour before throwing a twenty down and exiting the bar.

The rest of that weekend was spent reflecting on the reality of my situation as it related to Nina. It was easier to think straight when we weren't under the same roof. Even if I were to let something happen between us, it would all be a lie. She deserved better than a guy who wasn't up front with her and could never fully be there for her. She deserved better than to be pursued by a married man. Despite the fact that she made me feel more alive than I probably ever had, it was becoming more necessary by the day to distance myself. It needed to start immediately. This was for her own good and ultimately, mine.

Demons by Imagine Dragons played on my iPod as the subway approached my stop back in Brooklyn. It was ironic because the lyrics described to a tee how I saw myself. I was hiding demons, sure, but if she looked closely enough at me, I felt like Nina should have been able to see that they were there. I often wondered why she never asked me what I did every weekend in Boston. It was as if she knew the answer was something she might not want to hear.

As I walked down Lincoln toward our apartment, I thought back to the same time one week ago and how excited I was then to be able to see Nina again. But after my rough weekend with Ivy and the epiphany I had, the approach home tonight was downright painful now that I'd made the decision to stay away from my roommate. The tutoring would have to be it, mainly because I didn't know how to explain my way out of it.

To add to my miserable state, it started pouring rain. I just wanted to get home, shut my door, take off my wet clothes, maybe rub one off and have a cigarette.

Nothing about this night felt right. Even Mrs. b.a.l.l.sworthy wasn't at the window like she normally was at all hours. Being told to go ”f.u.c.k myself” was something I'd come to rely on.

A weird feeling followed me all the way up the stairs to the apartment.

Even though Nina's door was closed, longing developed at the pit of my stomach as I pa.s.sed her room. Not even a minute home, and I was wis.h.i.+ng I could see her. This was going to be one of the hardest weeks of my life.

When I turned the light on in my room, my heart nearly stopped.

I stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of how to handle the sight that greeted me. Nina lay sprawled across my bed, her golden hair covering my pillow. My sketchbooks were all over the bed.

What. The. f.u.c.k.

This should have made me livid, but mainly, it just confused the h.e.l.l out of me. The normal thing to do would have been to wake her up and ask her what the h.e.l.l she was doing snooping through my things. Instead, I threw my backpack down and just stood there taking in the sight of her in my bed.

Nina was in my bed.

Her beautiful a.s.s was facing me as she curled into my mattress. I moved closer to stand over her and just watched her breathing. She must have sensed me because her body stirred, and then she started to wake up. She jumped up so fast you would have thought I'd lit a firecracker under her a.s.s.

”Jake...I can explain,” she said in a hoa.r.s.e voice.

I was mad at her, not for being curious and snooping, though. I was mad because seeing her in my bed undid every f.u.c.king bit of resolve I'd built up on the ride home.

”What the f.u.c.k, Nina?”

A small stream of water from my wet hair dripped down my forehead. Everything was still except for the sound of the rain pelting my window. The ability to speak totally escaped me as she continued to look up at me in fear. She thought I was angry at her. If she only knew the thoughts that were floating through my s.e.xually frustrated mind, how I wished I could take it out on her hard in a different way than she was probably imagining.

She started to speak. ”Um...a few hours ago, I was alone in the house, and your door was open. I had thought I left the math workbook in here, so I came inside. I noticed these sketchbooks. I only meant to peek in at the top one, but when I saw how amazing the first drawing was...I just couldn't stop looking.”

I swallowed hard, knowing that she'd been looking at drawings of Ivy, drawings of my father, even though she had no idea about the meaning behind them. I thanked my lucky stars that I'd nixed the idea of sketching her one night last week because she would have seen that, too.

A mental war continued to be waged inside my head as to whether I should kick her out or ask her to stay.

She continued, ”I must have closed my eyes and fallen asleep.” Her voice was shaking. She reminded me of a s.h.i.+vering puppy. ”I am really sorry. I should have never thought it was okay to look at your stuff. For the record, they are the most phenomenal drawings I have ever seen.”

My chest tightened at the compliment. Trying to buy more time to think, I started to stack the sketchpads on top of each other and returned them to their rightful place.

”Again, I'm sorry.”

She threw me off guard when she suddenly got up from the bed. I instinctively grabbed her wrist to stop her. ”Where are you going?”

I guess I'd made my decision.

”Back to my room.”

I was no longer thinking with the right head when I pushed her down onto the bed slowly. ”Just stay.”

”Stay? What do you mean?”

”I mean...you were comfortable here. Just stay.”

”You're not mad at me?”

”I didn't say that. You shouldn't have been snooping.”