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I’d worked hard the last five years to get past Calvin and the memories that haunted me. I stopped cutting, stopped dreaming that some man would come and rescue me. I moved past dwelling on my strained relationship with my parents, or daydreaming about Adler and what life would look like if he were here with me. Sometimes, I felt like Adler had sent me Fox to help fill the void he left.
“He didn’t tell me he was going to try to see you right away,” Fox added as if reading my mind.
“You’re his brother, South Vale is his home. I can just make myself scarce for a little while, if I have to.”
“Absolutely fucking not. After him being a self-righteous prick to you all these years, he doesn’t deserve to be comfortable. He can come and face everything like a man or stay the hell away from us.”
“Fox. You don’t mean that. He’s your brother. He’s the only family you have left here.”
“And you're my family, too. He’ll have to accept you being around because there’s no way I’m abandoning you. He can apply for shared or partial custody, Ellie, as soon as he finds out. So you might want to mentally prepare yourself for that.”
“I know, but I really don’t want to.”
“It’s not just about the two of you anymore.”
“It wasn’t ten years ago either, but he didn’t seem to care about that. He wouldn’t even let me speak long enough to tell him about her. I went up to the DesMax once a month for a year, and all I did was sit in an empty waiting room like an idiot. I sent letters, which he sent back unopened. I think I don’t owe Cal anything at this point.”
I thought back to how empty I felt, how Cal had made me want to cut again and during the early years and through the post-partum, I sliced up my arms to quell the pain of losing him. That loss hurt more than anything I’d ever felt before, even the loss of Adler. Adler was gone, while Calvin was twenty miles away and refusing me.
Losing Cal had made me feel like I was wading through perpetual darkness. I was young, alone and scared for the future, terrified of raising a child on my own. I knew rationally why Calvin did what he did—he wanted me to forget him—and maybe that sounded easy in practice. What he didn’t know and what I had to find out the hard way, was that moving on had been impossible for me. I wallowed in suicidality and pain for the first five years of my child’s life.
Maybe Cal just didn't’ love me like I loved him. I spent so many nights playing it all out in my head, driving myself to the brink of insanity. So finally, I had to let it go because the truth was, I had someone in my life who needed me to be better. And ultimately, I turned my life around for Adele. I got the help I needed to crawl out of that pit and become a new person, for myself, for my daughter, for our future—a future that didn’t include Calvin anymore.
“You still have those letters, Ellie?” Fox asked, taking me out of my thoughts.
“Fuck no, I burned them five years ago with Charlie.”
Fox leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed as he raised an eyebrow. “Interesting, did Charlie put a curse on them? Did she use her crystals and voodoo to make you stop loving him?”
“Stop. What’s your beef with Charlie anyway?”
“Beef? Please, Ellie, I’ve got no problem with your friend. I like witches.”
“I’m here! You can stop talking about me, Fox,” Charlie said loudly as she threw open the office door. I smiled at Charlie with her fuchsia hair and bright red lipstick.
Fox had always looked like he’d swallowed a frog around Charlie, which was strange because he was usually debonair with the ladies.
Charlie gave me a warm hug and offered Fox a limp-fish handshake.
Charlie was my polar opposite: brash, flashy, and didn’t care about what anyone thought of her. She wasn’t scared to live life, she always did what she wanted, and gave the finger to anyone who tried to judge her.
“Charlie, I think I’ve told you maybe twelve or thirteen times now, that you can’t park in the club president’s parking spot. Every time, I catch hell for it.”
“Oh my God, well, maybe if there was any parking around this co-called club. You guys should look into valet service—spruce the old dump up.”
“Give me your keys and I’ll move it,” Fox said. He’d already given up. Charlie drove him nuts.
“No need. We’re on our way out. If your father was the president, it only makes sense that you’d inherit his spot. I’m not a genealogist, but I’m pretty sure that’s how it goes.”
