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I slowly walk down the stairs after taking a long, hot shower. I’m not in a rush to do anything.
The clinking of dishes tells me Sandra’s in the kitchen.
I walk unhurriedly to her, my fingers trailing along the wall as I stare at the faded designs in the paisley runner that lines the hallway.
Sandra looks over her shoulder as I enter the kitchen. “Hey chica,” she says with a smile and returns to the dirty dishes and suds.
“Hey,” I say listlessly. I grab a bottle of water from the stainless steel fridge and sit down at the kitchen table in the corner, playing with the plastic cap. “What does Tony do?” I ask her.
“He’s employed by Derek.” She turns her head to talk while she's scrubbing a frying pan. “Technically it's Wade LLC. Or something like that. I'm not really sure.” And with that, she turns back to the sink. As if knowing a company's name is all that matters.
“But what does hedo?” I pry. I need to know if she knows about all of Derek’s businesses. Specifically the one that’s making me freak out. I try to take a sip of water, but I don’t want it. I set it back down on the table and pick up the cap, rolling it between my fingers.
“I don't know. Doyouknow what he does?” she challenges. She drops the frying pan she just washed into the dish drainer a little harder than necessary. My eyes fly to hers.
“No,” I say easily, not wanting to fight with her. “That's why I'm asking you.” I start peeling the label off my water bottle, picking at the edges slowly. I don't want to piss Sandra off, but I don't know how she handles Tony dealing, and all the dangers that come with it. No matter what Derek says, I know it’s not safe.
Sandra huffs out a deep breath. “He mostly works in the greenhouse. That's what he told me.”
“And you believe him?” He's Derek’s best friend. I can't believe that he only works in the greenhouse. I can’t see a man like Tony watering plants and picking leaves or whatever the hell they do.
Her body tenses. She turns off the water and turns around to face me, picking up a dishtowel off the counter. She's pissed off. “Yeah, of course I do. He wouldn't lie to me,” she says as she dries her hands. She leans against the dark granite countertop, facing my direction.
I stare at my water bottle, rather than her. I can feel her watching me rip my water bottle label up. This isn’t about her or Tony.
“I don’t ask questions, Emma,” she says after a long moment, breaking the silence.
“I just have to,” I confess as I turn to look at her. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I can’t just pretend anymore.
She walks over to the kitchen table and sits down next to me. Her expression softens as she finally realizes I’m not here to fight with her over her decisions. She puts her hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently; it’s a compassionate touch, and one that I needed. “Yeah, I did, too. But the thing is… he can’t just walk away. And he’s doing the best he can. The bad things… sometimes they happen. But I don’t wanna hear about them. I don’t wanna be a part of it. You know?” she tells me, her eyes wide and pleading.
“But don’t you love him?” I don't understand how she can just turn a blind eye to what's going on.
“Of course I do,” she says sincerely.
“Then I don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head.
Exasperated, she stands up and walks back to the sink. “Just don't ask questions, Emma.”
I stare at her back as the sound of running water hits my ears, wondering how she does it. I don't think I can do it. I clean up the shredded label, throw it in the trash, and head back upstairs, my chest hurting and feeling more conflicted than I did before I approached her.
I fall onto my bed, burying my head into my pillow. What am I going to do? I'm falling for Derek.Hard. I knew I would. I was so stupid to do this. Stupid to get involved with him again.
It's going to rip me to shreds when this tears us apart. I lift my head up and stare at the grey and white area rug on top of the hardwood floor.
I don't see how it could end differently this time. Derek is still bad news. I need to focus on school and my career. I've worked so hard; I can't fuck it up now. I can’t see a future with him, not with him doing this shit.
I want one though. God help me, I want a life with him. I wish I didn’t know.
I swallow thickly and ignore how I'm feeling. When I leave the state and go back to school, I’m sure things will change. The distance will make it easier. That’s what the real problem is. We’re like magnets drawn to one another, needing each other’s touch. We need space between us. The very thought makes me hate myself. But I can’t lie to myself anymore. He’s not good for me.
I grab my books from my Kate Spade bag that’s lying on the dresser. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, my back leaning against the headboard, I decide to bury myself in work. That’s all I’ll have when he’s gone anyway. The realization makes me feel so empty.
There are so many topics in this book that relate to him; children growing up with an abusive parent, children and teens turning to drugs to help them cope.
The back of my head bangs against the headboard.
I shove the book away and lie down. I put my hands over my eyes. They feel so cool. It's so comfortable. I turn lazily and grab the remote off the nightstand, turning on the TV. I just need to do something mindless. Turning onto my side, I put the throw pillow between my knees and cover up with the white crocheted blanket neatly folded at the end of the bed. I flick through the channels until I find the Lifetime Movie Network. There's some love story-turned-murder mystery on.
