Hell and a Hard Place Page 3

  After god only knows how long, Lila walks back into the room with a smile on her face.

  “You’re not pregnant?” I ask, relief already lifting my spirits.

  “You’re going to be a daddy!” she squeals happily.

  Dread chokes me. The bottle falls from my hands. All I can do at first is shake my head. This can’t be happening. Lila takes a step toward me and I stand. “Get the fuck away from me.”

  “Why aren’t you happy? We’re going to have a baby!”

  “Look at us, Lila! You’re…you! We’re alcoholics. We don’t have a good relationship and now, you…” I can’t deal with this anymore. I turn and leave, ignoring her shouts, when she grabs my arm to make me stay, when she punches me in the back because I’m not listening, and when she slaps me as I’m getting on the elevator because I’m leaving despite what she wants.

  I call Idaline.

  “Hey, Ferguson Charles.”

  “No. Can I come see you?” I need someone to ground me. I need to get away from here, but I can’t go home and Idaline is my best bet right now.

  “Now?” she replies with surprise.

  “Now. Please, Idaline.”

  “Yes, of course. Come on.”

  Considering I’ve already driven while consuming alcohol tonight, and I drank some more, I don’t want to get behind the wheel again. I use an app to request a ride, not caring how much it may cost to pay someone to drive me all the way to where Idaline lives in South Carolina. It’s only an hour away. Someone can fucking take me or I’ll walk.

  Lila blows up my phone with calls and texts the moment I get into the car. I block her, so I can have some peace for a while. My body itches for a smoke or more alcohol, but it’s bad enough that I’m showing up to Idaline’s in this condition. The hour passes too slowly. Lila’s having a baby. I can never leave now. How could I leave my child with her? How could I have ever let myself sleep with her without a condom? This is my fucking fault.

  That poor baby will come into this world with shit parents and it’s my fault. I don’t even want the baby. What am I going to say to him or her when they grow up and ask what my reaction was when I learned they were coming into this world? Sorry, kid, but I never wanted you. Not even when I found out you were coming. I even had the horrible thought that I should try to convince your mom to abort you because she’s a wicked witch and I’m a dumb horrible person who allowed this to happen.

  My throat constricts, threatening to strangle me from the inside out. When I finally arrive outside of Idaline’s apartment, I pay the driver and walk up to her door. I knock before I can think about turning back.

  The door swings open and for a moment, everything falls away. My beautiful Idaline is stunning in person. Her hair seems wavier, her light green eyes more vibrant. Her body is definitely more defined and three-dimensional.

  “FC?” she whispers, breaking me out of my trance. “Do you want to come in?”

  I nod and step inside. Idaline closes the door and stands next to me, looking a bit unsure of herself. “Can I give you a hug?”

  Her arms wrap around me with no hesitation. This is the definition of heaven. Her body molds to mine, her head fitting perfectly just below my chin. I never should’ve waited so long for this.

  “You’ve been drinking,” she states quietly.

  “Don’t worry; I didn’t drive here.” I squeeze her tighter, hoping my skin will soak in the comfort that is Idaline. “I’m sorry this is how we’re meeting for the first time. This isn’t how I wanted it to happen. With me needing to get away and coming to the one place I knew I could go.”

  “So, something is wrong.”

  “Worse than that; things are fucked up.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks.

  “No. Let me give you twelve years’ worth of hugs.”

  We stand there, minute after minute, holding onto one another and not for a second is it awkward or uncomfortable. It’s perfection in my arms. My soul soothes a little, patching up the broken parts of me if only temporarily.

  “Let’s sit down,” Idaline eventually says. She leads me to her couch.

  “Nice place.”

  “Thanks.”

  She angles toward me and I angle toward her. My gaze still travels over her apartment, piecing together what I’ve seen in our videocalls and what I’m seeing now. But then, my eyes land on a picture of Idaline holding a baby, who I believe is her niece. I gulp as tears well in my eyes. All the horrid thoughts and actions from earlier pour down over me. Leaning forward, hunched over my knees, I bury my face in my hands.

  Idaline’s hand gently rests on my shoulder and a second later, she rubs my back. That doesn’t help my breakdown of epic proportions. I don’t know when I last cried and if I’ve ever cried in front of a woman, it was my mom or my nana. This is a new low for me. But I keep picturing a mini me and trying to reconcile that with my current feelings of disgust and dislike and of not wanting a damn thing to do with it because of this fucked up situation I’m in. This situation I didn’t get out of soon enough and now I don’t see a way to leave at all.

  If Lila has this kid, I’m not going anywhere. The rest of my life will be full of suffering because the idea of leaving this poor innocent soul in her sole care is unbearable.

  “FC, what’s wrong?” Idaline grabs my shoulder to turn me so my head is on her shoulder and her arms are around me once again. All I can do is shake my head. How can I tell her what I’ve done? “You have to tell me something.”

  “Too fucked up to say.” She’s the last person I want to know about the situation I’ve found myself in.

  Idaline doesn’t push me further. Soon, the tears go away and all I’m left with is dread I don’t think I’ll get rid of anytime soon.

  “Sorry, Idaline,” I say as I wipe the remnants of the tears away. “I’m good now.” As good as I’ve ever be from this point on.

  “I don’t believe you, but okay.”

  She gets a smile from me in appreciation. “Do you mind if I spend the night? Or later, you can take me to a hotel?”

  “You can stay here. I don’t mind.”

  “Thanks.” I lean back, finally getting comfortable on the couch. “So, you want to tell me why you’re still with your boyfriend?”

  Idaline seems stunned for a moment that we’re clearly moving on and ignoring what just happened with me, but she gathers herself quickly. “I tried, but I had a panic attack, which made him think we shouldn’t and that he should come spend time with me that night. Maybe he deserves a chance to show me he isn’t that person. Or a chance for me to talk to him about his behavior next time he does something like that.”

  This answer doesn’t work for me at all. “Okay,” I say anyway. “But answer me this: do you think he would react rationally if he walked in right now and found me here? Or do you think he’d go off and possibly get violent with me, or even you? If you truly believe the first one, then give him your second chance, but if even a little part of you thinks the second one, text him right now and end it.”

  Idaline frowns. “Texting is a little rude and mean, isn’t it?”

  “Who cares? You’re the one doing it.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this tonight, FC.”

  I nod and let it go. Resting my elbow on the back of the couch, I tap her temple. “How are you doing up here?”

  “My anxiety has been a constant bother and I’ve been having trouble sleeping. I’ve had some rough depression days, too.” She smiles. “My therapist will be tickled to hear that we’ve met.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Well, she’s always telling me to be cautious about it, but she’s still eager to hear how it goes when we meet.”

  “She might be more disappointed then. This isn’t anything like how I imagined our first meeting.”

  That causes Idaline to perk up. “How did you imagine it, then?”

  How I imagined it is embarrassing. Tonight has been bad enough, so maybe I
should tell her. It might lighten the mood in the room. With a deep breath, I say, “In my mind, we meet up at a restaurant, somewhere nice, and have the best time of our lives. We reach every expectation we’ve ever had for one another, we realize we’re not that different in person, and there’s no disappointment.” I take another deep breath and look away from her. “It always ends with a kiss goodnight. What about you?”

  “When?”

  “What?” I ask, turning to look at her again since I don’t understand her question.

  “What age? Thirteen? Fourteen? Fifteen? Sixteen? Seventeen? Eighteen? Nineteen? Twenty? Twenty-one? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? Twenty-four? Twenty-five? What age? I’ve imagined it so many times over the years with so many different scenarios, and some of them ended much sexier than a simple kiss goodnight.”

  I stare at Idaline, my mind exploding. Sure, we’ve crossed the friendship line a few times, but not in a long while. With just a few words, Idaline has managed to take my soul, my limp, dying soul, and be its life support while I begin to suffer through the hell I’ve created for myself.

  The way FC looks at me right now is dangerous. Hot and sultry, but dangerous. I twist to grab my notebook from the table behind the couch.

  “What’s that?” FC asks.

  “It’s my list of FC names. I write down all the names I’ve asked, so I won’t ask them again, and if I think of a name, I’ll jot it down to ask you later.”

  “Let me see that,” he says, and I hand him the notebook. He smiles as he flips through the pages, running his fingertips over my handwriting. “Do you want me to go through and put an X by these for you while I’m here?”

  “No!” I snatch it back. “That’s not how this works.” Flipping back to my most recent page, I say, “I want to ask you at least one right now, so,” I look at him, “Felix Carlos?”

  FC already wears a grin and it stays as he shakes his head.

  “Darn it,” I whisper, reaching for the pen and putting an X by those names. I put the notebook back in its place. “You know, I can take you home in the morning. I have to be at work by seven, so we’ll have to get up early, but I don’t mind.”

  “If you really want to do it, then I won’t stop you, but you don’t have to.”

  Do I want to spend an extra hour with him? Absolutely. Even if it means getting up way early.

  “Tell me a secret, Idaline,” FC commands.

  Every so often, he requests this of me. I don’t mind telling him something. Mostly because I always get a secret in return. The secrets aren’t always serious or deep, but it’s always something he didn’t know about me before and something very few, if any, people know about me.

  My instinct is to tell something light and funny, but that is not what spills from my lips as I lean my head against the back of the couch and stare up at the ceiling. “I worry I won’t ever settle down.”

  “Why? You’re a great catch, Idaline.”

  I snort. “Yeah, something you catch and release. For the most part, I feel ready, but,” I shrug, “there’s no one to settle down with.”

  “Your heart will let you know who he is; time is a fickle bitch, though. When life thinks you’re both ready, it’ll happen,” FC reassures me.

  “What’s your secret?” I ask, not wanting to dwell on this for too long.

  “I’m an alcoholic.” At this, I sit up straight, turning completely toward him as I crisscross my legs. “My mom worries I drink too much, but I’ve never actually admitted it out loud.”

  So many things cross my mind. How long has he been an alcoholic? How bad is it? What does his girlfriend think about this? But I shove all of those aside and ask, “Well, do you want to get help and stop?”

  FC sighs. “I can still get up and go to work the next day and…” His voice trails off as he shakes his head, now refusing to look at me. “I hate to say this, especially to you, but I don’t know, Idaline. The only thing it’s hurting right now is my liver.”

  “Okay,” I whisper. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want help. “If you change your mind, let me know. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  “Thanks. I hate to further ruin this night, but I’m exhausted. Where is the bathroom and where will I sleep?”

  “I only have one bedroom, so all I have is my couch. I’ll grab some sheets and a pillow and show you the bathroom.” We stand and FC follows me, disappearing into my bathroom while I walk into my room to find what I need to set him up on the couch. I have him a little bed made by the time he returns from the bathroom. “All set up. Make yourself at home if you wake up and need a drink or something.”

  “Thanks.” He steps forward and hugs me again. “I’d be lost without you, Idaline,” he whispers. His hugs are killing me. They feel so good and solid and perfect. They’re exactly what I imagined a hug from FC would be like. Even when he’s obviously in a bad place, his hugs are still the most comforting thing I’ve ever experienced. I don’t ever want to let go. And then, he tells me something like that? The world fades away more and more with every second. “One day, we’ll have a first meeting re-do.”

  I pull back the tiniest bit to look at him. “Let’s not wait twelve years to see one another again, okay?”

  FC smiles. “I can definitely promise that.”

  And then, our eyes don’t move away. Our souls reach out to one another, wrapping around one another and refusing to let go. Our heads inch closer and closer until his mouth touches mine. I may have just died and come back to life. No, that’s not right. His kiss brings me to life for the first time in my twenty-five years. It became the best kiss of my life the moment his lips met mine, and every second after that became the best time of my life.

  It’s slow. It’s minty as if he somehow brushed his teeth. It’s infused with twelve years of want, need, and sexual frustration. It’s…

  It’s over?

  “Fuck, Idaline. I’m sorry.” FC takes five steps away from me, leaving my body cold, my mind confused, and my soul chasing desperately after his. He shakes his head. “You have a boyfriend, and this is not the kind of man I want to be around you. I’m so sorry.”

  He’s…sorry? Numbness hits me hard. “It’s okay,” I lie. “I should go to bed.” I walk around him and to my room, hoping he’ll stop me and say something else, anything else, but he never does. I close my bedroom door, get ready for bed, take my pills, and crawl beneath my sheets.

  How can he be sorry for something I was waiting for since I was thirteen? I don’t care what happens, I could never regret that kiss. It’s singlehandedly the best first kiss I’ve ever had, except for the apology that came afterward. My lips still tingle from the sensation of his mouth on mine. How can I forget that happened? Because I can promise I won’t.

  In fact, I replay the kiss over and over in my head and it only takes a few minutes for me to fall asleep.

  However, in the morning, when I wake up and walk to the bathroom to take my shower, I find a piece of paper on the counter next to the sink. My heart drops as I quickly read it.

  I’m so sorry, Idaline. I feel like I’ve said that to you too much lately, but it’s something you deserve to hear from me. You should go back to bed because I’ve left. Please don’t be upset with me for being overly cautious and leaving so you won’t have to take me home. You admitted that your mental health hasn’t been too great lately and I don’t want to cause any anxiety by forcing you to be stuck in a car with me for an hour after that kiss last night.

  You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I don’t want to mess us up. You have no idea what your friendship means to me. Me leaving early is the only way I know how to look out for you. We’ll talk soon, I promise.

  And if it makes you feel any better, I miss you already.

  He left without saying goodbye? With the note in hand, I run to the front door, hoping with every fiber of my being that I can catch him somehow. Smoke hits me when I rip the door open. FC twists with a frown from where he sits on the on
e step of my front porch. Relief causes me to drop to my knees and hug him.

  “Idaline, you’ll smell like cigarettes,” FC wheezes while I squeeze as tight as I can, so thankful he hasn’t left yet.

  “I don’t care.” Even though it does seriously stink. “You’re not allowed to leave without saying goodbye, FC,” I whisper. “And I’m taking you home.” He’s still here, and I’m getting that extra time with him.

  “Idaline,” he sighs.

  “No.” I lean back, our arms falling to our sides, and that’s when it hits me that I’m only wearing a T-shirt. I tug it down over my knees. “I’m fine, FC. No anxiety. Please?”

  He looks at me as if he’s waiting for something to hit me and give me anxiety. As if he’s waiting for me to realize something and I haven’t done it yet. “Okay. Go get ready then. I won’t go anywhere.”

  I stand and hurry inside, feeling awkward about being so underdressed around him, especially after last night. After stopping in my room to put his note in my nightstand, I return to the bathroom and get ready for the long day ahead. I release a breath when I walk into my living room to find that FC is indeed still here.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  “As I’ll ever be.” He wears a smirk as he looks at me, but there’s nothing smirky going on.

  “What’s with the smirk?” I finally ask once we’re outside, walking to my car.

  “I’ve never actually seen you in scrubs.” He motions to my entire body. “I only get from here up.” He points to the middle of his torso. There’s that smirk again. “You pull them off, Idaline.”

  I laugh. “Should I wear them on my next date?” I ask.

  “Maybe.” FC gives me an address for my GPS and then we’re well on our way. “You aren’t mad at me, are you? For what I was going to do?”

  “I was more upset that you were leaving without saying goodbye than why you were leaving. That hurt.”

  “We’re oh and one as far as meetings go,” he says with a bit of a sigh.