I GET BY WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS
Eric sat across from Dr. Leslie Thorne and stared at her. He was trying to form the words to answer her question, but he couldn’t come up with anything. He searched her face, her blonde hair, the green eyes that hid behind her glasses, for some kind of clue to what his answer should be but he…had nothing. His throat felt like sand.
“Eric,” she repeated. “Why are we here today?”
And then, finally, he spat it out. “Because I think I might have the capability of abuse. Of…of, you know, domestic abuse.”
Dr. Thorne adjusted the glasses on her face and sat back in the armchair across from him, and rested her hand on the thigh of her dark green pants. “The capability? Have you ever hit a loved one? A spouse? Or are you referring to emotional--?”
“Physical,” he interrupted. “And…and, no, I’ve never hit anyone. I never wanted to, I’ve never felt the urge or the desire, in fact the whole idea completely sickens me, but…I think it could be coming.”
“All right,” she conceded. “Would you like to start from the beginning?”
Letting out a breath, he rubbed his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees. “To be honest, I’m not really sure where the beginning is anymore. Um, there’s a woman. And she’s…she’s wonderful. And beautiful and intelligent and—God, I’ve got it so bad for her. I’m falling so hard, she’s everything I ever wanted and I can—I can see myself with her. Forever.”
“That sounds lovely,” Dr. Thorne smiled.
He glanced up at her. “It is. But…but she’s dealing with her own stuff. She had it real bad growing up and she was married once and she’s…she’s an abuse survivor. Child abuse, domestic abuse, all of it. And she hasn’t…she hasn’t been in a stable relationship since. On purpose. And when I saw her for the first time,” he paused to smile, losing himself in his own words. “Her smile changed my life. And I knew it right then, you know? In an instant. Anyway, we didn’t actually meet until sometime later and it was like we’d known each other for years. She was scared and I was nervous, but she finally spoke to me. And then she let me kiss her. And then she sat there and told me her entire life story and we talked all night long. It was the best night of my life.”
“So she reached out to you. Someone with her history probably wouldn’t reach out to someone so easily. She must have sensed something in you.”
“All I want to do is take care of her,” Eric breathed. “It’s all I ever wanted since the moment I laid eyes on her, even before I knew anything about her. I want to make her happy, I want her to smile. I want her to feel secure. But I can’t—I don’t—I don’t feel like I can make her feel any of that and I’m trying so hard to take it slow for her because of her fragile state because that’s what she said she needed. Juliet is my entire world. I would do anything for her.”
Finally, Dr. Thorne blinked her eyes and shifted in her seat. “Juliet?” She asked as she flipped through the book in her lap. “Juliet? That’s her name?”
“Uh, yeah,” Eric replied warily. “Is there a problem?”
“No,” Dr. Thorne smiled, re-crossing her legs and adjusting her glasses. “No problem at all, I was just making sure I was keeping up.”
Eric nodded. “Okay. Anyway, it’s been difficult for us. I just want her and she…is apparently dealing with her past for the very first time. She doesn’t know which end is up half the time, she has nightmares, she calls me in the middle of the night, she’ll—she’ll smile one minute and be crying the next, she wants me and then she pushes me away, it’s been…one hell of a ride. And then we had an argument.” Eric sucked in a breath and sat back on the sofa he sat on. “And it was bad. Really bad. I had seen her at the gym with a male friend of hers—just a friend—after I had just…I walked out on her.”
“You walked out on her…before or after the argument?”
“There was an argument before that one, too.”
“Oh,” Dr. Thorne nodded.
“Actually, no,” Eric shook his head. “No, that’s--it really wasn’t, it was…all she needed was for me to understand her and instead I was selfish. And then I walked out on her.”
“Therefore, ending your relationship.”
“I don’t think I’d call what we were in a ‘committed’ relationship. I want to be in one. And I think she…I don’t know,” he breathed. “Anyway, at this point, I screwed up. Then I saw her at the gym with her friend. And I knew he was her friend, I knew it, deep down I knew it when I saw them, but…I was so angry. How could she beg me not to leave her that day that I did and then turn around and go out with another man? It didn’t make sense. And for as long as she was jerking me around? I mean, come on.”
“So you feel led on.”
“Well, I thought I did. In the moment. Before I had time to think about it. So I showed up at her apartment later that day and I accused her of having a boyfriend and then we…we slept together and she told me she wanted to commit to me. That she wanted to start over, make it right. She missed me.”
“A step in the right direction?”
“I was still angry over the guy. I just went over in my head how many times this has happened—reeling me in and pushing me away, and I grew impatient and I rejected her. And then we argued again. And then I…in the heat of the moment, it flew out of my mouth…”
Eric paused to catch his breath. His throat was locking up and there was no way he was going to allow himself to cry in front of a stranger. It was bad enough that he cried as it was and that was better done in the safety of his own home. Alone.
“I sympathized with him,” he continued. “Theoretically. With that monster, with her dead husband who…who beat and raped her on a regular basis.” He had a hard time looking into the therapist’s eyes at the moment. “I’ve been so sick over it since it happened. Physically sick. I’ve vomited…countless times. I can’t sleep and I’m restless and I’m just so…”
“What exactly did you say?” She pressed gently.
Eric sucked in a nose full of air and clasped his hands together. His heart raced and sweat formed on his brow. “I told her that it was no wonder he smacked her around a little bit because she’s crazy as hell.”
And at that, he lost it. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. The tears flowed from his eyes and he buried his head in his hands as he rocked against his knees. Dr. Thorne sat there in silence and didn’t try to subdue him, instead allowing him to shed his tears and wallow in his self-pity. For several minutes, he dug his palms into his eye sockets and wiped his nose with his sleeve. Once he’d finally decided he’d made enough of a fool of himself, he dried himself up and straightened back up again.
“She never wants to see me again,” he croaked.
“Eric, what was the nature of your argument?” Dr. Thorne asked gently.
His eyes still wet, he sniffed, and then he scoffed a laugh, sitting back against the sofa once again. “I’m a cocky asshole. An impatient, cocky asshole, that’s basically what it boils down to. I mean, the fucking woman of my dreams tells me she wants to be with me once and for all and instead of grabbing her and running away with her, I’m still stuck on the other guy. So I basically told her that I wasn’t sticking around to be jerked around again. And then I rejected her advances and she got mad…told me that she hated me. And then it kept escalating and escalating until she started screaming at me and hitting me and scratching me. And then it just came out. And I said it. And it was like the world ended and I wanted to die. Jesus, every person in her entire life has left her or abused her…and I’m no better. And she trusted me. She trusted me and she opened up to me, when she’d never done that before at all. She chose me. And I shit all over it.”
“So…what you said was during a moment of passion. In the heat of the moment.”
“I guess so, yeah.”
“You guess so?”
“Well, why the hell else would I say it? I’m not that person. That’s why I’m here!” He paused and he sighed. “I apologized to her. So many times. I held her and we cried together and I told her how sorry I was. I told her I didn’t mean it, she knows me. But then she said to me that on some level I had to mean it or else I wouldn’t have said it. She said it starts with the apologies and then it goes from there. And now she never wants to see me again. She doesn’t trust me anymore and she…I think she’s afraid of me, Dr. Thorne. That’s what upsets me the most. I was supposed to be the one person who could keep her safe. What good am I now?”
“Let me throw this at you, Eric. You said you’ve had some time to think. Why do you think you said it?”
“I didn’t mean it. I swear to God I didn’t mean it.”
“I know,” she nodded. “But why do you think you said it?”
“I don’t know,” he shook his head, letting his eyes dart around in thought. “I was angry. I was pissed. And I was hurt. I felt like…like she needed to feel like I was feeling, so I wanted to jerk her around the same way she jerked me. And when the argument got heated, it was like…like drawing a sword, you know? Like preparing the final blow to just end it all. I didn’t say it because I actually felt it. I said it because I was running out of weapons!”
“So you feel like, because you said that, you might become an abuser in your future.”
“I’m here because I want to make sure that I’m not that kind of person. She’s already made up her mind that I’m dead to her. I just need to know, for myself, that I’m not the monster I feel like I am.”
* * *
By the time Eric had come out of his first therapy session that Wednesday afternoon, he had no idea what to feel. He supposed he thought he would feel better and everything would be solved and he could find a way to move on with his life again, but it wasn’t that way at all. In fact, he ended up leaving with more on his mind than ever—and another appointment for the following week. As he drove home, weaving his oversized truck through the crowded December streets, he understood now why Juliet had quit therapy in the first place. He couldn’t imagine how daunting it must have been for her in her situation. This, then, made Eric feel even worse about himself for not being understanding the first time around. After all, if he had gotten over himself that day, he could have prevented all of this from happening.
It was all his fault.
He ruined everything he touched.
According to Dr. Thorne, she didn’t believe there was any truth to the horrible statement. That, deep down, Eric was simply someone who feared rejection, choosing a deflection method, and who probably suffered from a mild case of anxiety, likely stemming from something in his past, and then the second appointment was made.
In her opinion, the statement was nothing more than Eric grasping at straws to win an argument. Except that that wasn’t all it was. It was a detrimental blow to Juliet, a complete betrayal of her trust, and he left her heart bleeding and wounded when she shoved him out the door that day. That wasn’t the way things were supposed to be at all.
He longed to hold her so badly, he could barely sit still. She was all he wanted, she was all he needed. She made it all go away, all his doubts, all his insecurities, all of it. When he was with her, wrapped in each other’s arms, nothing else ever mattered. Time stopped. They were both completely safe.
Despite Dr. Thorne’s suggestion that he not try to contact Juliet, so that they could both reflect on themselves and take some time to simmer, he jerked his phone up out of his console anyway, and hit the button to call her. Naturally, it went to voicemail.
But she hadn’t blocked him.
“Jules. Juliet. I’m sorry. From the depths of my soul, I am sorry. I know those are mere words to you, but I mean them, and I can’t say them enough. Look, I just wanted you to know that…I’m trying. Okay? Even if you never speak to me again and forget I ever existed, I’m still trying. I’m getting better, I’m making it right. Somehow I’ll make it up to you, but…but right now all I have is my apology. And it’s okay if you never forgive me—I’m not asking for that. Just know that I will always be here for you, no matter what. You’ll always be my number one. Always.”
And then he terminated the call and threw the phone back down into the seat before he got choked up again.
* * *
The next few days were rough. And confusing. And annoying. And, somehow, completely beyond Eric’s control, regardless of the fact that it was his apartment. It started Wednesday night when Travis showed up at his door with an overnight bag. It wasn’t terribly uncommon for something like this to happen, so Eric didn’t question it, despite his suspicions.
Work was…a blur. Eric didn’t even want to be there and half the time he wasn’t, choosing to leave early and take half days, mainly so he could get a moment’s peace. Because, apparently, peace wasn’t something Eric had much of lately. For the next two nights, Barry and Jesse showed up, each conveniently needing a place to crash. Since Eric was lacking in both sleep and logic, he merely waved them in the door and pointed to the guest room.
During that time, between beer hazes and the yammering of one acquaintance or another on the other end of his couch, Juliet had never returned his calls. She never texted, never left any messages for him at work, made no efforts to contact him whatsoever. He expected it. He knew it would be this way. And he couldn’t blame her, either. After all, he wouldn’t return his calls. He wouldn’t trust him, he wouldn’t feel safe around him, he wouldn’t ever speak to him again. Why should she?
After a sleepless night on Saturday morning, once he was sure he’d heard Barry finally pack his shit up and leave, Eric grabbed for the phone and dialed Juliet’s number. If only to hear her on her voicemail, he would take what he could get. “Juliet,” he creaked out, his voice still groggy from sleep. “I miss you so much. I want to beg you for another chance so bad I can’t stand it, but I know I don’t have the right. I just need you, baby. God, I need you. I don’t know who I am anymore, not without you. Please, just…please. I’m so sorry.”
And then he terminated the call.
Jesus, he was pathetic.
Maybe this was why his track record with women was the way it was. Because he was a cocky, hotheaded asshole, who couldn’t watch his mouth, and was also a blubbering, pathetic, clingy mess of a sap. Women didn’t want desperate men. They wanted strong, confident men.
Except that Eric wasn’t that, either.
After finally crawling out of the bed long enough to shove some food down his throat and jam a needle into his arm, he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed, which he did. After all, he had nothing else to do that day. Everything was relatively silent, nobody tried to bother him.
Except for the doorbell.
The doorbell!
It took a second for the ringing to register and then he looked at his phone, remembering the voicemail he’d just left Juliet. No. No way, it couldn’t be…
With lightning speed, he jolted out of bed, jerked a shirt over his head, and raced for his door. As he eagerly unlocked the locks on his door, nearly tearing them off, he took a moment to peek out the keyhole to still his beating heart…and then his heart dropped into the floor.
Slinging the door open, Eric stared up at the hulk that stood on the other side with hard eyes that bore into him. “You look like holy shit,” Terrell’s bass greeted him.
Eric merely glared at him. He hoped his glare would have some kind of mind-altering effect on him or something because Eric was not in the mood for anymore bullshit.
“Put some gym clothes on,” Terrell demanded.
“Fuck this,” Eric murmured with a headshake as he attempted to close the door in Terrell’s face.
Except that Terrell’s extra-large Nike blocked the way. “Don’t make me do it for you. I’m twice your size and you know I can make you my bitch in a millisecond.”
It took a few milliseconds for the two friends to stare each other down before Eric finally relented. “Will it finally get you guys off my fucking back?”
“And shave that face while you’re at it. You look like a fucking caveman. When was your last haircut?”
As Terrell harped on Eric’s appearance, Eric ignored him and shuffled to his bedroom. Fucking gym clothes. Fucking really? Wasn’t anyone going to allow Eric to sleep anytime soon?
Including Juliet?
SO THE REPORT for the week went as follows: all Eric did was sleep, drink beer, mess around on his phone, and had to be nearly force-fed every night. He was an asshole the entire time Travis and Barry and Jesse had been there and he barely spoke two words to either of them. When Eric broke it off with Samantha, he had been a wreck, but it had been nothing like this. At least then he worked full days, shaved his face, and went to dinner with the guys.
This time all he seemed to want to do was hole up in his place—alone.
Terrell, however, wasn’t having it. The other guys could pat his head and baby him all they wanted, but not Terrell. This wasn’t Eric. This wasn’t the Eric he knew, this wasn’t his best friend. His best friend was cool and funny and oozed charisma.
The only thing this guy seemed to ooze was body odor.
And so Terrell decided to stage somewhat of a mini intervention. Get his brother and his friends together, onslaught Eric with support, and pull him out of his funk. He’d also invited Jason. Terrell still wasn’t terribly sure about the decision but some part of it felt like the right thing to do. After all, after talking to him for the past few nights, his presence might be of some use. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he and Juliet went back—they went way back and he seemed to know her like the back of his hand. “A lot has changed, but not everything,” Jason had told him. “I can still read her like a book, she’s still that same girl I knew in a lot of ways.”
As they walked into the gym on the Upper East Side, Eric was already complaining. “I’m really not in the mood for this shit. You can do what you want, I’ll just sit in the locker room or something.”
“No, you’re not. Where we’re going, you won’t have time to sit.”
“Fuck,” Eric muttered under his breath.
Upon entering the court, the wooden floors shining under the florescent light, the rest of the guys were already there and waiting. Jesse was nonchalantly dribbling a ball as he cut up with Travis.
“Ah, shit, man, come on,” Eric whined. “Haven’t I seen enough of these guys this week?”
“Oh, so you remember these guys? Your friends?” Terrell replied sarcastically.
And that’s when Eric stopped dead in his tracks. Terrell could practically see the tension that came from him. “That motherfucker is not my friend,” he said through gritted teeth. “He can rot in hell.” And then, to Terrell’s surprise, Eric pointed his finger at Jason and yelled out, “Hey, Hawaii! Is this how you wanna throw down? You want a piece of me? Right here, where she can’t see us? Come on!”
“Eric, what the fuck are you doing? That’s not what he’s here for—“
But before Terrell could stop him, Eric was already storming across the court. “He’s fucking Juliet. And he knows exactly who I am.”
The guys stood there and observed the scene approaching them, Jason towering over the other three. He stood there in a white sleeveless shirt and black track pants, his bulging biceps the current star of the show, and his green eyes bore into Eric as he approached. “I’m not fucking Juliet,” Jason’s bass, though calm, filled the room, nearly bouncing off the walls. “Get over yourself, guy. I’m not trying to start anything.”
“Yeah? Then what the fuck are you doing here? Huh?”
Reaching Eric, Terrell clasped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I know him through Juliet. He’s not fucking her, swear to God. But he’s here because nobody knows Juliet like he does. We’re all here because we’re concerned—“
“The fuck he does!” And that was when Eric went at Jason at full speed, a blur of blonde and navy blue.
Thankfully, their friends were faster and were able to separate the two before Eric reached him, but it didn’t stop Eric from fighting every step of the way. As they held him back, he desperately tried to wriggle himself out of their multiple grasps.
Wide-eyed, Jason took a step back. “So it’s that bad, huh?” He murmured to Terrell.
Terrell nodded and murmured back, “He’s losing his fucking mind. Nobody knows what else to do with him.”
“Nobody,” Eric seethed in the middle of his brother and his two friends. “Nobody loves her the way I do! Nobody!”
Eric’s face was red and he was trembling. The look in his eyes could only be described as murder and Jason glanced at Terrell in further shock. “Shit,” he hissed.
It took a few more minutes for the other guys to wrangle the beast that Eric Reynolds had become, and it finally took Travis to get in his twin’s face and shove him backward before muttering a couple of things to him quietly, before it seemed that a switch had flipped in Eric and the red finally drained from his face. His breathing steadily calmed, but the daggers for Jason remained in his icy blue eyes.
Terrell took a step forward to intervene, but Jason had already picked the abandoned basketball off the floor and chest tossed it at Eric, Eric catching it on reflex alone. “The fuck?” Eric said.
“You love her that much?” Jason challenged with a nod. “Play for her. Win the game. I’ll give you your brother and Terrell. I got Jesse and Barry.”
“I pick the fucking teams,” Eric replied.
Jason’s eyes widened in amusement. “Oh. Okay. So you don’t want your biggest support system on your side? Hey, that’s cool, too. Hey, I bet you and I alone could take these other four guys by ourselves. I mean, fuck, I’m the tallest guy here, right? I’m completely to your advantage—“
“Fuck you,” Eric spat. “Leave the teams the way they are. You want a fight, you’re gonna get one.”
Jason scoffed. “I never said I wanted a fight. I just said to play for her. After all, we’re here to play ball, right?’
“So, what, if your team wins, you get her? She’s a fucking human being, not a trophy--!”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Jason barked. “Don’t you think I already tried? Don’t you know that despite our history and any advances I’ve made, I’ll always play second string to you? She doesn’t want me, guy! She never did. She wants you!” He paused to take a breath as he looked Eric over. “And what the fuck you have that I don’t, I haven’t the slightest fucking clue. I mean, what woman wants…that, anyway? A man who wants nothing more than to live as a hollow version of himself. Who mopes around and whines and pities himself and who, according to available sources, has questionable hygiene lately. Yeah,” he nodded. “You’re a fucking catch, all right. All women want a little whiny-ass, insecure, bitch.”
“Whoa,” Barry said, stepping forward and holding out an arm. “Okay. Okay, I think we just need to chill out. Play some ball…”
The ball against the floor echoed off the gym walls as it fell from Eric’s hands and bounded away from the group. Travis bent over and caught it, twirling it between his fingers.
“He’s right,” Eric muttered as his eyes darted around on the floor, almost daring to meet the eyes of his friends. “I’m not strong enough for her.”
Terrell was feeling dizzy. He glanced at Jason, who returned the favor and met him with a wink and a twitch of his lip. If Eric was going to attack him, he’d just given him prime ammo to do so. After all, if someone had said something like that to Terrell, they’d already be in an ambulance and halfway to the hospital by now.
But instead, Eric merely sank into the floor and, one by one, the rest of the guys took a seat in a small circle, and they began lazily rolling the ball around the circle to each other.
“Except that you are strong enough,” Travis said. “I know you are. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
“No,” Eric shook her head. “She needs a fucking…someone solid as a rock. Someone who can’t be budged or moved. I just…I care too much.”
“She needs someone who cares,” Travis replied.
“Apparently she doesn’t!” Eric argued. “At least not from me. She never wants to see me again!”
“Look, the both of you were angry—“
“It’s not that simple,” Eric sighed. “I said…the number one thing that should never be said to her. She doesn’t trust me. She’s afraid of me, she thinks I’m a monster.” He looked over at his brother. “You don’t understand, I don’t even deserve to be walking the earth right now.”
“I thought you were never going to speak like that again?” Travis replied darkly.
Eric shook his head and stared at the floor. “I don’t know how else to feel. Or what else to do. I just don’t know.” Then he sighed and addressed the rest of the group. “I started going to therapy on Wednesday. I, uh, I wasn’t going to say anything. I thought it would make me feel better, but I just feel…worse. And pathetic for even going.”
“Hey,” Barry chuckled nervously. “I’ve been going to therapy for years.”
The entire group fell silent and looked on in shock at Barry.
“You?” Terrell asked. “You’re going to therapy?”
Barry shrugged. “You know. It helps keep me grounded, you know? I can get things off my chest, keeps me straight.”
Finally, a smirk crossed Eric’s lips. “You’re the last person I’d expect to have a therapist.”
“We all have our secrets, I guess,” Barry shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like I had a shit childhood growing up or I’m bipolar or a recovering addict or some shit like that. It’s nothing like that. I just…you know, had some questions about life once. Decided to go to one. And I’ve been going for the past eight years now. No big deal, you know?”
“Nothing wrong with that, man,” Jesse spoke up, as he reached over and clasped his friend’s shoulder. “Nothing wrong at all.”
“Thanks,” Barry nodded.
Barry, huh? Bulky, bald, and obnoxiously loud. Seeing a therapist. Who’d have thought it?
“Look,” Terrell said. “We’re here because we’re concerned about you. Your behavior, it’s…scary, to say the least. We just want you to know that we’re here, man. We’re not gonna let you go down like that. Not even Jason, over here.”
Jason nodded. “I’m on your side, bro. I know what it feels like to be rejected by Juliet Carson. Believe me. Ten years ago, when we worked at the bar together, she and Beth and I—three musketeers, dude. But Jules was something else and I had it so bad for her. But she would never take me as more than a friend. And then, ten years later, we cross paths again, still no more than a friend. She told me about you. Called you ‘perfect.’” Jason smiled and shook his head. “That night she was supposed to meet your family? I ran into her on the street and she had dinner with me and my son. I stuck up for you, dude. Because I could tell that you’re someone very important to her. And she never had a lot of important people in her life, you know? So I had to make a choice—and I chose her happiness. I practically gave up. I don’t know why you feel the need to keep fighting me.”
“Because you’re better than me,” Eric murmured. “In practically every way.”
“Not in the eyes of Juliet Carson, apparently.”
“It’s bad, we get it,” Jesse chimed in. “You feel…like the scum of the earth, like the lowest of the low. Rejection sucks, especially when…you know, when you think you love her. But life keeps going on around you, it doesn’t stop. Feeling sorry for yourself for awhile, sure. Okay. Everybody’s entitled to that. But that’s not going to stop your job. Or the bills or the traffic on the street below your window. Days are going to pass regardless, nobody’s waiting on you to get your shit together out there. You can’t choose to miss life. You can take some time off, but that’s it. You still get hungry, you still gotta piss, and your hair’s gonna continue to grow. Life’s not taking a hiatus because you can’t handle it. The only way life is going to get easier for you is for you to suck it up and live it. Because you still have to. And that’s what we’re here for. If we gotta drag you out for dinner or…or to play some ball or something, just say the word, dude.”
“I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore,” Eric confessed. “Before Jules came along, I thought I finally had it all together. I had it all, man. I was happy. And then she blew into my life.”
“Well. You were happy before…” Barry suggested.
“But I was happier with her,” Eric glared.
“You sure?” Travis asked. “Because, truth be told, you’ve been through the fucking ringer—“
“You guys don’t get it,” Eric snapped. “You don’t know her. She’s…hilarious. She’s so witty. And she’s caring and she’s compassionate and she’s…god, we talk for hours. I’ve never had so much fun just simply speaking to another person. Sometimes I feel like she is me. She gets me like nobody else does, she’s…perfect for me.”
“And she feels the same way about herself that you feel about yourself right now,” Travis finished.
Eric’s jaw dropped for a moment and he blinked in surprise. In that moment, it was like you could see the switch flip in him. The switch of realization. The potential epiphany, if you will.
“Eric?” Terrell pressed.
“Shit,” Eric whispered. “I’m a sniveling little shit. Fuck, no wonder she doesn’t want to stick around. Who the fuck feels secure with a sniveling little shit? I’m sitting here…fucking playing the victim when the real victim here is her, not me. She’s the one who got hurt. I’m the one who did it. I mean, let’s be honest, I have no chance with her ever again, that much I know, but—but I don’t want to be that person. I don’t.”
“Good,” Travis nodded.
“You know, if…if she ever misses me and wants to come back, I…I want to be worthy of her. I want to be the best I can be.”
Terrell shrugged. “That’s one way to look at it, sure…”
“I can about guarantee she misses you,” Travis nodded.
“She’s probably doing exactly what I should be doing right now. She’s probably moving on with her life.”
Jason nodded. “Knowing her, you’re probably right.”
Eric’s eyes met Jason’s and Terrell could see the hurt. Blunt as he was, Jason may have said the words Eric needed to hear. Except that the words that came out of Eric’s mouth next let Terrell know that he wasn’t quite out of the woods, yet. “You think she’s happy?”
Jason let out a sigh and glanced at the floor below him as he shook his head. Then he looked up at Eric again. “I’m not sure she’s ever been happy.”
“Look, let’s play some ball,” Travis suggested as he stood up and snatched the ball from Jesse’s hands.
One by one, the rest of the guys followed suit and, before long, the gym was full of the bouncing of balls, shouting of men, and the squeaking of rubber soles against hardwood. It was a good afternoon, Terrell determined. Very revealing. And they had a lot of fun.
Eric would need many more afternoons like these.
IT HAD BEEN a week since the fight with Eric.
The fight that had ended so tragically. The fight that had destroyed what was left of Juliet’s fragile heart. She had only just begun to acknowledge that she had one. Now she was facing the fatal consequences of giving it away, having learned that she’d been doing it right all along—get what you want, but don’t make it personal.
It was Saturday night and Beth sat beside Juliet on her couch. They sat with various forms of chocolate candy between them and Juliet was mindlessly popping the small morsels into her mouth as she stared intently at the screen.
If you concentrate hard enough, your mind won’t wander. She tried to live by this every day.
Out of the corner of her eye, Juliet could tell Beth was restless. Beth had been on her best behavior, though, since she’d shown up armed with Christmas chocolate and red wine, and hadn’t forced Juliet to speak about anything. It was coming, though, at any moment.
On the screen was a classic Christmas movie. It was a comedy and it kept Juliet amused. What didn’t amuse her, however, were the thoughts that crept up every few minutes about how much fun she would be having if she were watching it with Eric. She would laugh hysterically through the whole thing, and she knew it, but not at the movie itself. She would laugh at Eric’s horrible impersonations, perfectly-timed jokes, and witty commentary. He’d wink at her and if she wasn’t already wrapped in his arms, he would pull her close and make it happen.
The thought of his arms, alone, sent chills through her body and filled her heart with longing. She’d never felt such safety and warmth as she did when she was with him. And then…he had to go and say those words. And she hated the way she missed him anyway.
Despite her shattered heart and her shattered trust and her shattered world, Juliet listened to every single one of Eric’s voicemails, even though she knew she shouldn’t. He’d been calling at least twice a day, apparently accepting of the fact that she wouldn’t answer. After the first couple of days, he’d stopped begging for return contact and, instead, just spoke to her voicemail until it cut him off. The minutes at a time that they ran were never long enough and sometimes Juliet would find herself replaying them several times over.
She would do this at night, late, when she was alone and in the dark. Sometimes she felt guilty of taking advantage of his messages and not offering a return call until she remembered the reason why she stopped speaking to him in the first place.
And that was when she cried herself to sleep.
Dr. Leslie Thorne was turning out to be a bigger help than Juliet thought she would be. At the moment, Juliet went to two therapy sessions per week and, while talking about her past was still uncomfortable and she was nowhere near her intended goal, she was proud of her baby-step progress. Already she was feeling slightly stronger and more confident in her own skin. She hated to admit that she regretted quitting the first time.
Mostly because quitting eventually led to seeing Eric Reynolds’s true colors.
Juliet huffed as she popped another chocolate in her mouth, forcing her thoughts away to concentrate on the movie. Beth, however, had finally had enough.
“Jules,” she said quietly.
Juliet side-glanced over at her best friend, the brown-eyed beauty with the fine, ombre waves and the bangs brushing her brow. Even in her boyfriend’s hoodie and a pair of ripped jeans, she looked like a supermodel.
Beth’s boyfriend. Eric’s twin. Bleh.
“Mm,” Juliet replied unenthusiastically.
“Travis and I are having a Christmas party.”
This prompted the wine. Juliet savagely guzzled half the glass. She knew what this was about—and she wasn’t ready for it.
“Is that so?”
“Mmhmm,” Beth nodded.
Juliet returned the nod mindlessly as she returned her attention to the screen.
“Jules,” Beth pressed.
“Hm?”
“You’re not even going to acknowledge it, are you?”
“What I’m doing, is trying not to acknowledge the obvious.”
Beth let out an exasperated sigh.
“Come on,” Juliet finally snapped. “Do you realize what you’re asking me to do?”
“Yes,” Beth snapped back with a glare. “I’m asking you to put aside your emotions for one evening and actually be my best friend for once.”
Juliet gaped at Beth in shock. “For once--?”
“Yes,” Beth confirmed. “I’m taking a back seat to Eric even when you’re trying to avoid him! But I need you, Juliet. As my oldest and dearest friend, I am throwing my first Christmas party with a man that I think I might be falling in love with—for real this time—and I really need your support. I refuse to take a back seat to Eric this time.”
Juliet continued to stare at Beth. Back seat to Eric? Was that how Beth felt? Beth should never be the back seat to anyone in Juliet’s life. Beth was the only person Juliet had ever trusted and depended on—and still was. Had Juliet really been that shitty of a friend lately, as she lived to wallow in her own self-pity?
As she stared at her, her mind quickly began to retrace their friendship and Juliet was appalled by the rapid conclusion she was coming to. Beth had taken her in when she had nowhere else to go. Beth had risked a future and a career and her life savings to go into business with Juliet. Beth did the company’s dirty work, she picked up the slack when Juliet couldn’t handle it, and she’d…come in second to Eric ever since they’d met, picking up all of Juliet’s broken pieces along the way. And what had Juliet ever done for Beth in return?
As Juliet came up short on an answer, she could feel the blood drain from her face. “I’m a horrible friend,” she breathed.
“What?” Beth asked. “No—“
“All I know how to do is take. And make excuses…”
“Jules, that is not true—“
“Yes, it is,” Juliet declared with a growing determination. “Beth, I’ve wronged you over the years and especially recently with all this…shit.”
Beth shook her head fervently. “No. You really haven’t—“
Juliet raised her chin. “I have. I’ve been a bad friend. But not anymore. Not only am I coming to your party, but I want to help plan and I want to decorate. As a matter of fact,” she paused to lean over the arm of her couch and retrieve a pad of paper from the end table drawer. “Tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen.”
Beth smiled, the blush rising to her cheeks. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. And I will. Let’s just say I’m feeling the Christmas spirit.”
“Juliet,” Beth’s tone dropped. “I was a little…blunt a minute ago. But, seriously, what about Eric? He’s going to be there. You know he will.”
Juliet shrugged as she jotted notes down on the paper. “I know. But you’re right. And Dr. Thorne is right. I have to face it eventually. I mean, I won’t be able to avoid him forever, right? Might as well start with a blood stream flowing with Christmas cheer.”
As Juliet winked at Beth, Beth giggled. When she calmed, “So…Dr. Thorne, huh?”
“Yeah,” Juliet nodded with a smile. “Yeah, she’s not so bad. She makes a lot of really good points, makes me see things in ways I’d have never thought of. Acted funny when I mentioned Eric’s name once, but who wouldn’t be surprised that a man would want someone with my baggage, right?”
“Jules…”
“But it’s okay. It still hurts and I’m sure it always will, but I’m learning to cope. Guess I can test my new skills at your party.”
“So this is it, then,” Beth concluded gently. “No chance of reconciliation, no…”
Juliet shook her head as she continued her note-taking. “I already let one person in my life who I thought was different and…um. I won’t put myself in that position again.”
“Jules, he won’t hurt you!” Beth exploded, exasperated.
Finally, Juliet ceased her writing and locked her eyes with Beth’s. “Except that he already has.”
Eric sat across from Dr. Leslie Thorne and stared at her. He was trying to form the words to answer her question, but he couldn’t come up with anything. He searched her face, her blonde hair, the green eyes that hid behind her glasses, for some kind of clue to what his answer should be but he…had nothing. His throat felt like sand.
“Eric,” she repeated. “Why are we here today?”
And then, finally, he spat it out. “Because I think I might have the capability of abuse. Of…of, you know, domestic abuse.”
Dr. Thorne adjusted the glasses on her face and sat back in the armchair across from him, and rested her hand on the thigh of her dark green pants. “The capability? Have you ever hit a loved one? A spouse? Or are you referring to emotional--?”
“Physical,” he interrupted. “And…and, no, I’ve never hit anyone. I never wanted to, I’ve never felt the urge or the desire, in fact the whole idea completely sickens me, but…I think it could be coming.”
“All right,” she conceded. “Would you like to start from the beginning?”
Letting out a breath, he rubbed his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees. “To be honest, I’m not really sure where the beginning is anymore. Um, there’s a woman. And she’s…she’s wonderful. And beautiful and intelligent and—God, I’ve got it so bad for her. I’m falling so hard, she’s everything I ever wanted and I can—I can see myself with her. Forever.”
“That sounds lovely,” Dr. Thorne smiled.
He glanced up at her. “It is. But…but she’s dealing with her own stuff. She had it real bad growing up and she was married once and she’s…she’s an abuse survivor. Child abuse, domestic abuse, all of it. And she hasn’t…she hasn’t been in a stable relationship since. On purpose. And when I saw her for the first time,” he paused to smile, losing himself in his own words. “Her smile changed my life. And I knew it right then, you know? In an instant. Anyway, we didn’t actually meet until sometime later and it was like we’d known each other for years. She was scared and I was nervous, but she finally spoke to me. And then she let me kiss her. And then she sat there and told me her entire life story and we talked all night long. It was the best night of my life.”
“So she reached out to you. Someone with her history probably wouldn’t reach out to someone so easily. She must have sensed something in you.”
“All I want to do is take care of her,” Eric breathed. “It’s all I ever wanted since the moment I laid eyes on her, even before I knew anything about her. I want to make her happy, I want her to smile. I want her to feel secure. But I can’t—I don’t—I don’t feel like I can make her feel any of that and I’m trying so hard to take it slow for her because of her fragile state because that’s what she said she needed. Juliet is my entire world. I would do anything for her.”
Finally, Dr. Thorne blinked her eyes and shifted in her seat. “Juliet?” She asked as she flipped through the book in her lap. “Juliet? That’s her name?”
“Uh, yeah,” Eric replied warily. “Is there a problem?”
“No,” Dr. Thorne smiled, re-crossing her legs and adjusting her glasses. “No problem at all, I was just making sure I was keeping up.”
Eric nodded. “Okay. Anyway, it’s been difficult for us. I just want her and she…is apparently dealing with her past for the very first time. She doesn’t know which end is up half the time, she has nightmares, she calls me in the middle of the night, she’ll—she’ll smile one minute and be crying the next, she wants me and then she pushes me away, it’s been…one hell of a ride. And then we had an argument.” Eric sucked in a breath and sat back on the sofa he sat on. “And it was bad. Really bad. I had seen her at the gym with a male friend of hers—just a friend—after I had just…I walked out on her.”
“You walked out on her…before or after the argument?”
“There was an argument before that one, too.”
“Oh,” Dr. Thorne nodded.
“Actually, no,” Eric shook his head. “No, that’s--it really wasn’t, it was…all she needed was for me to understand her and instead I was selfish. And then I walked out on her.”
“Therefore, ending your relationship.”
“I don’t think I’d call what we were in a ‘committed’ relationship. I want to be in one. And I think she…I don’t know,” he breathed. “Anyway, at this point, I screwed up. Then I saw her at the gym with her friend. And I knew he was her friend, I knew it, deep down I knew it when I saw them, but…I was so angry. How could she beg me not to leave her that day that I did and then turn around and go out with another man? It didn’t make sense. And for as long as she was jerking me around? I mean, come on.”
“So you feel led on.”
“Well, I thought I did. In the moment. Before I had time to think about it. So I showed up at her apartment later that day and I accused her of having a boyfriend and then we…we slept together and she told me she wanted to commit to me. That she wanted to start over, make it right. She missed me.”
“A step in the right direction?”
“I was still angry over the guy. I just went over in my head how many times this has happened—reeling me in and pushing me away, and I grew impatient and I rejected her. And then we argued again. And then I…in the heat of the moment, it flew out of my mouth…”
Eric paused to catch his breath. His throat was locking up and there was no way he was going to allow himself to cry in front of a stranger. It was bad enough that he cried as it was and that was better done in the safety of his own home. Alone.
“I sympathized with him,” he continued. “Theoretically. With that monster, with her dead husband who…who beat and raped her on a regular basis.” He had a hard time looking into the therapist’s eyes at the moment. “I’ve been so sick over it since it happened. Physically sick. I’ve vomited…countless times. I can’t sleep and I’m restless and I’m just so…”
“What exactly did you say?” She pressed gently.
Eric sucked in a nose full of air and clasped his hands together. His heart raced and sweat formed on his brow. “I told her that it was no wonder he smacked her around a little bit because she’s crazy as hell.”
And at that, he lost it. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. The tears flowed from his eyes and he buried his head in his hands as he rocked against his knees. Dr. Thorne sat there in silence and didn’t try to subdue him, instead allowing him to shed his tears and wallow in his self-pity. For several minutes, he dug his palms into his eye sockets and wiped his nose with his sleeve. Once he’d finally decided he’d made enough of a fool of himself, he dried himself up and straightened back up again.
“She never wants to see me again,” he croaked.
“Eric, what was the nature of your argument?” Dr. Thorne asked gently.
His eyes still wet, he sniffed, and then he scoffed a laugh, sitting back against the sofa once again. “I’m a cocky asshole. An impatient, cocky asshole, that’s basically what it boils down to. I mean, the fucking woman of my dreams tells me she wants to be with me once and for all and instead of grabbing her and running away with her, I’m still stuck on the other guy. So I basically told her that I wasn’t sticking around to be jerked around again. And then I rejected her advances and she got mad…told me that she hated me. And then it kept escalating and escalating until she started screaming at me and hitting me and scratching me. And then it just came out. And I said it. And it was like the world ended and I wanted to die. Jesus, every person in her entire life has left her or abused her…and I’m no better. And she trusted me. She trusted me and she opened up to me, when she’d never done that before at all. She chose me. And I shit all over it.”
“So…what you said was during a moment of passion. In the heat of the moment.”
“I guess so, yeah.”
“You guess so?”
“Well, why the hell else would I say it? I’m not that person. That’s why I’m here!” He paused and he sighed. “I apologized to her. So many times. I held her and we cried together and I told her how sorry I was. I told her I didn’t mean it, she knows me. But then she said to me that on some level I had to mean it or else I wouldn’t have said it. She said it starts with the apologies and then it goes from there. And now she never wants to see me again. She doesn’t trust me anymore and she…I think she’s afraid of me, Dr. Thorne. That’s what upsets me the most. I was supposed to be the one person who could keep her safe. What good am I now?”
“Let me throw this at you, Eric. You said you’ve had some time to think. Why do you think you said it?”
“I didn’t mean it. I swear to God I didn’t mean it.”
“I know,” she nodded. “But why do you think you said it?”
“I don’t know,” he shook his head, letting his eyes dart around in thought. “I was angry. I was pissed. And I was hurt. I felt like…like she needed to feel like I was feeling, so I wanted to jerk her around the same way she jerked me. And when the argument got heated, it was like…like drawing a sword, you know? Like preparing the final blow to just end it all. I didn’t say it because I actually felt it. I said it because I was running out of weapons!”
“So you feel like, because you said that, you might become an abuser in your future.”
“I’m here because I want to make sure that I’m not that kind of person. She’s already made up her mind that I’m dead to her. I just need to know, for myself, that I’m not the monster I feel like I am.”
* * *
By the time Eric had come out of his first therapy session that Wednesday afternoon, he had no idea what to feel. He supposed he thought he would feel better and everything would be solved and he could find a way to move on with his life again, but it wasn’t that way at all. In fact, he ended up leaving with more on his mind than ever—and another appointment for the following week. As he drove home, weaving his oversized truck through the crowded December streets, he understood now why Juliet had quit therapy in the first place. He couldn’t imagine how daunting it must have been for her in her situation. This, then, made Eric feel even worse about himself for not being understanding the first time around. After all, if he had gotten over himself that day, he could have prevented all of this from happening.
It was all his fault.
He ruined everything he touched.
According to Dr. Thorne, she didn’t believe there was any truth to the horrible statement. That, deep down, Eric was simply someone who feared rejection, choosing a deflection method, and who probably suffered from a mild case of anxiety, likely stemming from something in his past, and then the second appointment was made.
In her opinion, the statement was nothing more than Eric grasping at straws to win an argument. Except that that wasn’t all it was. It was a detrimental blow to Juliet, a complete betrayal of her trust, and he left her heart bleeding and wounded when she shoved him out the door that day. That wasn’t the way things were supposed to be at all.
He longed to hold her so badly, he could barely sit still. She was all he wanted, she was all he needed. She made it all go away, all his doubts, all his insecurities, all of it. When he was with her, wrapped in each other’s arms, nothing else ever mattered. Time stopped. They were both completely safe.
Despite Dr. Thorne’s suggestion that he not try to contact Juliet, so that they could both reflect on themselves and take some time to simmer, he jerked his phone up out of his console anyway, and hit the button to call her. Naturally, it went to voicemail.
But she hadn’t blocked him.
“Jules. Juliet. I’m sorry. From the depths of my soul, I am sorry. I know those are mere words to you, but I mean them, and I can’t say them enough. Look, I just wanted you to know that…I’m trying. Okay? Even if you never speak to me again and forget I ever existed, I’m still trying. I’m getting better, I’m making it right. Somehow I’ll make it up to you, but…but right now all I have is my apology. And it’s okay if you never forgive me—I’m not asking for that. Just know that I will always be here for you, no matter what. You’ll always be my number one. Always.”
And then he terminated the call and threw the phone back down into the seat before he got choked up again.
* * *
The next few days were rough. And confusing. And annoying. And, somehow, completely beyond Eric’s control, regardless of the fact that it was his apartment. It started Wednesday night when Travis showed up at his door with an overnight bag. It wasn’t terribly uncommon for something like this to happen, so Eric didn’t question it, despite his suspicions.
Work was…a blur. Eric didn’t even want to be there and half the time he wasn’t, choosing to leave early and take half days, mainly so he could get a moment’s peace. Because, apparently, peace wasn’t something Eric had much of lately. For the next two nights, Barry and Jesse showed up, each conveniently needing a place to crash. Since Eric was lacking in both sleep and logic, he merely waved them in the door and pointed to the guest room.
During that time, between beer hazes and the yammering of one acquaintance or another on the other end of his couch, Juliet had never returned his calls. She never texted, never left any messages for him at work, made no efforts to contact him whatsoever. He expected it. He knew it would be this way. And he couldn’t blame her, either. After all, he wouldn’t return his calls. He wouldn’t trust him, he wouldn’t feel safe around him, he wouldn’t ever speak to him again. Why should she?
After a sleepless night on Saturday morning, once he was sure he’d heard Barry finally pack his shit up and leave, Eric grabbed for the phone and dialed Juliet’s number. If only to hear her on her voicemail, he would take what he could get. “Juliet,” he creaked out, his voice still groggy from sleep. “I miss you so much. I want to beg you for another chance so bad I can’t stand it, but I know I don’t have the right. I just need you, baby. God, I need you. I don’t know who I am anymore, not without you. Please, just…please. I’m so sorry.”
And then he terminated the call.
Jesus, he was pathetic.
Maybe this was why his track record with women was the way it was. Because he was a cocky, hotheaded asshole, who couldn’t watch his mouth, and was also a blubbering, pathetic, clingy mess of a sap. Women didn’t want desperate men. They wanted strong, confident men.
Except that Eric wasn’t that, either.
After finally crawling out of the bed long enough to shove some food down his throat and jam a needle into his arm, he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed, which he did. After all, he had nothing else to do that day. Everything was relatively silent, nobody tried to bother him.
Except for the doorbell.
The doorbell!
It took a second for the ringing to register and then he looked at his phone, remembering the voicemail he’d just left Juliet. No. No way, it couldn’t be…
With lightning speed, he jolted out of bed, jerked a shirt over his head, and raced for his door. As he eagerly unlocked the locks on his door, nearly tearing them off, he took a moment to peek out the keyhole to still his beating heart…and then his heart dropped into the floor.
Slinging the door open, Eric stared up at the hulk that stood on the other side with hard eyes that bore into him. “You look like holy shit,” Terrell’s bass greeted him.
Eric merely glared at him. He hoped his glare would have some kind of mind-altering effect on him or something because Eric was not in the mood for anymore bullshit.
“Put some gym clothes on,” Terrell demanded.
“Fuck this,” Eric murmured with a headshake as he attempted to close the door in Terrell’s face.
Except that Terrell’s extra-large Nike blocked the way. “Don’t make me do it for you. I’m twice your size and you know I can make you my bitch in a millisecond.”
It took a few milliseconds for the two friends to stare each other down before Eric finally relented. “Will it finally get you guys off my fucking back?”
“And shave that face while you’re at it. You look like a fucking caveman. When was your last haircut?”
As Terrell harped on Eric’s appearance, Eric ignored him and shuffled to his bedroom. Fucking gym clothes. Fucking really? Wasn’t anyone going to allow Eric to sleep anytime soon?
Including Juliet?
SO THE REPORT for the week went as follows: all Eric did was sleep, drink beer, mess around on his phone, and had to be nearly force-fed every night. He was an asshole the entire time Travis and Barry and Jesse had been there and he barely spoke two words to either of them. When Eric broke it off with Samantha, he had been a wreck, but it had been nothing like this. At least then he worked full days, shaved his face, and went to dinner with the guys.
This time all he seemed to want to do was hole up in his place—alone.
Terrell, however, wasn’t having it. The other guys could pat his head and baby him all they wanted, but not Terrell. This wasn’t Eric. This wasn’t the Eric he knew, this wasn’t his best friend. His best friend was cool and funny and oozed charisma.
The only thing this guy seemed to ooze was body odor.
And so Terrell decided to stage somewhat of a mini intervention. Get his brother and his friends together, onslaught Eric with support, and pull him out of his funk. He’d also invited Jason. Terrell still wasn’t terribly sure about the decision but some part of it felt like the right thing to do. After all, after talking to him for the past few nights, his presence might be of some use. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he and Juliet went back—they went way back and he seemed to know her like the back of his hand. “A lot has changed, but not everything,” Jason had told him. “I can still read her like a book, she’s still that same girl I knew in a lot of ways.”
As they walked into the gym on the Upper East Side, Eric was already complaining. “I’m really not in the mood for this shit. You can do what you want, I’ll just sit in the locker room or something.”
“No, you’re not. Where we’re going, you won’t have time to sit.”
“Fuck,” Eric muttered under his breath.
Upon entering the court, the wooden floors shining under the florescent light, the rest of the guys were already there and waiting. Jesse was nonchalantly dribbling a ball as he cut up with Travis.
“Ah, shit, man, come on,” Eric whined. “Haven’t I seen enough of these guys this week?”
“Oh, so you remember these guys? Your friends?” Terrell replied sarcastically.
And that’s when Eric stopped dead in his tracks. Terrell could practically see the tension that came from him. “That motherfucker is not my friend,” he said through gritted teeth. “He can rot in hell.” And then, to Terrell’s surprise, Eric pointed his finger at Jason and yelled out, “Hey, Hawaii! Is this how you wanna throw down? You want a piece of me? Right here, where she can’t see us? Come on!”
“Eric, what the fuck are you doing? That’s not what he’s here for—“
But before Terrell could stop him, Eric was already storming across the court. “He’s fucking Juliet. And he knows exactly who I am.”
The guys stood there and observed the scene approaching them, Jason towering over the other three. He stood there in a white sleeveless shirt and black track pants, his bulging biceps the current star of the show, and his green eyes bore into Eric as he approached. “I’m not fucking Juliet,” Jason’s bass, though calm, filled the room, nearly bouncing off the walls. “Get over yourself, guy. I’m not trying to start anything.”
“Yeah? Then what the fuck are you doing here? Huh?”
Reaching Eric, Terrell clasped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I know him through Juliet. He’s not fucking her, swear to God. But he’s here because nobody knows Juliet like he does. We’re all here because we’re concerned—“
“The fuck he does!” And that was when Eric went at Jason at full speed, a blur of blonde and navy blue.
Thankfully, their friends were faster and were able to separate the two before Eric reached him, but it didn’t stop Eric from fighting every step of the way. As they held him back, he desperately tried to wriggle himself out of their multiple grasps.
Wide-eyed, Jason took a step back. “So it’s that bad, huh?” He murmured to Terrell.
Terrell nodded and murmured back, “He’s losing his fucking mind. Nobody knows what else to do with him.”
“Nobody,” Eric seethed in the middle of his brother and his two friends. “Nobody loves her the way I do! Nobody!”
Eric’s face was red and he was trembling. The look in his eyes could only be described as murder and Jason glanced at Terrell in further shock. “Shit,” he hissed.
It took a few more minutes for the other guys to wrangle the beast that Eric Reynolds had become, and it finally took Travis to get in his twin’s face and shove him backward before muttering a couple of things to him quietly, before it seemed that a switch had flipped in Eric and the red finally drained from his face. His breathing steadily calmed, but the daggers for Jason remained in his icy blue eyes.
Terrell took a step forward to intervene, but Jason had already picked the abandoned basketball off the floor and chest tossed it at Eric, Eric catching it on reflex alone. “The fuck?” Eric said.
“You love her that much?” Jason challenged with a nod. “Play for her. Win the game. I’ll give you your brother and Terrell. I got Jesse and Barry.”
“I pick the fucking teams,” Eric replied.
Jason’s eyes widened in amusement. “Oh. Okay. So you don’t want your biggest support system on your side? Hey, that’s cool, too. Hey, I bet you and I alone could take these other four guys by ourselves. I mean, fuck, I’m the tallest guy here, right? I’m completely to your advantage—“
“Fuck you,” Eric spat. “Leave the teams the way they are. You want a fight, you’re gonna get one.”
Jason scoffed. “I never said I wanted a fight. I just said to play for her. After all, we’re here to play ball, right?’
“So, what, if your team wins, you get her? She’s a fucking human being, not a trophy--!”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Jason barked. “Don’t you think I already tried? Don’t you know that despite our history and any advances I’ve made, I’ll always play second string to you? She doesn’t want me, guy! She never did. She wants you!” He paused to take a breath as he looked Eric over. “And what the fuck you have that I don’t, I haven’t the slightest fucking clue. I mean, what woman wants…that, anyway? A man who wants nothing more than to live as a hollow version of himself. Who mopes around and whines and pities himself and who, according to available sources, has questionable hygiene lately. Yeah,” he nodded. “You’re a fucking catch, all right. All women want a little whiny-ass, insecure, bitch.”
“Whoa,” Barry said, stepping forward and holding out an arm. “Okay. Okay, I think we just need to chill out. Play some ball…”
The ball against the floor echoed off the gym walls as it fell from Eric’s hands and bounded away from the group. Travis bent over and caught it, twirling it between his fingers.
“He’s right,” Eric muttered as his eyes darted around on the floor, almost daring to meet the eyes of his friends. “I’m not strong enough for her.”
Terrell was feeling dizzy. He glanced at Jason, who returned the favor and met him with a wink and a twitch of his lip. If Eric was going to attack him, he’d just given him prime ammo to do so. After all, if someone had said something like that to Terrell, they’d already be in an ambulance and halfway to the hospital by now.
But instead, Eric merely sank into the floor and, one by one, the rest of the guys took a seat in a small circle, and they began lazily rolling the ball around the circle to each other.
“Except that you are strong enough,” Travis said. “I know you are. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
“No,” Eric shook her head. “She needs a fucking…someone solid as a rock. Someone who can’t be budged or moved. I just…I care too much.”
“She needs someone who cares,” Travis replied.
“Apparently she doesn’t!” Eric argued. “At least not from me. She never wants to see me again!”
“Look, the both of you were angry—“
“It’s not that simple,” Eric sighed. “I said…the number one thing that should never be said to her. She doesn’t trust me. She’s afraid of me, she thinks I’m a monster.” He looked over at his brother. “You don’t understand, I don’t even deserve to be walking the earth right now.”
“I thought you were never going to speak like that again?” Travis replied darkly.
Eric shook his head and stared at the floor. “I don’t know how else to feel. Or what else to do. I just don’t know.” Then he sighed and addressed the rest of the group. “I started going to therapy on Wednesday. I, uh, I wasn’t going to say anything. I thought it would make me feel better, but I just feel…worse. And pathetic for even going.”
“Hey,” Barry chuckled nervously. “I’ve been going to therapy for years.”
The entire group fell silent and looked on in shock at Barry.
“You?” Terrell asked. “You’re going to therapy?”
Barry shrugged. “You know. It helps keep me grounded, you know? I can get things off my chest, keeps me straight.”
Finally, a smirk crossed Eric’s lips. “You’re the last person I’d expect to have a therapist.”
“We all have our secrets, I guess,” Barry shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like I had a shit childhood growing up or I’m bipolar or a recovering addict or some shit like that. It’s nothing like that. I just…you know, had some questions about life once. Decided to go to one. And I’ve been going for the past eight years now. No big deal, you know?”
“Nothing wrong with that, man,” Jesse spoke up, as he reached over and clasped his friend’s shoulder. “Nothing wrong at all.”
“Thanks,” Barry nodded.
Barry, huh? Bulky, bald, and obnoxiously loud. Seeing a therapist. Who’d have thought it?
“Look,” Terrell said. “We’re here because we’re concerned about you. Your behavior, it’s…scary, to say the least. We just want you to know that we’re here, man. We’re not gonna let you go down like that. Not even Jason, over here.”
Jason nodded. “I’m on your side, bro. I know what it feels like to be rejected by Juliet Carson. Believe me. Ten years ago, when we worked at the bar together, she and Beth and I—three musketeers, dude. But Jules was something else and I had it so bad for her. But she would never take me as more than a friend. And then, ten years later, we cross paths again, still no more than a friend. She told me about you. Called you ‘perfect.’” Jason smiled and shook his head. “That night she was supposed to meet your family? I ran into her on the street and she had dinner with me and my son. I stuck up for you, dude. Because I could tell that you’re someone very important to her. And she never had a lot of important people in her life, you know? So I had to make a choice—and I chose her happiness. I practically gave up. I don’t know why you feel the need to keep fighting me.”
“Because you’re better than me,” Eric murmured. “In practically every way.”
“Not in the eyes of Juliet Carson, apparently.”
“It’s bad, we get it,” Jesse chimed in. “You feel…like the scum of the earth, like the lowest of the low. Rejection sucks, especially when…you know, when you think you love her. But life keeps going on around you, it doesn’t stop. Feeling sorry for yourself for awhile, sure. Okay. Everybody’s entitled to that. But that’s not going to stop your job. Or the bills or the traffic on the street below your window. Days are going to pass regardless, nobody’s waiting on you to get your shit together out there. You can’t choose to miss life. You can take some time off, but that’s it. You still get hungry, you still gotta piss, and your hair’s gonna continue to grow. Life’s not taking a hiatus because you can’t handle it. The only way life is going to get easier for you is for you to suck it up and live it. Because you still have to. And that’s what we’re here for. If we gotta drag you out for dinner or…or to play some ball or something, just say the word, dude.”
“I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore,” Eric confessed. “Before Jules came along, I thought I finally had it all together. I had it all, man. I was happy. And then she blew into my life.”
“Well. You were happy before…” Barry suggested.
“But I was happier with her,” Eric glared.
“You sure?” Travis asked. “Because, truth be told, you’ve been through the fucking ringer—“
“You guys don’t get it,” Eric snapped. “You don’t know her. She’s…hilarious. She’s so witty. And she’s caring and she’s compassionate and she’s…god, we talk for hours. I’ve never had so much fun just simply speaking to another person. Sometimes I feel like she is me. She gets me like nobody else does, she’s…perfect for me.”
“And she feels the same way about herself that you feel about yourself right now,” Travis finished.
Eric’s jaw dropped for a moment and he blinked in surprise. In that moment, it was like you could see the switch flip in him. The switch of realization. The potential epiphany, if you will.
“Eric?” Terrell pressed.
“Shit,” Eric whispered. “I’m a sniveling little shit. Fuck, no wonder she doesn’t want to stick around. Who the fuck feels secure with a sniveling little shit? I’m sitting here…fucking playing the victim when the real victim here is her, not me. She’s the one who got hurt. I’m the one who did it. I mean, let’s be honest, I have no chance with her ever again, that much I know, but—but I don’t want to be that person. I don’t.”
“Good,” Travis nodded.
“You know, if…if she ever misses me and wants to come back, I…I want to be worthy of her. I want to be the best I can be.”
Terrell shrugged. “That’s one way to look at it, sure…”
“I can about guarantee she misses you,” Travis nodded.
“She’s probably doing exactly what I should be doing right now. She’s probably moving on with her life.”
Jason nodded. “Knowing her, you’re probably right.”
Eric’s eyes met Jason’s and Terrell could see the hurt. Blunt as he was, Jason may have said the words Eric needed to hear. Except that the words that came out of Eric’s mouth next let Terrell know that he wasn’t quite out of the woods, yet. “You think she’s happy?”
Jason let out a sigh and glanced at the floor below him as he shook his head. Then he looked up at Eric again. “I’m not sure she’s ever been happy.”
“Look, let’s play some ball,” Travis suggested as he stood up and snatched the ball from Jesse’s hands.
One by one, the rest of the guys followed suit and, before long, the gym was full of the bouncing of balls, shouting of men, and the squeaking of rubber soles against hardwood. It was a good afternoon, Terrell determined. Very revealing. And they had a lot of fun.
Eric would need many more afternoons like these.
IT HAD BEEN a week since the fight with Eric.
The fight that had ended so tragically. The fight that had destroyed what was left of Juliet’s fragile heart. She had only just begun to acknowledge that she had one. Now she was facing the fatal consequences of giving it away, having learned that she’d been doing it right all along—get what you want, but don’t make it personal.
It was Saturday night and Beth sat beside Juliet on her couch. They sat with various forms of chocolate candy between them and Juliet was mindlessly popping the small morsels into her mouth as she stared intently at the screen.
If you concentrate hard enough, your mind won’t wander. She tried to live by this every day.
Out of the corner of her eye, Juliet could tell Beth was restless. Beth had been on her best behavior, though, since she’d shown up armed with Christmas chocolate and red wine, and hadn’t forced Juliet to speak about anything. It was coming, though, at any moment.
On the screen was a classic Christmas movie. It was a comedy and it kept Juliet amused. What didn’t amuse her, however, were the thoughts that crept up every few minutes about how much fun she would be having if she were watching it with Eric. She would laugh hysterically through the whole thing, and she knew it, but not at the movie itself. She would laugh at Eric’s horrible impersonations, perfectly-timed jokes, and witty commentary. He’d wink at her and if she wasn’t already wrapped in his arms, he would pull her close and make it happen.
The thought of his arms, alone, sent chills through her body and filled her heart with longing. She’d never felt such safety and warmth as she did when she was with him. And then…he had to go and say those words. And she hated the way she missed him anyway.
Despite her shattered heart and her shattered trust and her shattered world, Juliet listened to every single one of Eric’s voicemails, even though she knew she shouldn’t. He’d been calling at least twice a day, apparently accepting of the fact that she wouldn’t answer. After the first couple of days, he’d stopped begging for return contact and, instead, just spoke to her voicemail until it cut him off. The minutes at a time that they ran were never long enough and sometimes Juliet would find herself replaying them several times over.
She would do this at night, late, when she was alone and in the dark. Sometimes she felt guilty of taking advantage of his messages and not offering a return call until she remembered the reason why she stopped speaking to him in the first place.
And that was when she cried herself to sleep.
Dr. Leslie Thorne was turning out to be a bigger help than Juliet thought she would be. At the moment, Juliet went to two therapy sessions per week and, while talking about her past was still uncomfortable and she was nowhere near her intended goal, she was proud of her baby-step progress. Already she was feeling slightly stronger and more confident in her own skin. She hated to admit that she regretted quitting the first time.
Mostly because quitting eventually led to seeing Eric Reynolds’s true colors.
Juliet huffed as she popped another chocolate in her mouth, forcing her thoughts away to concentrate on the movie. Beth, however, had finally had enough.
“Jules,” she said quietly.
Juliet side-glanced over at her best friend, the brown-eyed beauty with the fine, ombre waves and the bangs brushing her brow. Even in her boyfriend’s hoodie and a pair of ripped jeans, she looked like a supermodel.
Beth’s boyfriend. Eric’s twin. Bleh.
“Mm,” Juliet replied unenthusiastically.
“Travis and I are having a Christmas party.”
This prompted the wine. Juliet savagely guzzled half the glass. She knew what this was about—and she wasn’t ready for it.
“Is that so?”
“Mmhmm,” Beth nodded.
Juliet returned the nod mindlessly as she returned her attention to the screen.
“Jules,” Beth pressed.
“Hm?”
“You’re not even going to acknowledge it, are you?”
“What I’m doing, is trying not to acknowledge the obvious.”
Beth let out an exasperated sigh.
“Come on,” Juliet finally snapped. “Do you realize what you’re asking me to do?”
“Yes,” Beth snapped back with a glare. “I’m asking you to put aside your emotions for one evening and actually be my best friend for once.”
Juliet gaped at Beth in shock. “For once--?”
“Yes,” Beth confirmed. “I’m taking a back seat to Eric even when you’re trying to avoid him! But I need you, Juliet. As my oldest and dearest friend, I am throwing my first Christmas party with a man that I think I might be falling in love with—for real this time—and I really need your support. I refuse to take a back seat to Eric this time.”
Juliet continued to stare at Beth. Back seat to Eric? Was that how Beth felt? Beth should never be the back seat to anyone in Juliet’s life. Beth was the only person Juliet had ever trusted and depended on—and still was. Had Juliet really been that shitty of a friend lately, as she lived to wallow in her own self-pity?
As she stared at her, her mind quickly began to retrace their friendship and Juliet was appalled by the rapid conclusion she was coming to. Beth had taken her in when she had nowhere else to go. Beth had risked a future and a career and her life savings to go into business with Juliet. Beth did the company’s dirty work, she picked up the slack when Juliet couldn’t handle it, and she’d…come in second to Eric ever since they’d met, picking up all of Juliet’s broken pieces along the way. And what had Juliet ever done for Beth in return?
As Juliet came up short on an answer, she could feel the blood drain from her face. “I’m a horrible friend,” she breathed.
“What?” Beth asked. “No—“
“All I know how to do is take. And make excuses…”
“Jules, that is not true—“
“Yes, it is,” Juliet declared with a growing determination. “Beth, I’ve wronged you over the years and especially recently with all this…shit.”
Beth shook her head fervently. “No. You really haven’t—“
Juliet raised her chin. “I have. I’ve been a bad friend. But not anymore. Not only am I coming to your party, but I want to help plan and I want to decorate. As a matter of fact,” she paused to lean over the arm of her couch and retrieve a pad of paper from the end table drawer. “Tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen.”
Beth smiled, the blush rising to her cheeks. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. And I will. Let’s just say I’m feeling the Christmas spirit.”
“Juliet,” Beth’s tone dropped. “I was a little…blunt a minute ago. But, seriously, what about Eric? He’s going to be there. You know he will.”
Juliet shrugged as she jotted notes down on the paper. “I know. But you’re right. And Dr. Thorne is right. I have to face it eventually. I mean, I won’t be able to avoid him forever, right? Might as well start with a blood stream flowing with Christmas cheer.”
As Juliet winked at Beth, Beth giggled. When she calmed, “So…Dr. Thorne, huh?”
“Yeah,” Juliet nodded with a smile. “Yeah, she’s not so bad. She makes a lot of really good points, makes me see things in ways I’d have never thought of. Acted funny when I mentioned Eric’s name once, but who wouldn’t be surprised that a man would want someone with my baggage, right?”
“Jules…”
“But it’s okay. It still hurts and I’m sure it always will, but I’m learning to cope. Guess I can test my new skills at your party.”
“So this is it, then,” Beth concluded gently. “No chance of reconciliation, no…”
Juliet shook her head as she continued her note-taking. “I already let one person in my life who I thought was different and…um. I won’t put myself in that position again.”
“Jules, he won’t hurt you!” Beth exploded, exasperated.
Finally, Juliet ceased her writing and locked her eyes with Beth’s. “Except that he already has.”