SUNDAY MORNING
Tony looked so serene lying next to me, asleep in the bed we had shared once upon a time. The bed that should have been ours. The bed that held memories of erotic foreplay, passionate screwing, and tender pillow talk. It had been so good with him. Why did I have to burn down everything I touched?
Although it was still dark outside, I knew Tony would wake up soon, groggy and confused by the drugs and alcohol. First he’d wonder what happened, then he’d wonder how it happened. But for now, I’d relish the nostalgia. I was too anxious and blissful to sleep. Contrasting emotions swirled inside me – everything but regret. I could never regret a night with Tony, no matter how much I should have felt guilt over it.
I’ll admit it, what I had done was wrong. But when he had left so brusquely earlier, with such contempt for me in his eyes, I had to fix it. I had to burrow my way back into his heart. Hours after he left, I had figured it all out. I opened up with an invitation for a peace treaty. A toast to signing the divorce papers.
‘Bring over all the paperwork,’ I had said when I called. ‘I’ll sign whatever you need me to sign if it’ll make you happy. All I want is for you to be happy.’
A lie, of course. I didn’t want him to be happy; I wanted me to be happy. If I couldn’t have him, I’d destroy him instead. And several spiked drinks later, he was putty in my hands.
I touched Tony’s face, tracing his chin. The past twelve months had distanced us, and yet I felt closer to him now more than ever. And it wasn’t just the after-sex high. We had shared something real, and while I had spent our entire marriage erecting a wall he couldn’t penetrate, it had merely been a wall of glass. He had seen the broken girl behind the glass and loved her anyway.
From under the covers he stirred, and I snuggled into the crook of his body. It felt so warm and safe, unlike all the other men I had dated over the past year. They had been hard bodies intended to fill a temporary gap between my sheets, but they had never been Tony. No one could compare to him.
I remembered when the accident first happened, I had been left crippled both emotionally and physically. The cuts all over my body represented the cuts all over my soul. The strong, independent woman I had been suddenly vanished into a fearful sobbing mess. I could barely function, the constant pain shredded my will to live, and the surgery to repair my back left me swollen and scarred. Yet through the opiates, the physical therapy, the slow healing process, Tony assured me of how beautiful I was, how strong I was – all that motivational shit people feed you when you want to shove a pistol in your mouth and be done with it.
He had been right, though. My body eventually healed, my scars faded … but the drugs … those I couldn’t shake. Whether it was phantom pain or full-blown addiction, I don’t know why I couldn’t stop. Tony had begged, pleaded, threatened – and yet the pills always came first. I always chose them, or maybe they chose me. I don’t know. But eventually Tony gave up, and I couldn’t blame him. I certainly wouldn’t want to live with someone like me, never knowing from one day, one hour to the next which version of me you were getting.
The day he left, he broke me for good. I couldn’t see myself through the haze after that. I became a shattered mirror, my cracks hiding any good left inside me. My weakness became my weapon, shards of glass I’d cut myself with: Alone, slice. Depressed, slice. Ugly, slice. Until I’d bleed my heart out onto the floor, staining everything and everyone around me. Friends, family, lovers. I became unbearable to be around, so I buried the pain a little deeper.
Tony had been my only chance at redemption, and I had blown it back then. But I wouldn’t lose him again, no matter what it took.
Tony and I were both naked. Wrapping him in my arms now, I spooned him with my breasts pressed against his back. My touch stirred him awake. He stretched languorously but didn’t turn over.
‘Good morning, beautiful,’ he said, yawning.
I had missed that daily greeting. As I nuzzled his neck and wriggled against him, I realized it had also been my first full night sober in months. This moment suddenly felt like a turning point for me, like in a romantic flick when everything begins to flow back to where it’s supposed to be for the happily ever after.
I fondled him and he stirred to life. ‘Want to go for a morning ride?’
He chuckled throatily and turned over. ‘You better know it – Liliana! What the fuck?’ His back stiffened as realization settled in, then he jumped out of bed and pulled the corner of the sheet, wrapping it around his waist.
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked, all innocence.
‘What’s wrong? Did we … what happened last night, Liliana?’ His wild eyes roved around the room, as if he’d forgotten why he came here.
‘We made love. Then did it again. And again. You told me you wanted to give us another try.’
Okay, so he was stoned when he said it, but it was still true.
‘Oh no. Oh no no no.’ Tony rummaged along the floor for his clothes, growing more frantic by the second.
‘Calm down, Tony. You’re freaking out. Take a breath.’
‘Calm down? I just cheated on the woman I want to marry! What did we drink last night? Did you – you drugged me, didn’t you?’ He was throwing words now, and the blue vein on his forehead throbbed. ‘Damn it, Liliana!’ He slammed his fist on my bedside table, rattling the lamp and alarm clock.
I slunk out of bed and threw on a robe. ‘You’re scaring me. Can you please slow down and relax?’
‘Relax? How do you expect me to relax when I have to go home and tell my fiancée what I’ve done?’
‘Then don’t go home. Stay.’
‘Stay? You slammed that door shut when you chose drugs over me.’
‘Oh, don’t pin our breakup on me. You chose to leave me. You knew I was struggling and you couldn’t hold my hand through it. That is on you.’
‘What did you expect from me? You were constantly popping pills, always a mess … I couldn’t live with you anymore.’
‘But that’s what you vowed to do when you married me – for better, for worse, and all that shit. I needed you, and you walked out on me at my lowest point like our marriage certificate wasn’t worth the paper it was printed on. How could you do that when I gave you every part of me?’
‘I’m sorry I hurt you.’ His voice was mellow now, the fight gone from it. ‘But what you did last night was evil. I know exactly what you did. You purposely lied to me, drugged me, then seduced me. What am I supposed to tell Sienna? She’s probably wondering where the hell I’ve been all night. I can’t believe I trusted you. I should have known better. You’ve only ever cared about yourself.’
By now he’d found all of his discarded clothes and was mostly dressed, hopping as he pulled on his socks on the way out of my bedroom.
‘That’s not true. I did it for you – because I can love you better than she can. I know you, what you like, what you want, who you are. When you were a hundred pounds heavier, who loved you? Me! When you were jobless, who supported you? Me! I never judged you, never looked down on you, never resented you. I loved you for who you were, always. Can Sienna say that? If you gained that weight back, would she still lust after you? If you lost your job, would she happily support you? I don’t think so, Tony, because there is no one else who would lie, drug, and seduce you just to keep you. That, my friend, is how much I love you. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.’
He stood at the front door, one hand resting on the doorknob, worming his foot halfway into one shoe while holding the other.
‘There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me, huh? Then do this one last thing: let me go.’