Concealed - A Hiding From Love Novel #2 (20 page)

Alexis

El que no es conmigo, contra mí es.

He who is not with me is against me.

W
E’VE
been in the waiting room of the hospital for hours. By the time Beth and I arrived, my older brothers had both made it, the oldest with his fiancée in tow. Now, at 4 a.m., there are fourteen cousins, six aunts and uncles, my four siblings, my dad, Marco, and assorted neighbors and parishioners from our church. I can see we’re taxing the hospital’s tolerance, but there are so many of us that they can’t figure out how to get it under control.

I’ve been avoiding Beth since we left Austin. I saw the look on her face when I told her it was Marco who was going to give us a ride. He arrived before she could respond, but I know it’s coming – the sisterly smackdown.

When a doctor finally comes out and approaches my dad, the whole waiting room goes silent. My brothers and sisters and I make our way to Dad’s side.

“It was definitely a heart attack, Mr. Garcia. We found two arteries completely clogged and the third partially. Has she been having any pains in her chest or left arm lately?”

“Yes,” my dad answers. “She was complaining about her shoulder hurting on that side yesterday.”

“That’s pretty typical. Most patients have a series of small heart attacks before they ever get to the point where they realize they need to come into the hospital. Your wife was fortunate. It doesn’t look like there was too much damage to the heart muscle. We’ve performed angioplasty on those arteries and put in stents to keep them open in the future. She’ll be ready for you to see her later this morning, and hopefully out of ICU tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” my dad says, his voice weary.

“Of course. I’d suggest everyone go home for a few hours. We’ll let her have immediate family only for visitation tomorrow, and then if she’s able to move out of ICU the next day she can have regular hospital visitation hours and rules.”

My dad nods and the doctor retreats into the bowels of the hospital.

My brothers and Beth immediately go into a huddle, discussing who should go where. I put my arm around my younger sister, Ruby, and wait for the older siblings to tell us what they’ve decided.

Finally, Beth turns around and says gently to Ruby, “Okay, áá and David are going to take you and Dad home. You grab a few hours of sleep and some food. Lex and I will stay here for now in case Mom needs anything.”

All the extended family converge on Dad, giving him blessings and saying they’ll be back the next day. Marco comes over to hear the plans and says that he’ll go home with his parents so he can leave the car with me and Beth.

Once everyone is gone, Beth grabs us each a cup of coffee from the vending machine and sits next to me.

“We need to talk,” she tells me firmly as she hands me the cup.

I know this can only be about what happened with Gabe back in Austin. “Jesus, Beth. Mom’s in ICU. Do you really think this is the time to discuss my love life?”

She turns to face me, her jaw set, her eyes sparking with frustration or anger – or something that doesn’t bode well for me.

“Mom is going to be fine, and even if she weren’t, there is no good time to talk about what you did back there in that bar.”

I sigh and hang my head, staring at the floor.

“What the hell is the matter with you, Lex? I know you’ve been under pressure, and I know Mom and Dad have been doing a number on you. I’ve been your biggest advocate. I’ve told you to follow your heart – no matter which guy it led you to – and I’ve explained you to both Gabe and Marc when they’ve asked me…”

I look at her, mouth agape. She’s never told me she talks to them about me.

“Yeah, that’s right, and don’t you dare get all snippy about it either. I’ve been on
your
side, Lex, through all of this. Not just since Gabe came back – ever since you got off that plane from Afghanistan. But I can never condone what you did tonight. That man loves you more than his own life. He isn’t just some guy you’re dating while you’re in college. He’s the real thing, Lex. The one.
Your
one. He handed you his heart and tonight you took it, squeezed it ‘til it bled, and tossed it on the street like an empty beer bottle. I’m ashamed of you. I’m ashamed
for
you.”

She sits back, breathing heavily, arms crossed, as she looks everywhere in the room but at me.

I feel the tears rise to my eyes and I swallow it all. The fear, the pain, the sting of her words. Then, I stand and glare down at her.

“Thanks so much for your sisterly advice. And really, all the support. It’s easy for you to sit on your high horse, since you’re not the one they’re threatening to disown. What the hell was I supposed to do? Show up at the hospital with Gabe in tow? What if Dad had thrown me out and I couldn’t see mom? But you know what? You don’t need to worry about it from here on out. I got this. All by myself, ‘cause that’s where I’ve landed, isn’t it? Alone.”

I walk out of the hospital and pull out my cell phone.

“Yes, I need a taxi please.”

Gabe

A falta de pan, tortillas.

Love the one you’re with.

T
HOSE
first few weeks in Afghanistan after Alexis went home were rough. I was in love, and in spite of what she’d promised, she wasn’t speaking to me – or emailing me or texting me. But there was always this tiny spark inside. This little light far back in the darkness of my soul, because we were thousands of miles apart and I could tell myself it would all be fine when I got home.

Once I did get back to the States, it hurt in a different way. It was the finality of what I’d already known. She wasn’t coming back, and life was going on. But the energy and time I had to expend making that life kept me busy enough that I could ignore my aching, stinging heart for periods. I also had the luxury of telling myself – over and over again – that it would never have worked anyway. It had all been a fantasy.

As I pour myself a cup of coffee in my tiny studio apartment in Austin, Texas, looking out the window at the door of Alexis’s apartment where she hasn’t been for four long days, the pain is so much fucking worse than it ever was before. Because now I know. I know it would have worked. I know it was, in fact, fantastic. It was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and there are no other excuses for why I lost it except the worst one. She doesn’t love me. At least not the way I love her, because there isn’t a person or a force on this planet that could keep me from her, but that is obviously not true for her.

It didn’t take much – one family crisis – and she left me like a bad dream. It’s a pattern not so unfamiliar in my life. My father left me, and my mother left me emotionally. Who knows if more women might have left me? I never gave any of them the chance. They couldn’t leave me because I left them first. That had always been my motto, and given how incredibly fucking horrible I feel four days after Alexis left, I never should have given it up.

I shrug into my leather, lock the door to the apartment, and saddle up on the Harley. Some part of me can’t bear the idea of taking the truck on the chance she might turn back up and need it for something.

Since she got in that car with Marco, I’ve texted and called her at least fifty times. Not a single damn response. In desperation, I finally texted Beth to find out if they’d made it safely and how their mom was doing. She sent back two words: “Ask Alexis.” At that point, I gave up. That was Monday. Now, on Thursday, I’m about done with the misery. I can’t keep it up, the worry, the pain, the questions. I just want it to all go away. I want numb. I want some sort of fucking peace.

Being a guy, Mike understands. He hasn’t said anything beyond, “Have you heard from her?” on Monday morning at work. I shook my head and he left well enough alone. Thursday afternoon, he saunters into my bay while he polishes a custom piece of chromework he’s putting on one of the cars from Ramon’s lowrider club.

“You got plans tonight?” he asks casually.

I look at him with one brow raised. “What the hell do you think?” I reply bitterly.

My bad attitude doesn’t seem to bother him. “Cool. We’re meeting the girls at the Silver Dollar.”

“Carla and Denise?”

“Yep. I’ll follow you home after work since you brought the bike. I’ll be DD tonight.”

I stop, my head still buried inside the truck engine I’m working on. “Thanks, man,” I say quietly.

“It’s what friends are for,” he answers simply before he walks off to mess with the iPod. He picks Gotye’s
Somebody That I Used to Know
. Even as miserable as I am, I can’t help but chuckle.

The numbness I crave is slightly more difficult to achieve than I originally thought. We’ve been at the Silver Dollar for three hours when I finally feel the telltale rush. The dizzying fuzziness that comes from copious amounts of alcohol and inane chatter. I welcome it, ordering another round of boilermakers as quickly as possible to ensure the effects of the previous six or seven beers and four shots don’t wear off.

Denise and Carla have shown up with a couple of girlfriends and some guy one of the other girls is dating. Everyone is primarily interested in getting slammin’ drunk, so it’s working for me. Carla seems to sense I’m not myself, so she sticks pretty close, even chasing off one of the other girls who’s flirting heavily with me.

It’s a relief to be with Carla. No messy expectations or flaring emotions. My heart and my head are so exhausted after the last few months that I relish sitting and listening to her talk about some dumb concert she’s been to. It doesn’t require me to participate, and I can watch the rise and fall of her smooth breasts as she gestures along with her story.

From the midst of my haze, I hear Mike calling. “Dude! You ready to go? You look like you’ve about had it.”

I blink at him, trying to wrap my head around what he’s asking. Yeah, I’ve had it. Had it with baring my soul and my heart to someone who couldn’t give a shit. Had it with being the one with no power, the one who takes all the risks while she stays in the safety of her indecision and cheats me out of the rest of her.

“I got him,” I hear Carla tell Mike.

He looks at her hard. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s such a good idea, C.”

“I’m a big girl. I can handle myself,” she answers.

His eyes dart between Carla and me. “You’re both going to regret it, I can guarantee that.”

“Dude,” I slur as I stagger to my feet. “It’s all good. C can give me a ride, can’t you, babe?”

She stands up, a sweet smile spreading across her face as she smooths a hand up my arm. “Sure. We’ll be fine, won’t we?”

Mike shakes his head before whispering something to Denise. She nods. “All right, man. I’ve got Denise. We’re out of here.” He waves to the others and leaves.

I look down at Carla, noticing how pretty her blue eyes are. Blue is my new favorite color.

“Let’s take the party somewhere quieter, huh?” I slur as I sling an arm around her shoulders.

“Right this way,” she tells me as we make our way toward the door.