Dear Diary, page 8
“You can just drop me off in Augusta or as close to it as possible,” I demanded. If it had not been for the rain, fierce winds, and lightning strikes, I would have taken my chances and walked the seventy miles to Uncle Bobby and Clara’s.
Even though I told Myles not to touch me, he didn’t listen. He eased his hand up to my face and stroked my cheek with his thumb. My mind reeled. Should I turn around and check myself back into the hospital or unleash my wrath on him?
“I said don’t touch me,” I said, sternly issuing a warning shot.
Myles held his hands up like he was being robbed. “Okay.”
“Are you going to take me to Augusta? Or do I need to call for a ride?”
“I am not taking you anywhere except for home,” Myles replied. “Our home.”
“No, that’s your home, and I don’t want to go there with you.”
“Fair enough. But it’s our home, and I would like for us to go there together, but I will respect your wishes if you’d rather go somewhere else to cool off.” He paused, took a breath, and inched his hand to my face again, forcing me to look at him. He added, “I hope that you’ll come home so we can figure things out. Together.”
I hid a blush. I was taken aback that he hadn’t given up on me. Unlike my blood relatives, not once had Myles said one derogatory thing about me, and he was in the midst of it all. Had this been my family, they would have hurled a million insults my way as soon as they laid eyes on me. Well, not Uncle Bobby or Clara. They had more patience than Job. I always wondered if they thought things and just didn’t say them. They couldn’t have. Not with how much they defended me.
Myles had a point. The loft was practically my home since I’d slowly moved a lot of my things in and hadn’t slept at Uncle Bobby and Clara’s since. While my name wasn’t on anything, he made me feel like what he had was mine.
There was something about standing in the middle of a thunderstorm, reevaluating life, and weighing my options.
Where I lived with Myles provided more excitement than with my aunt and uncle. Not to mention, it was safer. I was sure when Uncle Bobby and Clara purchased their two-story family home many years ago, it wasn’t surrounded by liquor stores on every corner or infested with crime. But I questioned how the loft neighbors would look at me after the show I put on. And I wondered how they looked at Myles and why he even asked me back.
Living on the lake was good for my soul, though. The colors seemed brighter, and the air smelled fresher. The atmosphere no longer reeked of gasoline and gun powder residue. Bakeries and coffee houses lined every corner near the lake and were pleasing with every inhale. I gladly traded in being awakened each morning at five a.m. by a loud train for a distant alarm clock when Myles got ready for his day. Plus, it beat sleeping in the back bedroom that faced an overgrown lot.
With Myles, from the moment I opened my eyes, my bare feet tapped across the hardwood floors to my favorite seat in the house by the window. As people strolled by, I often created scenarios in my mind of what I felt their life was like. Sometimes I made them have problems similar to mine so I wouldn’t feel so alone.
The scenery at the lofts and what it did to my spirit determined my final decision. I didn’t tell Myles. I opened the door and sat inside.
The car was mostly quiet other than occasional small talk on Myles’s part. He flipped through radio stations before finally powering the radio down. He sighed before asking, “Do you want to talk?”
I would have much rather listened to the squeakiness from the windshield wipers clearing away the heavy rain than listen to Myles. “No,” I replied with a sigh to match his.
My response must have flown over his head, because he kept asking questions anyway.
“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” he asked.
“No. You’ve done enough, so please stop talking to me.” Even though I had planned to return home with Myles, he still needed to pay for what he did, at least until I felt he was sorry.
Myles still didn’t get it. “I understand you’re not happy with the decision I made, but I did what I felt was best.”
“Best for who, Myles? For you? You probably had a girl there while I was locked away.”
“Man, why would I bring a girl to our house? You act like you’re the only one affected by what happened.”
“When we get home, you’d better believe I’m going to check the visitor’s log. I swear if you had another girl there . . .” I didn’t bother to finish the threat because I didn’t know how he would react.
“You’re crazy.” Myles and I both gasped. That had been the first negative, irresponsible thing he’d let slip. “Eva, I promise I didn’t mean . . .” His voice trailed off.
From the moment I saw Myles waiting for me, my gut told me it wouldn’t be long before something bad happened. My left knuckle stung, and the side of Myles’s cheek instantly discolored. He brought this upon himself. “Don’t ever call me crazy. Hurry up and get me home.”
Myles accelerated. The roar from the Hemi engine drowned out my heartbeat, which thumped in my ears from anger. We whisked through several two-lane roads like we were in a drag-racing competition even though the posted speed limit was thirty-five. I glanced at the speedometer and noticed the speed climbing. We had reached eighty-five miles per hour before I spoke up.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked. “You have no right to be upset.”
He clenched his jaw. “I’m trying to hurry up and get you home like you said.”
“Slow this car down, smart-ass.”
It was like I was talking to myself, because he accelerated even more.
“Is this what you did to Michael? Is this how you tried to kill my brother?” Just as quickly as I reminded Myles of Michael, I suddenly had a death wish of my own. I unfastened my seat belt with my left hand, leaned over, and grabbed the steering wheel with my right. “I wish I were dead, and you deserve to be too.”
We struggled over control of the wheel. Myles fought to keep us on the road while I fought to run us off. Because he was stronger than me, I needed to loosen his grip. I bit his hand. It wasn’t an ordinary bite. I channeled a pit bull. I latched on and sank my teeth into his flesh while I shook my head and growled.
Instead of him reacting the way I wanted him to, tires screeched as we slid along the wet pavement and came to a complete stop.
“Why did you do that?” I shouted.
Myles remained calm as blood oozed from his wound. Other than the wipers and seat belt warning, nothing. I wanted to bite him again to make him talk.
“I know you hear me talking to you, Myles.”
Finally, he mumbled, “Despite what you think, I did not intentionally hurt Michael.”
“I beg to differ, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I was expecting you to slam on the brakes and send me flying through the windshield like you did to my brother.”
“Car manufacturers install safety features for a reason. That annoying dinging you hear alerts me that someone doesn’t have on a seat belt. I have mine on,” Myles sarcastically said while tugging at the strap. “Just like I didn’t intentionally hurt Michael, I would never intentionally hurt you. I thought I had proven that to you, or at least was working toward that.”
“Whatever.” I rested my head against the headrest and folded my arms across my chest.
Myles sat for a while, looking zoned out, before he merged back into traffic. With all my adrenaline gone and the lack of rest from the hospital, I was exhausted. I let my seat back as far as it would go and slept the rest of the drive. I woke up to Uncle Bobby and Clara standing on their front porch, waiting to welcome me back.
Entry 13
Dear Diary:
I could not believe Myles had dropped me off on the curb of Uncle Bobby and Clara’s like I was trash. He didn’t even warn me. In fact, he had no words for me at all. But he did have plenty for my aunt and uncle.
“Oh, dear, what happened to your hand? You’re bleeding.” Clara frantically hurried to Myles to survey the damage I caused.
He tossed a devilish look in my direction but didn’t verbally snitch. “It’s nothing,” he coolly responded.
“I’ll get the first aid kit,” Clara said and disappeared into the house.
“Hey, Unc. How’s it going?” Myles greeted my uncle and took a seat on the porch.
Uncle Bobby stopped rocking to respond. “Good, son. Nasty injury you have there.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Looks like something to me,” Uncle Bobby countered.
Clara busted through the door with a kit in her hand and tended to Myles.
I felt offended. They were supposed to be on my side. If I was mad at Myles, they should’ve been mad too, not giving him familial titles and tending to wounds he clearly deserved.
“I’m dropping Eva off. I’ll reach out to you to arrange a time to drop off her things,” he said once Clara finished patching him up.
“Sounds good. I can come and pick them up if needed,” Uncle Bobby offered. It was like he had expected me and my things. No shock. No questions. Clara too. But when did Myles have time to discuss any of that with them? Maybe they had expected me to ruin the relationship and weren’t surprised to see me returning to impose on their lives once again.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll let you know.” Myles shook Uncle Bobby’s hand, thanked Clara, and returned to his car.
He didn’t say one word to me. I didn’t care to be around him anymore anyway, but at least he could’ve wished me a good life before he peeled out.
“Come on, dear,” Clara sighed. “I made you a sandwich.”
I frowned. “How did you know I was coming?”
“Myles called.”
It clicked. I remembered falling asleep in the car.
Uncle Bobby grabbed my wrist, stopping me from entering the house. “That was a nasty injury.” He let go of my wrist, then quickly glanced at me and then back to the street. I wasn’t sure if Myles told, but Uncle Bobby knew I caused it.
Weeks passed as I kind of involuntarily resumed being a full-time resident of my old dwelling. Myles had returned my things like he said he would. I was asleep when he came, and then I cried like a mourner, knowing he followed through with kicking me out without trying to win me back. Myles had given up on me, and there was nothing I could do about it.
There were good days and lousy ones dealing with my first-ever breakup, but luckily there were no more hospitalizations. The unidentifiable whispers were gone. Michael too. Although I took my medication as prescribed and responded fairly decently to treatment, I still rated life on the blah scale. The suicidal thoughts would come and go, but I didn’t have a plan to harm myself. The trust that I had built with Clara allowed me the comfort of going to her when I felt off. She would help me readjust my thinking and soothe me back into a safe place.
I talked a good game, but I missed Myles. I missed everything about him: his expensive scent, his braying laughter, the way his eyes showed me that I had his full attention whenever he looked at me. The way he looked at me. That was the best feeling. I’d often catch him stealing glances. Pure love visible. And I ruined it.
I wanted to cry to Clara, but I needed to be woman enough to clean up the mess I had made. I took a chance and called Myles. Better to live with rejection than what-ifs.
To my surprise, Myles answered. “You okay?”
“I’ll do anything to make this right, Myles.”
“You sure about that?” he countered.
“I promise.”
“Hold on,” he said, and then a lingering silence followed. I thought he had hung up, but when I looked at my phone to verify, the timer still rolled.
“Eva, you still there?” He finally returned about three minutes later.
“I’m here,” desperately rushed from my mouth.
“I’ll be there to pick you up Thursday around”—Myles paused, and I heard him shuffle through papers—“twelve fifteen,” he said. “Be ready.”
“Where are we going? And how should I dress?”
“Dress however. No questions. You’ll see when we get there.”
Myles arrived at precisely twelve fifteen like he said he would. He didn’t get out and do his gentleman thing by opening the car door for me like he usually would. He let his window down and yelled to my aunt and uncle, who stood on the porch watching me leave like they were watching their child board the bus for her first day of kindergarten.
“Good morning,” I greeted him with a smile.
Myles didn’t look my way as he returned the greeting. “Good morning. How was your night?”
“Pretty quiet, and yours?”
“Same.”
Time away from me seemed to have changed him. He was distant, which confused me because he had invited me out. Made me wonder if Myles had a hint of mental illness himself.
As I studied Myles’s body language, I noticed his dressed-down attire compared to mine. He wore a sweatsuit while I dressed for a more exciting occasion. “Should I run back in and change?” I asked. “I have on a dress, and you have on sweats.”
“What you have on is fine.”
I wondered when he had noticed since he’d refused to look in my direction.
When we arrived at our destination, I snatched off my seat belt and looked around. Myles was pretty romantic, and when he told me to be ready, I assumed he had planned to whisk me away for some fun to make up for having me committed. Judging by the row of office buildings, I wasn’t sure what he had up his sleeve, but I unbuckled my seat belt, ready to make amends.
“Gastroenterologist, dermatology, endocrinology,” I read off the signs.
My heart raced as I sucked in as much air as my lungs could hold. With the numerous suites of offices in buildings aligned side by side, there were more possibilities than the last sign I had read. He wouldn’t. Rather than overreact, I decided on a different approach.
“Myles, is there something wrong with you?” My mind became flooded with harrowing ideas. Maybe his health was declining, and he didn’t know how to tell me, so he brought me to the doctor with him. Myles needed me for emotional support. This wasn’t what it looked like.
“This visit isn’t for me,” he said matter-of-factly.
“It’s not for me either,” I sassed.
Apparently, it was what it looked like, and from the looks of it, Myles had driven me to a psychiatrist.
“Eva, please. This is for your benefit.”
I fastened my seat belt. “I’m not getting out.”
“That’s fine. If you don’t want to get out, you don’t have to. It’s your choice,” Myles said.
“You’re right.” I patted my chest and added, “It’s my choice. You should’ve asked me first. Why would you think this was okay?”
“This is the aftercare follow-up appointment the hospital scheduled for you. With you being back at your aunt and uncle’s, it got overlooked. When you called, I called them to reschedule it.”
“Well, I’m not doing it. I thought you were taking me somewhere to apologize for calling the police on me.”
Myles shook his head. “I did what was right.”
“Calling the police on me was not right. Bringing me to a psychiatrist without my permission is not right.”
“I just want you to be okay, Eva. After everything that has happened, I am trying to get you some help. Can you please give it a chance?” Myles grabbed my hand, but I snatched it away.
“Are you bringing me here to have me recommitted so you can run around with some other girl? It’s that officer, isn’t it?” I won’t lie. She was beautiful. Fit, chocolate, and her makeup was flawless. I bet as a cop, she had her life together. She knew how to protect and serve, while all I knew how to do was cause a ruckus.
The back of Myles’s head bobbed against the headrest. “There is no other girl. That officer came to do her job, that’s it. I don’t even know what her name is. Now, can we please go inside?”
I wasn’t convinced Myles told the truth. There had to be another woman. One who treated him better than I ever could. And one who gave him sex. “Who is she? Is she in there?” I pointed in the direction of the building. “You want her to make fun of me?”
Myles closed his eyes. Through clenched teeth, he said, “There is no ‘she.’ I am not trying to get rid of you. If I were, then I wouldn’t be here. Despite everything, I don’t want to get rid of you. I want you to get the necessary help so that we can move on in a stable capacity.”
“I am stable.”
Myles waved around his scarred hand. “You said you’d do anything. This is anything. The choice is yours. Either you get help, or there is no chance of us rekindling our flame.”
“You can’t give me an ultimatum.”
“And we can’t continue on this path.” This time, Myles drew a circle around the healed bite mark. I really did a number on him. I could still see the teeth marks.
Stubbornness ran deep within the Moss blood. I would not fold over an empty threat. All it did was fuel the resistance even more. “You must be the crazy one if you think I’m worried about you leaving me. If you wanna leave, then bye.” Days ago, I had cried. But the mere thought of Myles threatening me instantly made me defensive.
“Eva, please,” Myles pleaded.
“I’ve already told you, Michael, I am not going inside.” I bit down on my pinky finger knuckle once I realized what I had said. “I’m sorry. I meant Myles.”
“This is exactly why we need to go inside. I choose you and would love to see a future between us.” His finger hovered over the ignition button. “But I can’t make you.”
Outside of Uncle Bobby and Clara, no one had ever chosen me. I thought I would easily jump in, do as Michael instructed, and continue with my life, but there was something inexplicable about Myles Sanders that tugged at my heartstrings and mesmerized me. Not a single soul would understand what went on inside my mind. Honestly, I didn’t understand it, but Myles wanted to understand and help me. I just needed to be courageous enough to face Michael. He would realize that I’d finally fallen in love, and one day he’d approve of the budding relationship.
