"If I knew it all then, would I do it again?
Would I do it again?"
- "everything i wanted," Billie Eilish (2019)
Jordan
"Asher, what the hell is this?"
I put my hands behind my back, eyes narrowing at the box he's unpacking before flicking over to him. I guess he can sense my disapproval, because he comes to my side and gives a half-chuckle when he realizes what I'm talking about.
"...A lamp."
"Is that what we're calling it?" I grumble, unimpressed, and he just scoffs in response.
The "lamp" is actually just a standing lightsaber—I may be oblivious to his interests most of the time, but even I know that. What I don't know, however, is why anyone with an iota of taste would want it polluting their living space. Then again, even if Ash and I share half of our DNA, he's never been one for classic Dawson elegance.
"Okay, so you know that scene in The Empire Strikes Back where—" He pauses, touching his tongue to his molars when my expression is all the answer he needs. "Of course you don't. But if you did, you'd appreciate it more."
"This is not going up in my apartment."
I tip my head at him in finality, starting to walk away before he chimes in to correct me.
"Our apartment."
"My name is on the lease." A smile tugs at my lips even though my back is facing him. "Unless you want me to give them your account information for the rent?"
A small beat of silence falls, and my grin only grows when I can hear the annoyance in his response.
"Fine. I'll keep it in my room."
"Glad we can agree on that."
I continue my walk to the sliding glass door, shoulders lowering as I watch the sky turn peach. I've been supervising (and occasionally assisting with) Asher's move into my apartment, but I'm sure Alex and the Bennetts are halfway through their dinner by now. It's not exactly an event I wanted to miss, especially when the Bennetts will be heading home immediately afterward. I'd have to make a trip to Pismo Beach to see Lily before her birthday, and I don't have that kind of room in my schedule when I already plan on sneaking Ash home with me for the week. But, honestly, it's probably better that I sat this one out.
Lily is giving Alex plenty of issues without me there to further complicate things.
I crack the terrace door, letting in a gust of fresh air and the familiar symphony of wind chimes. Lily's flowers seem to greet me as I do so, waving hello in the balmy summer breeze, and I can't help but glance back at my phone on the coffee table.
I've been struggling to not call or text her all week—since her little episode on Monday raised a still-screaming alarm in the back of my head. That was the first red flag, an indication that her honeymoon paradise with Alex is starting to crack under the weight of her disability and his secrets.
Ash is the medium through which I've kept an eye on her disposition all week, filling me in on the vacant coldness that's overwhelmed her recently. How she's spent most of the week locked inside of her room...and Alex outside of it.
My first instinct was to confront her and uncover the root of the issue—until it became apparent that this is an Alex problem more than anything else. Of course that's wonderful news for me, but, if he heard me talking to Lily when she's been pushing him away all week, there's no telling what kind of drivel that would cause.
So I watch her obvious sadness from a distance, pretending not to notice, refusing to hound her about it like I would have a few years ago. Sure, I'm waiting for the bottom to fall out with those two, but I won't lie and say I'm not terrified. That I don't remember watching her breakdown from behind the walls she put up between us.
I'll also tell the truth and admit that I have no idea what my next step will be. On paper, an unhappy Lily pushing Alex away is the perfect way to start my summer. However, in reality, an unhappy Lily of any kind doing anything makes me so nervous that I can't think straight. I'd love if her discontent led her to break up with Alex and therefore give me a space to slide into romantically. But heaven knows I would trade that possibility for her happiness and stability in a heartbeat. Less than a heartbeat.
I guess I'll just have to face my biggest fear: waiting to find out.
"Uh...someone's calling you," Asher says, raising his voice slightly, and I turn over my shoulder in a mixture of surprise and confusion. The usual suspects are accounted for: the Bennetts at dinner, Ash right here with me, and the Cabinet knowing better than to call me out of the blue.
"Check it out," I reply anyway, some kind of intuition making the hairs on the back of my neck raise, and Ash glances back at me with wide eyes after a look at the screen.
"Oh no."
"What do you mean 'oh no?'"
"I mean it's Alejandro."
"Holy shit." The implication freezes me in place for a few seconds, but my mouth moves before my brain does. "Give it to me."
Asher hesitates, giving me a pointed "are you sure" look, and I respond with a frantic hand wave to cement my decision. With one last grimace, he rushes across the room and hands me my phone with just enough time to pick up the call.
"Alex?" is all I utter, half-convinced that Lily's using his phone for some reason, but it's his voice that comes back to me.
"Are you busy?"
"Um..." I make eye contact with Ash, not sure what answer he's looking for. "No?"
"Good. I need you to go get Lily—she ran off to the trail by herself, and...you don't need me to explain why that might be a problem."
"No I don't," I mutter, mouthing "keys?" at Asher and shaking pinched fingers to further elucidate my request. "But why did she run off? And...why can't you go get her?"
"She just...did, okay?" he snaps back, patience already wearing thin. "We're still at the restaurant, and Joseph and Lisa are busy tying up loose ends, and I think she would prefer to see you right now, anyway. That's all; now stop asking questions and go get her."
My head instinctively cocks back at his tone, the very fibre of my being foreign to orders, but his quick mention of her preferring to see me overrides that sentiment before I can act on it.
"Got it. But I'm bringing her back here."
"Whatever."
He ends the call without any protest, to my shock, and I'm lowering the phone before the gravity of the situation and his request finally weigh on me. Lily's very, very upset—she's only a flight risk when her emotions are too strong to stay and talk through. And yet Alex called me to go get her. Why would someone as hands-on as him see giving her time to stew as the better option?
"What was that?" Ash asks, handing me the keys to my new Bentley, and I just shake my head.
"I...think the bottom just fell out."
~ 💔 ~
We found Lily just where Alex said she would be—crouched silently underneath a large oak tree with puffy eyes and wet cheeks. She looked just as out of place on the trail as the tears did in her eyes: wearing a short, flouncy sundress with wedge heels that clearly aren't suited for her usual outdoorsy activities.
She was relieved when she saw us, but, when Ash and I pulled her up from the ground, took her to the car, and drove her back to my place, she didn't say much outside of quiet "thank yous" and "okays." And, even as she sits on my living room couch shrouded in blankets, she's so deep in thought that that doesn't seem to be changing.
"I'm sorry about whatever happened, Birdie," I offer as I take a few steps away from the couch. "You don't have to talk to me about it, but—
"Did you know?"
When she finally speaks, her voice is sharp, exacting—and, along with the weight of her dark eyes, it somehow tells me exactly what she's talking about. Shit. I suspected that she'd find the holes in Alex's unwavering belief in her, but the precise nature of her question says she knows exactly what he did on her behalf. But how? Who told her, if not me or him?
I'm stuck in a bout of silence, tongue paralyzed as I flip back and forth between lying to save my own ass or telling her the truth to just...be real with her for once. She won't be happy to know that I sat on this information for months and months—even if my keeping it under wraps green-lit her relationship with Alex. But, as those big, pitiful eyes stare up at me, I force back a "what are you talking about" and make a conscious decision to put my ulterior motives on the back-burner.
"Yes. I did."
Her face crumples ever so slightly as she turns her head away, and I suddenly notice the pearl drop earrings that swing back and forth in response. They're the same milky-white as the string that grazes her collarbones—so uncharacteristically sophisticated for the laid-back Lily that the set has her parents written all over it. I almost ask her about it, but, before I can, her quiet voice talks over my momentary silence.
"Can I hit you?"
For a moment, the outlandish nature of the sentence paired with her typical blasé tone makes me think I heard her wrong. But, once the blank look on her face tells me she's completely serious, I can only think of one word with which to respond.
"...Why?"
"So we can be...somewhat even." She inhales, making the bow sitting on her chest rise and fall. "And I can have someone to talk to about this."
"Punch or slap?" I respond instantly, a clear agreement, and her lips quirk at my enthusiasm before she stands.
"Punch."
I step back, lifting my arms like a scarecrow to give her a good shot.
"Open season. But—just in case you punch like your boyfriend—my face is off-limits."
Her dominant left hand balls into a fist, but, after a moment of me looking down at her, her cheeks turn red and she loses her nerve.
"Well don't look at me!"
I just turn my eyes to the side after rolling them, and, as soon as I do, a pillow-soft blow lands right in the middle of my chest. It would probably be smarter to pretend I'm in pain, but I'm so shocked by the lack thereof that I don't even move.
"Okay, Birdie, that's just sad." I look back down at her, crossing my arms as the triumph in her face fades. "What are they teaching you in your self defense classes?"
"Well I'm not planning on fist-fighting my attacker, if that's your angle," she mutters, kicking off one of her heels with an elegantly pointed foot. "But since you asked—"
A wave of white-hot pain rushes up to my stomach, blinding me with a slap of nausea, and I'm lying face-first on the couch before I can even hear the pained gurgling sound ripping its way out of my mouth. After the confusion subsides, each pulsing stab confirms to my brain what my body knew thirty seconds ago—that the little smart ass kicked me in the balls.
"Is that better?" Lily's monotone voice asks over the sound of Asher's hysterical laughter in the kitchen, and I push down the urge to gag as I stick an arm between my clenched legs.
"Cheap shot, Bennett."
"You said your face was off-limits. Nowhere else."
Her weight comes down next to my head as she kicks off her other shoe and tucks her legs underneath her. However, when I still can't muster up the strength to sit up, she just sighs and pats me on the shoulder with mock sympathy.
"Sorry, Jo."
"No, I...I deserved it." I prop myself up on one elbow, taking a few more deep breaths before I push my upper body all the way upright. "Did it at least make you feel better?"
"Oh yeah." She nods vehemently, looking up at me once we're at our normal sitting heights. "There's no telling what I would've said if I didn't get distracted—I'm just...I'm having a lot of feelings."
She holds a small silence, staring down at the dark wood of the floor before she speaks again.
"Why did he do it? And why didn't you tell me?"
"He just wanted to help. And once I knew how happy he made you, I couldn't stomach dropping a bomb like that on you. Maybe it was my hubris, but I thought it would blow over—that no one would end up getting hurt. At least not if I didn't want them to."
I dare a look over at her as I pause, exhaling a little when I realize she's still staring into oblivion.
"Whether it makes you feel better or worse, you know I would've done anything in my power to fix it if I had the chance. What Alex did was just...the only way he knew to help. He never meant to hurt you."
"I know," she says, so soft that I barely hear her. "But I feel so stupid. I know how you are, but I thought Alex was different—that, deep down, he really did see me as his equal. Even if I didn't feel like it sometimes. I've spent all these months with my chest poked out, thinking I'm destined to move past this, to do something greater, just to have that rug pulled out from under me. It makes me wonder what it was all for if I'd still end up feeling like...like the same stupid, naive girl I was when I was with you."
Her words touch so many points that I'm struck silent for a few seconds as I try to unpack them. I'll admit that I have a habit of seeing Lily as a fragile entity to love, coddle, and protect—that I don't exactly hide the sentiment from her. And I know that, despite appearances, Alex and I tend to feel the same way about her at our core. But, somehow, I never bothered to think about how that still affects her. How disorienting it must be to realize things haven't changed as much as she thought they did...even if she's in an entirely new relationship.
Despite six months of heralding Alex as perfect, as the better version of me, she's face-to-face with his faults for the first time. And, now that she doesn't know what to do, she's opening up to me. I'm her confidant, the one she trusts—the opinion that could sway her in the end.
This is everything I wanted, right? So why did her words tear a gaping hole in my chest that only grows when I look over at her? Why are the words that I expected, the words I've been wanting to say for the entirety of their relationship, getting stuck on my tongue?
"It wasn't all for nothing," I finally murmur, the line coming out on its own accord. "Everything you did—breaking up with me, moving, figuring things out on your own, even being with Alex...it made you what you are now."
"What?" She doesn't move. "Brain damaged?"
I sigh and lift my eyes to the ceiling, adjusting myself a little.
"No, Lil. You wouldn't be anywhere near as independent as you are now. You probably wouldn't know how to think for yourself. And the world would be a worse place because you wouldn't have the chance to realize your potential."
Ever so slowly, her brown eyes raise to look at me. They register appreciation at my words, but the deep sorrow still hanging in the darkness is reflected when she speaks.
"Maybe I never will."
"Maybe not," I whisper, words a bit negative yet still sincere. "Most people never do. But if you don't, at least you'll know that you did all you could. And that the people who love you did all they could, too."
She crosses her arms and leans forward with a little whimper—her only response. And, after a few beats, I take her silence as an opportunity to ask her a question of my own.
"So...what's going on with you and Alex?"
"It's been...tense. He knows that I'm upset, and he kind of understands why, but...not that I know about Montoya. And I didn't want him to figure that out, yet—I didn't need him to spend all his time justifying what he did when the point is how it made me feel."
Her hand goes to her necklace, short nails exploring each pearl.
"I was doing pretty well; I really talked to him about it last night. But I still ended up getting overwhelmed like I always did with you—and God, I left him at dinner with my parents. They started giving me this speech about how proud they were, and how much I've grown, but...knowing the truth...I just couldn't take it."
She inhales after answering, and the slight sniffle that comes out lets me know her emotions—even if she's not showing them on her face.
"Well..." I barely even dare the question. "Are you gonna break up?"
She shakes her head 'no,' earrings gently swaying to back her up.
"Maybe I'm being simplistic, but it didn't even cross my mind...not when it would only make me feel worse. I love him too much—love what we have too much—to throw my hands up and run." Her eyes flick downward. "He was way out of line—both doing what he did and then lying to me about it. And, yeah—I'm so, so upset with him about it. But to end it over one mistake that happened before we were together? I just...that's out of the question. There's no way I could live with that."
I'm not sure why I'm surprised enough to be disappointed at her answer. Lily is devoutly loyal to Alex, just like she was to me—it's part of who she is. And, although part of my displeasure at her response is due to jealousy, there's something else that concerns me. If they ignore this fundamental disconnect in their relationship and move on because they love each other, there's a good chance that decision will only end up in an implosion further down the line.
I should know more than anyone.
"So that's just...it?" I say carefully, measuring my tone. "He walks through that door, you forgive him, and things go back to the way they were?"
Lily stops looking at me—a clear sign that I've poked a hole in her.
"No; I can't. But I don't know what else to do. I mean...I've known the truth since Monday, and he's been on me all week. He'll want to fix it, but I haven't had enough time to figure out what I feel, or what I want. I don't know how to fix it yet."
After a beat of silence, she sits up and nods to herself.
"Space."
"Space?" I repeat, not following, and she stands before stuffing her feet into her heels.
"I need space. Which is perfect, because you two will be in New York until my birthday. So let's put a pin in it—because I don't think I can take much more of this at once."
Her words progressively get faster as she speaks, and she's already walking toward the terrace before she finishes her sentence. I open my mouth to ask exactly what she means by "space," but she closes the door and promptly plops back-first onto the wicker couch.
"Grilled cheese?"
A plated sandwich slides into my periphery with the sound of Asher's voice, and I turn my head to give him a "really?" face in response to his timing. And, holding two plates, he shrugs with a deceivingly calm expression.
"I originally made one for Lily, but I thought you'd want to get your energy up. Looks like you have a long night ahead of you."
"Honestly? I doubt it. If you knew Lily back when I was dating her, you'd be surprised that she could even figure out what was bothering her, and that she needs more time to think about it. I...actually think she can handle this."
"Hm. Maybe you can learn from her, then."
He puts the plate on top of my head anyway, then making his way to the terrace. It stays perfectly still thanks to my usual posture, even as I turn my head to watch him through the glass door. Lily, formerly laying with her wrist over her eyes, removes it when she hears him, and he's already on the way back in after giving her the grilled cheese and a small, reassuring smile.
"You didn't try to get anything else out of her?" I ask incredulously, remembering to take the plate off of my head at the last moment, and he shakes his head as he walks past the couch.
"After talking to you and knowing that Alejandro and her parents are on the way, the last thing she needs is someone else badgering her."
"Badgering her?"
I narrow my eyebrows after repeating him, but he just gives a heavy sigh.
"You know how you are. And if you don't give her the space she was talking about, no matter how much you want to help, you'll only make things worse."
He picks up his own grilled cheese, adjusting his glasses and shuffling his slippers, but a knock on the door stops him in the middle of his journey to the couch. His pale eyes flick to me, a question, and I just nod—an answer. However, after a glance through the peephole, his hand doesn't move on the doorknob.
"Wait—I don't know these people."
I won't deny the wave of relief that rushes over me at the confirmation that it's not Alex, but I'm still wondering if it is the Bennetts—if they really came up without him.
"What do they look like?"
"Um..." He looks again. "A white guy that's like—damn—tall as a fucking tree. Brown hair, beard, and...blue eyes, I think. And a tiny lady—dark brown skin, black hair that's cut into a bob."
I look back at Lily, who's curled into a ball after finishing her sandwich, and return to Asher. This is probably great news—that the buffer for any possible conflict I could have with Alex has arrived early.
"Those are Lily's parents."
"Really?" His face twists in disbelief before he takes a third look. "They're super hot for old people; aren't they supposed to be in their—"
"Open the door!" I interrupt, and he quickly obliges before stepping out of the way.
Joseph and Lisa enter, the apprehension evident on their faces, but, once they see Lily through the floor-to-ceiling windows, it quickly melts into relief. They give a quick hello to Asher, then passing me with affectionate hands on my head. I release the tension in my shoulders as I watch them embrace their daughter, and I look back at Ash when he closes the door.
"Two down, one to go."
"Maybe he won't come up."
Ash shrugs, sitting down next to me, and I shake my head.
"I seriously doubt that."
We're halfway through our sandwiches before another knock on the door proves my suspicions correct. Asher just swallows his bite at the sound of it, dropping his grilled cheese and standing in a nonverbal surrender. Although I chuckle at his complete acceptance of the doorman role, I still tense in preparation for whatever version of Alejandro Molina is about to come through that door.
Ash takes a deep breath before opening the door, but Alex is a picture of serenity when he steps in. A nonchalant hand goes up to rake through his perfect waves, and, when his eyes land on me, the amber is at a low simmer—not a burn.
I rise to meet him, more than perturbed by his tranquility, and he provides both the reason for his delay and composure before I even have to ask.
"They told me to stay in the car for a few minutes to 'get my thoughts in order.'"
"Oh." I come to a stop a few feet away from him—decisively out of range. "Well...did it work?"
He just stares at me as his answer, and I take a slow inhale in realization.
"That's fair; I know you're stressed."
"Thanks...I guess you would." His gaze slides to the windows with the vacant steadiness of a robot. "But I'm not here for you."
He moves to step around me, but, before my brain can fully kick in, I block him and lift my hands. A snap of irritation crosses the ethereal calmness of his face, and, not used to explaining myself to him, I quickly scramble to justify my actions.
"You'll make it worse. Lily knows about Montoya. And I don't know how she found out, but—she's pissed at what you planned to do, and she's pissed that I knew and didn't tell her. That's why she's been acting strange all week. And what she tried to talk to you about last night."
Roaring flames.
His eyes intensify so quickly that I almost step back, but I stand my ground. No matter how estranged we've been the past half-year, I know Alejandro Molina backwards and forwards. I know he has a tendency to overreact, to spin out of control, but everything he does is grounded in his emotions. And there's nothing he feels more strongly about than Lillian Bennett.
"She's hurt, Alex—and not just by you. I don't know how much yet, but finding out really shook up her view of things, and she needs some time to figure herself out without you influencing her." I lower my hands, trusting him to stay in place. "Hounding her won't work if she's icing you out. Trust me, I...I know."
My words throw a bucket of water on the fire in his eyes, and, slowly, the tension in his face deflates to an unusual look on him: fear. He whips his head around, looking at Lily and her parents on the patio, before he curses to himself and returns to me. His words are reluctant and unhurried, as if he doesn't want to speak them.
"Would you tell me the truth if I asked you what I should do?"
I just sigh through my nose—a forceful exhale that resembles a laugh more than anything. This is my chance to get back in his good graces again, but my failures with Lily don't give me much to say.
"She said she wants 'space,' but...she sounded pretty certain that she still wants to be with you. So I'd recommend pulling back a little until we're in California again. Just so she can breathe."
He closes his eyes in response, and I immediately know that's the last thing he wanted to hear. But, confident that his anger is gone, I close the gap between us and put my hand on his shoulder as a condolence. Even if we're at odds, I can't help but send him a little bit of my energy—I know from experience that the next two weeks will likely be the toughest of his relationship.
"Welcome to the dog house."