Behind His Lens(83)

When I read about him back then, the wounds were fresh and I could hardly process the written words in my mind without sliding back into the dark void. Now, the articles seem less severe and I can process them with a hardened perspective. Certain words still jump out at me — criminal, father, life imprisonment. But I hold my breath as I read each one and push forward, past the pain.

A hard knock on my apartment door jars me away from the middle of an article.

“Charley!” Naomi yells from the other side. She’s been by every day this week, but I can’t talk to her right now. She’s my best friend, and I hate ignoring her, but if I let her in, she’ll do what she always does— make me forget. Right now, I need to keep up my momentum or I’ll never dig up my demons.

“Charley! Please, let me in. This is ridiculous.” Her anguished tone pierces through the oak door, but I can’t let her in.

It would be too easy to fall back into old habits if I did. My nails run across my bottom lip anxiously as I try to decide what the best option is. I know I’m doing the right thing, but I shouldn’t ignore her either. I don’t want her to have to worry. With a resolved sigh, I shove my computer off my lap and pad across my apartment toward the door. My socked feet thump softly across the wood floor and I know she’s probably relieved to hear movement; to know that I’m alive.

With both of my palms pressed against the oak surface, I lean in and console her. “Naomi. I’m fine; I just need some privacy for a few days. Don’t worry about me. I love you, and I’ll text you when I can.”

“Charley, that’s not good enough.”

“Please,” my voice cracks with the plea, and I pray she doesn’t keep fighting me. There’s so much weighing me down; I just need her to understand.

“I’ll give you a week, but not a day more.”

In spite of everything, the edges of my lips curl at her loyal persistence. One day, I know I’ll be just as good of a friend as she’s been to me these past few years.

…

Jude

Bennett stalks into the living room and slams a six pack of beer onto the coffee table. I barely flinch. I’ve had the TV on for the past few hours even if the noise hasn’t actually been registering. Bennett raises his eyebrows as he steps over an empty pizza box that’s a few days old.

“I see you’ve been taking good care of the place,” he mocks, taking a seat in the overstuffed arm chair adjacent to the couch.

“Fuck off,” I snap back, although most of my words are lost in the cushions pressed against my mouth.

“That bad, huh?” he asks, popping the top of his beer.

“You don’t want to know.” I push my upper body up off the leather couch cushions and reach for one of the beers.

“How are things with Naomi?” I ask, not because I want to hear it, but because Bennett should be able to talk to me even if I’m a mess.

“Pretty good. We made it official while you guys were in Hawaii.”

“Wow. That was fast.”

“Not really. We aren’t twenty-one anymore. It’s pretty easy to tell if things can work.”

He leaves out the other part where it’s also easy to tell if things won’t work.

“I like her,” I offer, finally meeting his eye.

“Thanks,” he mutters with a skeptical glance.

We sit in silence for a while after that, letting the football game on my flat screen take over our conversation. My mind’s not really focused on anything. The game filters through my ears, but I don’t listen. The beer slides down my throat, but I don’t taste it.

“Dude, what the hell is up with you? I haven’t seen you like this since you got back from overseas.”

I don’t answer because I don’t know what to say to that other than the raw truth, which I haven’t even been willing to admit to myself until this very moment.

“I didn’t account for Charley.”

Fuck, saying it out loud, putting the feelings out into the oblivion, somehow makes it even worse, but my vocal cords don’t stop. “I wasn't prepared for her to wreck my life. You know that night at the club when Natasha came to meet me again? I could’ve slept with her, but I walked away and just left her hanging.”

“Why the hell did you do that?”

“Because Charley and Naomi were at the club. I saw them on the dance floor,” I declare, finally sharing that snippet of information with someone.