cracks

Chapter 8

*LIA*

I did not sleep after Mom left, how could I?

Not with him at the window. ....Back to me. No shirt. Shoulders tight like he was holding the whole house up. Spine like a wall. Every line of his body was screaming come closer.

My phone was on the nightstand My dress was on the chair folded neat. Like he touched it carefully Like he touched me and hated himself for it.

Sister.

The word sat in my throat, thick, wrong, a stone I could not swallow.

I got out of bed. My legs were shaky. The shirt went to my thighs His shirt black. It smelled like cedar, like clean soap, like last night when he said you’re my sister and his heart was going crazy under my ear.

I did not look at him. I could not. If I did, he would see it all over my face. The want. The embarrassment. The I love you, Rubben still hanging in the air between us.

I walked past the bathroom it was Locked the door. Both hands on the sink cold porcelain.

I looked at the mirror, my lip was swollen, my eyes were red and my hair messy, like his hands had been on it, they had not. but they could have .

I lifted the shirt, I looked at the hip there was a scar. White line he saw it. Last night. When he pulled my dress down. His knuckles brushed my skin and he jerked back like I was fire. Like I would burn him.

Maybe I would.

I let the shirt drop.

I could still feel him. Just there. In the room. In the shirt. In my head.

I splashed cold water on my face, It did not help. The heat was inside. Under my skin. In my chest.

I love you, Rubben.

I said it out loud to the mirror, just to hear how stupid it sounded. Just to punish myself.

Stupid. Desperate. Sister.

I changed to a blue top, i folded his shirt neatly.

I went downstairs. Mom was in the kitchen making coffee but I could clearly see she was worried..

“Lia, baby, you should be in bed.”

“I’m fine,” I lied. The word tasted like ash. “Going to work.”

“Lia—”

“I’m fine.”

I left before he came down. Before I had to see his eyes. Before I had to see pity. Before I had to see nothing.

*RUBBEN*

She was gone when I went upstairs, my bed was empty ,the shirt folded.like she was saying goodbye

Good, I thought. Let her erase it. Let her erase me.

My phone was on the marble. Same place as last night. One missed call from an unknown caller One voicemail. I did not listen. I did not need to.

I went to the gym basement. No windows. No light. Just me and the bag.

taped my hands hit so hard that blood spill, but it didn't hurt, Nothing hurt compared to the sound of her voice.

I love you, Rubben.

Sister, I said, out loud, to the bag, to the wall, to me.

Say it enough and maybe it’d be true.

It was not true.

I hit until my arms were dead. Until my knuckles were raw. Until the bag was swinging and I was not.

Then I sat. Back to the wall. Head in my hands.

My phone rang. Unknown again. I answered.

“Hello, C.E.O.”

Marriott.

My whole body went cold, then hot, then still. I gripped the phone. “How the hell did you get this number?”

“I have a lot of things, Rubben, your address, your sister’s work schedule at St. Mercy.”

Sister. He said it like he knew. Like it was a joke.

He knew where she worked.

I kept my voice even. “What do you want, Marriott?”

“Everything you and your wrecked father built over the years, the boards, the contracts, the name Carter on the building.”

“You won’t have that, Marriott.”

“I will, brick by brick, just the way your father took it from me, until you’re left with nothing.”

“Try.”

“I will. This call is the first piece.”

“What’s the second.”

The call ended.

I was about to drop my phone on the marble when it buzzed. Email. No subject. Attachment only.

Video file. Eight seconds long.

I opened it.

I was age ten on the floor crying,

Me. Age ten. Floor. Crying. Hands small. Face wet.

Behind me, a voice I had not heard in twenty years.

My mother. On the tile blood all over

She said a name I never heard her

Marriott

I deleted it. Instant.

I could not breathe.

I went upstairs.

I should have said no. I did not. I was tired of drowning alone.

*LIA*

Work was going well, I had some patients file to attend to Med, chat and so on.

Jen looked at me.

“God, Lia, you look dead.”

“My last name is Carter now,” I said, and it felt like a lie in my mouth.

My phone buzzed, Daniel ER nurse

“You left early yesterday, you okay?”

I did not answer.

i left too early, told them it was magrine, my head was splitting

later after my shift , I went home ..mom was out while Mr Carter door was shut.

I went home. House was still. Mom was out. Mr. Carter’s door was shut.

i opened the front door , I heard sounds from the living room, soft ...wet , a sound I knew but have never Heard from him.

I walked in.

only to see mara on his lap, she wore his shirt, Her legs were around him. Her hands were under his shirt. On his skin. On his scar. The one by his ribs. The one I saw this morning.

His head was down. Eyes closed. Hands on her hips. Not holding. Just there. Like he was somewhere else. Like he was not there at all.

The door clicked behind me.

his eyes opened and found mine that instant, not guilt

.

Mara turned and smiled. Cat with cream.

“Hey, Lia.”

She did not move off him.

I thought of his hands last night, shaking on my zipper. I thought of the scar on his ribs I wanted to touch. I thought of sister. I thought of I love you, Rubben.

Kill it, I thought. Kill it now before it kills you.

I turned. I walked out. I did not run. Walking took everything I had.

*RUBBEN*

“Lia,” I said, I shoved Mara off my laps, she hit the couch with a sound, surprised and hurt.

“What the hell,” she said.

when I got to the door, She was gone.

a car was at the curb, Lia was getting in she did not look back, she didn't hesitate Did not see me.

just Then he drove away.

I stood there. Blood on my tape. Mara yelling behind me. “Rubben, what is wrong with you?”

And all I could smell was cedar and clean soap.

Her leaving

I went back inside. Mara was standing, her arms crossed, shirt hanging off one shoulder. My shirt.

“What was that?” she asked, voice sharp.

“Nothing” I said.

“Nothing doesn’t make you act like that,” she said. “You looked at her like—”

“Like what.”

“Like she was dying.”

I did not answer. I walked past her and went upstairs.

Sister.

The word was a lie and it was killing me.

*LIA*

“You still want that drink?” I asked, my voice was steady, I did not know how.

His eyes were careful. Kind. “Only if you do.”

“Yes,” I said, and I meant it, I had to mean it, I had to kill the thing in my chest that said Rubben’s name.

We drove. I did not look in the mirror. But I knew he was on the porch. I felt him there. Watching me choose someone else.

Good, I thought. Let him watch. Let it hurt.

the dinner was neon, Daniel talked about his sister, his dog a patient who coded and came back , he was filling everything.

.

I let him. Because if it got quiet I would hear Mara’s laugh. I would hear sister.

He reached across the table. His hand covered mine. Palm warm.

It was not Rubben’s hand.

I did not pull away. I told myself not to. If I pulled away I would think of the crack in the stone. Of Rubben’s chest close to mine. Not touching. Never touching.

So I left my hand there. I let his thumb move once. Just once. Over my knuckles.

“There,” he said. “You stopped shaking.”

I hated that he was right.

*RUBBEN*

Mara was at my apartment when I got back. She had a key. She was sitting on my bed. My black shirt, the one Lia wore, was in her hands.

“You’re not answering me,” she said.

“I’ve got nothing to say,” I said.

She stood, she threw the shirt at me, it hit my chest, nothing, weightless now.

“Is she why you can’t touch me anymore?” she asked, her voice was not loud, it was worse.

“She’s my sister,” I said, the word tasted like blood and ash.

Mara laughed, “You say it like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

She walked to the door, she stopped, she did not look back.

“Dad called,” she said. “He said to tell you to handle your family business, or he will.”

She left, the door did not slam, I wished it had.

I picked the shirt up off the floor, I brought it to my face, it smelled like nothing now, Lia had taken her scent with her, she took everything with her.

I went to the window, her light was off, Daniel’s car was gone.

I put my fist through the wall, the plaster gave, my knuckles did not, they were already broken.

Then I remembered the video. Mom. Marriott.

First piece.

What’s the second, I had asked.

I was about to find out