My keys scrape against the door as I turn the knob. Entering the apartment, I quietly shut the door behind me and tiptoe to the bathroom. With six months experience, I leave my pajamas in the bathroom so I don't disturb Damon when I come in late, which is almost every night. Leaving the bathroom, I make my way to the living room. I turn on the small light in the right corner of the room and walk to the couch, snuggling under the covers. Taking a quick glance at my watch, the time is 1 a.m.
While I love helping Amelia with wedding planning and her late night worries, it takes time away from being with the boys. And, with the rustling of sheets, they both come out of their respective rooms to come join me on the couch. Damon has my head in his lap, massaging my scalp, while Brandon holds my feet, rubbing them. A content sigh leaves my lips, but guilt washes through me as I look at them. The dark bags under their eyes show me just how much of a burden I am.
"I'm sorry I woke you both up. I could have sworn I was quiet."
"It's okay. We're glad that you made it home safe," Damon replies with a tired smile.
Settling down, the three of us, somehow, fit comfortably on the couch. Damon and Brandon's light snoring fill the room, but I lay wide awake, thinking about the day ahead. Therapy in the morning, working on revisions my editor sent over, talking to the boys about moving into my new apartment, and then helping Amelia finalize some wedding decisions. With those thoughts swirling in my mind, I fall into a restless sleep, stressed about the day to come.
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My head is foggy as I leave the therapist's office. The interior is a warm brown color with magazines in the waiting room and calming pictures on the walls. The exterior is a completely different story with traffic rushing by the small parking lot. Neither setting helps ease the current tornado currently wreaking havoc with my thoughts.
I walk to my car in a daze trying to make some sense out of our latest session. She explained that working on changing my more negative thoughts into positive ones will improve how I feel about the situation, my overall mood, and change some of my behaviors. However, it does not come with a disclaimer that changing these thoughts is taxing and leaves you feeling more confused and disoriented than when you went in. But it also provides peace and solace… once you process those new revelations.
In the safety of my car, I close my eyes and focus on picking one of the thoughts currently floating around in my brain: feeling as though I'm not good enough to have the family I created. Digging deeper, I'm not good enough because I have self-destructive tendencies and bad things tend to follow me. First my parents dying and then being kidnapped. I'm bad luck. I have always been bad luck. As a tear rolls down my cheek, my therapist's voice rings through my head, reminding me to change that thought. My parents dying was not my fault, I did not kill them; it was a tragic accident. Being kidnapped was not my fault. I was merely a pawn in a dangerous game that we all paid the price for. If these events, the premises for my conclusion that I am not good enough, are not my fault, then that would mean the conclusion would be false, I am good enough for my family. Now, I just have to act that way. Stop feeling like I am such a burden, and move forward in my healing journey so I can be the person that they need me to be.
Opening my eyes, my head has cleared; the tornado dismantled. I feel better, but I know it is not this easy to change one's thought patterns; it takes work. I am willing to put in that work and will continue to use this exercise whenever these thoughts pop into my head because, after everything we have been through, my family has stuck by my side and I want them to be in my life forever, so I need to start repaying that favor.
With determination encompassing my mind and body, I drive back to the apartment building. The parking lot is slightly busier than normal with a moving truck idling near the exit of the building and the tenants, who previously rented my old apartment, are talking with the movers whose carts are loaded with boxes. The sight before me is not surprising, but rather exciting. I have already spoken to the property manager for this complex and have been able to rent back my old apartment starting tomorrow. I was surprised at the quick turnaround, but grateful nonetheless. All that's left to do is move my belongings back into my apartment and a slightly more delicate task of telling the boys.
I park my car far away from the scene in front of me and enter the building, a smile on my face. Finally, we can move forward and start living our own lives, the way we chose, not because we were pushed together after a traumatic series of events. The stairway is quiet, the movers must be done. I let the quiet consume me, bringing me inner peace before my confrontation. The quiet continues as I enter the hallway and then the apartment. Instead of the quiet being calming, as it once was, it becomes slightly confusing and lonely.
While I had been trying to get my life back to normal with going to work, setting up for my new-old apartment, working on getting my book published, and attending therapy, the boys have been doing the same thing. They have resumed to work full-time again and piecing everything back together like it was long before they met me. It finally feels as if we are all in a place to really move forward and grow from our experiences.
With the thought of growth on my mind, I grab my laptop from Damon's room and settle down at the kitchen table to get to work on those revisions - the last little pieces preventing my work from being published. Pulling up the document, I search for the accompanying playlist to support my writing. The songs vary from pop to indie to rock but it helps me focus and gets me in the mood for working. As the first song starts to play, I click on the first comment left on my work. The time passes as I continue to resolve comment by comment, song after song blaring from my computer's speakers until, finally, the last comment is completed and the final draft is submitted to my publisher. The pop-up message of "message sent" comes a sense of relief like a weight being lifted off of my shoulders. At the same time, it makes me anxious as I remember the last time the manuscript was brought up with the boys. I can only hope this time goes much better than before because, even though, they took the time to read the ending and gave me their approval, this is going to officially be published now. People will be able to read about and judge our lives.
As that thought finishes, the door opening pulls my eyes away from my computer where it was staring at the "sent" portion of my email to Damon and Brandon as they walk the short distance from the door to the table where they join me. I shut off my music as they sit down across from me.
"How was your day?" I ask. While I do care about how their day was, I am also trying to gauge their moods to determine how our talk is going to go.
"Busy."
"Fine."
Their replies are short and nondescript which tells me nothing.
"Busy can be good and having a fine day is better than a bad one, I suppose."
Neither seem to be in much of a talking mood, so I take the opportunity and use the silence to say my piece.
"I actually wanted to talk to you both about something. Well, two somethings." I wait for a reply, but they both look expectantly at me. "First, uh…" my nerves take over as flashbacks of the first time this manuscript was brought up fill my mind. "well, um… well, my-my book- my editor sent me the final revisions for my book a couple of days ago. Since, I was already off today because I had therapy, I used the last few hours to go through them and send the final draft to my publisher. If everything goes according to plan, it should be published within the next few months." I take a deep breath and wait for their reactions. My fingers twist in my lap and my heart rate slightly accelerates.
"So, this is officially happening?" Damon questions. I try my best to make out his tone with no prevail.
"Y-yes. But-but, you know, people won't, like, know it is about us."
Using Damon's silence to his advantage, Brandon asks, "what happens now?"
"Well, now, we wait to see if she approves of the final revisions. Once she does that, she will continue to promote the book, increasing our advertising, and then put it on pre-order before the official release. We hope the process takes no more than three months."
Again, silence ensues. I don't know how to take it. "Uh… I know this book has been slightly conflicting for us, but I want to thank you both for allowing me to continue with it. This book means a lot to me because it portrays how important you both are in my life. And, as you both know, it has played a pretty crucial part after everything that happened."
"And the other thing?" Damon moves on as soon as the last word is out of my mouth.
"Oh, well, I- well, good news! The people who were renting my apartment moved out so I am moving back in!" I say with as much enthusiasm as possible, a bigger-than-necessary smile pulling at my lips.
"Why?" They both question in unison, their tones slightly defensive.
"I need to have my own space to grow and to give you both your own space. I know I have been coming in really late from helping Amelia and you both aren't sleeping. Plus, after everything happened, everything moved so quickly, but we are healing and can move forward now. I think part of that is not relying on the both of you so much. This will be really good for all of us. I'm also only across the hall and you'll both have keys so it won't make much of a difference."
More silence fills the space as the boys look at each other, no doubt they are communicating without speaking.
"When are you moving out?"
"I'll start moving my things back into the apartment tomorrow after work."
"And you waited until today to tell us?" Brandon's tone is annoyed and hurt.
"Everything moved so quickly and I've been coming home so late every night that I haven't had a chance to tell you both. I mean, it will be a change, but I'm only moving across the hall."
"This is the problem, Rose! For you, it's a minor change, but you do everything without asking us how we would feel about it. Did you ask us if we wanted you to move out? No! Are we not enough to help you grow? Apparently not. Honestly, if you're so worried about leaning on us too much, then stop asking us for help instead of moving out entirely when we already have a routine and good living situation," Damon rants, his hands clenched in front of him.
I'm taken aback by his admission and look to Brandon for help, but his hands are also clenched and the vein in his neck is straining against his skin.
"I-I'm sorry. I mean, I thought it would be better. You know? I want us to take things at our own pace to actually think about our choices instead of them being thrust upon us."
"Is that what we did, Rose? Did we thrust living with us upon you? Did we thrust our family upon you? Did we thrust our feelings upon you?" Damon's tone is condescending, his voice raising with each question.
"No! No, that is not what I mean at all! Jeez, Damon. All I mean is that you both were fine before I came into the picture then everything happened and the minute I came back, everything was about me. I just want you both to, I don't know, live your own lives," my chest is rising and falling rapidly. "And, honestly, Damon, I just want you both to be happy. I want to be happy and I need to become independent again."
"Independent?" He asks with a scoff. "When were you ever independent, Rose? You don't even cook, for Christ's sake!"
My body flinches as if he just hit me. In a way, he did. I want to retaliate, to argue, but, he's right, I did this without consulting them. I would be mad if they did the same thing to me.
"Look, I understand where you both are coming from. I didn't do this to hurt either of you. I want us to be more like other people, move in together because it is the next logical step - not a fear driven one. Look, what about this, we try it out for a month or two and, if we decide it's not right, I give my 60-day notice and move back in here?"
The silence expands for one second…two…my nerves grow thin until finally, Brandon breaks the silence. "Fine, but, from now on, we make important decisions together." His tone is stern.
"Deal."
With the conflict settled and emotions back to baseline, the boys ask me more questions about the book and publication process. Before we know it, it is time for me to leave to meet with Amelia. Tonight is where we are finalizing the food and cake for the wedding.
My body fills with excitement over tonight's task. One, I will never complain about trying free food, and, two, this is a major task for the wedding so it will be nice to cross it off.
Saying goodbye to the boys, they respond similarly as I'm walking out of the door. As always, the hallway and stairwell are quiet. It takes me less than two minutes before my car's radio breaks the silence. It blares from the open windows and into the early evening. Pulling out of the parking lot, I turn right into traffic. Damon's car easily follows my movements and before I know it, I'm turning into a smaller parking lot of a mom and pop restaurant that Amelia loves. Amelia is already waiting for me at the front as I exit my car.
"Hey, girly! Ready for tonight?" Her excitement is contagious and I feel my mood lift.
"I'm always ready for free food. Let's do this!" I say, sticking my hand into the air like a general commanding his soldiers forward.
As soon as we walk into the restaurant, the smell of garlic and marinara sauce waft into my nose. Italian is my favorite cuisine - you can never go wrong with some good, homemade, italian food.
"Welcome, Amelia! It is good to see you, my dear!" An older woman with gray hair, tied neatly in a bun, wearing an apron over black clothing welcomes us. The restaurant is painted a light brown color with booths covering the outer walls, smaller tables strategically placed in the center of the space. The walls are decorated with family photos, emphasizing the homey feel of the place. The woman guides us to a booth in the back corner, away from other patrons.
"We have prepared a little bit of everything so you can decide what you would like for your special day!" The woman slightly gushes towards the end, a smile covering her entire face.
"Thank you, Lucy. Rose and I are excited to see what you have for us."
Lucy walks away from our table after that, returning only moments later with a tray completely covered in food. We tried everything from lasagna to ravioli to chicken piccata and marsala, both of us engrossed in the task of choosing the perfect menu and writing down our thoughts on little notecards. By the time we finished eating, I was stuffed and unsure of what she should include.
"Thoughts?" Amelia asks, her hands on her stomach.
"Maybe we should do two meat and two pasta options?"
"That works, but how are we going to choose?" Her voice turns into a slight whine at the end of her question, her hands dramatically thrown up in the air.
"Maybe pick the less messy meals since you'll be wearing white?"
Amelia ponders over my suggestion for a moment before nodding her head. "Good idea. So, spaghetti and lasagna are out. What about the ravioli with the white wine sauce and the carbonara?"
"I agree. Those sound good. For the meat, should we do the chicken picatta and the braciole? Then we could also do the caprese salad or caesar salad as a starter."
"That all sounds good. For dessert we could do tiramisu and maybe a gelato station?"
"Yes! That sounds amazing. Can they do that?"
With all the important decisions made, Amelia calls Lucy back over to ask our questions and make sure they can accommodate our menu. With a short conversation, the menu was finalized and Amelia's energy was seeping out of her pores.
As we walked out of the restaurant, her contained excitement bursts. "We are so close! I can't wait to walk down the aisle to my man!"
"Your day is going to be perfect!"
After talking for a couple of more minutes, we part ways, both of us ready to go home and relax for the night.
Getting into my own car, I take a minute and breathe. Today was a lot but everything feels like it is falling into place and moving forward. Amelia and Duke are almost done with their wedding preparations, the boys and I are starting to fall into a normal routine and I am starting to feel more like a well-rounded person instead of the shell I used to be. With everything looking so bright, I look to the sky, thanking those above for bringing my family to me.