Letting Go (Chapter-27)

Jilliana

Jilliana had slept so soundly that when her phone alarm went off at 7:00am she didn’t wake up until the fourth ring. The alarm was initially set for Serena, who was the only one planning on going to work that day, but Jilliana could hear that she was already up and taking a shower.

“They’re gonna ask you, sooner or later, if you’re planning on going back,” Serena said as she joined Jilliana on Patrick’s pull-out couch minutes later. She was dressed in a tight fitted black dress with her hair wrapped in a towel.

“Doubt it,” Jilliana said, laying on her back and staring up at the ceiling, “they’ve probably replaced me by now.”

“Jills, you can’t just assume the world is going to stop turning because of all this.”

“I’m not. I was gonna quit working at that shit hole anyway,” Jilliana rolled over to face towards the window and away from her sister.

“Well that ‘shit hole’ is what’s going to pay for your food. I’m not gonna pay for that. And Patrick won’t either.”

Before Jilliana could respond, Patrick’s voice erupted from behind them.

“I won’t pay for what?”

Jilliana pushed herself up. She felt a small flutter in her chest when she saw him, standing behind the couch in a white undershirt and green Nike shorts, his hair disheveled from sleeping. He gave her a small smile that she immediately returned. She fought the urge to jump across the couch and fall into his arms the same way she had the night before at the police station.

“You won’t let her quit her job,” Serena said firmly, pulling a brush from her suitcase lying open on the floor, “because the whole world doesn’t revolve around her. Or any of us.”

“That’s true,” Patrick replied as he turned to the kitchen, “but you two have been through hell. It may be a good idea if you both stayed away from work for a while.”

Jilliana glanced at Serena and smiled, sensing her annoyance.

“Pat, you know that’s unrealistic. We have to think of what our lives are going to be like after this is all over, and I for one don’t want to be homeless and unemployed.” Serena pulled the towel from her hair and secured it into a high bun. Jilliana rolled off of the bed, remembering that she had nothing on but underwear and one of Patrick’s old high school t-shirts. She was small, so it fell right above her knees, but she still felt a need for more clothing.

“Hey,” Jilliana said softly to Serena, who was putting on a pair of red heels, “do you have any sweatpants or something? I don’t have any of my things.”

She watched Serena stop mid-shoe, reach into her suitcase, and toss over a pair of grey sweatpants.

“Thanks,” Jilliana said as she pulled them on, “how late were you out last night anyway? I thought you were just going back to get your things so I tried to wait up… but I fell asleep pretty quickly.”

Serena stood up, now two inches taller in her heels, “I didn’t get back here till after one,” she squeezed foundation makeup from a small tube and applied it to her wrists, “I… left my phone at our apartment. In the front, I think. I must have dropped it when I called 911. I don’t know.” She reached for her purse and shoved her car keys inside, “They sent me back with an officer to get my things and look for it, but we couldn’t find it anywhere. They didn’t seem too worried - the officer, or Agent Keene. I think they thought I was being paranoid about the whole thing.”

“We’re all pretty paranoid right now,” Patrick joined the conversation, holding a freshly brewed cup of coffee in his left hand, “Did they try tracking it? They should be able to, even with a flip phone.”

“I don’t know,” Serena said as she pulled the purse over right shoulder, “They told me to go home, that they’d call me today if they found it. I’ll see Agent Keene anyway during my lunch break.” Serena turned toward the door.

“Why are you meeting with her - Keene, I mean?” Jilliana asked as her sister unbolted the lock.

Serena turned the knob and responded without turning to face them, “It’s uh… she wants to meet with me and an attorney about Michelle Wilkes’ will.”

Jilliana waited for Serena to close the door behind her before turning, brushing past Patrick, and walking straight to the cigarette drawer in the kitchen.

“Where’s the lighter?” Jilliana turned, squeezing a fresh cigarette between her lips.

Patrick walked quietly to the bookshelf on the opposite side of the room and picked up a lighter from the top shelf.

“Bring the pack,” he said, “I could use a smoke.” Jilliana watched him take a seat on the pull out couch, then pulled a half filled box of Camels out of the drawer.

They sat together in silence at first, Patrick with his legs off the edge of the bed, and Jilliana sitting cross legged beside him. Jilliana enjoyed the stillness, hearing the soft sounds of their exhales, and watching their clouds of smoke drift into the sunlight streaming through the windows. Moments ago, it felt as though Jilliana had too many thoughts crowding her mind to focus, but as the time passed she was able to think more clearly.

“So, the uhh… the thing with Roy was nothing,” Jilliana didn’t know why, of all things, she was bringing up Roy. She had been waiting all night to have time alone with Patrick, and now that she had it she had no idea what to say or do. She took a puff of her cigarette, trying to think of something else to say, when Patrick spoke.

“It’s okay. It’s no big deal.”

Jilliana looked at him, then down to the floor. An awkward silence followed - one that she knew could only be ended by a discussion she wasn’t prepared to have. She cleared her throat, hoping that words - the right words - would come out and fix the uneasiness. But neither of them spoke, so they continued to sit in silence for as long as it took for Jilliana to finish her cigarette.

“I’m thirsty,” Jilliana said. She stood, put her cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee table, and walked to the kitchen. As she filled a glass with tap water, Jilliana glanced back at Patrick, who looked like a statue with puffs of smoke emanating from his head every couple of seconds. She took several gulps of water and quietly made her way back to the living room.

“You want some water, Pat?” she said, offering him her half-filled glass.

Patrick glanced at the water, took one final drag of his cigarette, then pressed it firmly into the ashtray.

“Jilliana, I don’t want to make this about me,” Patrick leaned his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together, “I mean, you’re going through a lot of shit right now. But-- I need to know what’s going on in your head. About me. About us.” He spoke slowly and resolutely. Jilliana lowered her hand holding the glass of water.

Shit. Shit. Shit, she thought as he turned and met her eyes. She could feel her heart pulse faster as he continued.

“I know how we left it yesterday, but I need to ask you. One more time. Then I’ll never bring it up again, okay?” Patrick softly patted the space beside him, inviting her to take a seat. Jilliana hesitated at first, then placed the glass of water on the coffee table and sat down, keeping her eyes forward.

What do I say? She thought, knowing that it was her turn to speak. I love him. But I’d hurt him. I know it.

“Pat, I --” she tried to think of a way to stall, to give her more time to think. But she knew she didn’t have the time. She had to give him a final, clear answer. She owed him that much.

“Patrick, I can’t lie to you. Well, I can - I lie all the time…” You’re stalling, your stalling, she thought, “but I can’t lie to you. You’re the only person in my life who wouldn’t judge me for lying, and yet I can’t get myself to be anything but honest with you.”

Jilliana looked through the window, “So, yea. I… love you. I think I’ve always kinda loved you.” She turned to look at him. His eyebrows had lifted slightly, and she saw a small smile forming on his lips.

“But,” she continued, “I can’t let this happen. I can’t let us happen. Not now, not ever. I’m a fucked-up person, Patrick. You know that more than anyone.”

Patrick dropped his head forward and laughed quietly.

“Jills,” he said, shaking his head, “you don’t understand, do you? That’s why I love you. Because I’m fucked up too - everyone is. You’re just not afraid to show it.”

Jilliana let out a small laugh, “I guess that’s one way to put it.”

“I want to give this a try,” Patrick said as he moved closer to her, “I know life is crazy, so I don’t mean right now. But in the future, when this is all over.”

Jilliana could feel her breaths grow shallow as she looked back at him. She loved him so much in that second and wanted more than anything to give herself to him completely, then and there. She wanted to speak, but all her words ceased as Patricked lifted his hand to her cheek and gently caressed her skin with his fingers, causing goosebumps to rise along her back as his hand traveled down her neck. Jilliana thought at first that she wasn’t thinking clearly - that she was exhausted and too aroused by his touch to make a logical decision. But as she looked into his eyes, she realized that the only true thing in her world at that moment was that she wanted Patrick. She needed Patrick. And as he pulled her into his arms for a long, passionate kiss, Jilliana felt, for the first time in years, that she was in the right place at the right time - that she was exactly where she belonged.