43. MADDY

43

MADDY

The seven weeks I spent with Raven flew by, and the two weeks that followed that meeting at Archer's felt like mourning. In hindsight, I should've known that he and I weren't just mindless nights of fucking. It wasn't just a deal. When I decided to block him out of my existence in hope that he would understand what's happening, I wasn't expecting that I was hurting myself.

The first text message from Raven came later the day of the meeting at Archer's.

Raven: You can lie to me and tell me this was an experiment for you, but I know you wanted it as much as I did.

I didn't respond. Of course, he thinks he knows everything. So then he doesn't need my answer.

An hour later, another text came.

Raven: Just admit it, Maddy.

I ignored it though it took all my willpower not to scream then send him a voice message, angry and hurtful, and call him a coward. Even now, when he knows the truth, he still won't ask me how I feel, why I actually did what I did, why I agreed to that deal, what I wanted, and what I want now, when this deal is up.

Another message came. Three more followed. Raven would've never texted me so much in his right mind. Especially without getting an answer. There was one explanation—he was drinking, though I've never seen him drunk enough to be so careless with words.

I never responded to those messages. He could've called. He could've come and asked to talk to me.

He never did. Not that night, not in the next two weeks that followed.

There is no sight of him, though I know he is not hiding. Ali and Nilanski talk to him, talk on the phone to him when I'm around. I was there, walking shoulder to shoulder with Ali as he was on the phone with Raven, and my body was on fire, my mind dizzy with the desire to rip the phone out of Ali's hand and tell that guy on the other side that he is a coward.

I didn't. I got home and cried, because the days without Raven were disintegrating my sanity, and my pride got the best of me.

I can call him myself. But I don't want to ask him for attention, for a chance to talk.

He doesn't ask either. That's the thing about Raven. He never asks me. He tells me. Tells me what I want and what I do, explains to me why I do it and how I feel like he is a fucking psychic. Even outside Archer's house, he never asked me why I agreed to the deal with him when Archer and Kat had already uncovered my secret.

Little is gloomy most days. He comes to see me at work or at the house, sits on the couch and suggests one thing after another, but all of them somehow involve Raven.

"Little, sweetheart, Raven and I don't really want to be around each other lately," I explain.

He gives me a sad look. "Why?"

"It's complicated." Isn't that the greatest cliché phrase of all time?

"Why?" he insists.

"Why don't you ask Raven?"

"I did."

I freeze. "What did he say?"

"Said 's complicated."

I want to laugh except tears burn my eyes, and I start vigorously unpacking the stupid Thai food that Little loves so much because Raven introduced him to it.

Little fumbles with a book in his hands.

"What's that?" I ask, trying to distract myself from crying with Thai food and random conversations.

" The Secret Garden ," he says.

"Yeah? Are you reading it?"

"I can't," he admits with a little pout. "I will, soon. Wanna read Rave's books. Wanna be like him when I grow up."

I look away, my heart squeezing so tightly at the mention of him again and this little guy seeing the best in a man who could probably learn something from this kid's straightforwardness.

I put the food on two plates for Little and me.

"Spicy calamari!" he reminds me from the couch.

"I know, I know. Come eat." I set the plates on the kitchen island and when we both sit next to each other, I can't help but ask Little, "What's his house like?"

His eyes dart to me with anticipation like I just suggested going there. "Rave's?"

"Yeah."

He shrugs. "'S all right. Nothing much there. Books. Many books."

"Hmm."

"I'm gonna read ‘em all one day."

And I am going to clean after dinner, then sit on the dark balcony and have a discussion with Raven, if only in my mind, for the gazillionth time in two weeks.

Raven never asked me if I wanted to come to his place, like I wasn't worthy. He never asked me if I wanted him . And when he realized he didn't have a say anymore, he still asserted, "You want me."

All I wanted was for him to tell me that he wanted me in his life, and not just for the sake of having a regular fuck. But he thinks admitting that he wants me is a weakness. I think it's cowardice.

Everyone knows about Rave and me now. And everyone gets under my skin about it.

Even Kai suddenly asks me about him the next day as we sit on their patio with Callie, Ty, Ya-Ya, and I watch them grill steaks, but all I think is about my phone in my pocket and whether I should be the bigger person and send Raven a text. Missing him was never supposed to be so painful.

"Why are you asking about him?" I ask Kai, and Callie exchanges awkward glances with Ty.

"Because something is up with you and him."

"Is there?"

"Maddy, seriously…" He stares me down like it's a competition until I shrug and snap, "What?"

"He is a mess."

"Is he?"

"Yes. And I don't even know him that well. We shoot guns now and then. He always seems so sharp, so alert. He is like a panther pouncing around the jungle. The other day…" Kai exchanges glances with Ty. "We saw him on the beach, wanted to chat. He was… He was drunk, Maddy. On edge. Like he is losing his shit. Trust me, I saw that in Crone when he was binging. When you hit that edge, it's a fine line between sanity and making a split-second decision to fuck things up and your life too while you are at it."

Poetic. But that's Kai. The fight with Crone and Callie and the fire accident back in college gave him some sharp edges, and he still managed to dull them and worked through the personal trauma to be the awesome human being that he is.

But my thing with Raven is none of his business. No one's really.

What makes it hard to go through every day is being with friends, seeing them happy and carefree, while I want to turn into a puddle on the floor.

So, I leave early and call to pick up a night shift at the medical center.

Even Ali and Nilanski, who take shifts following me around every day, remind me of Rave.

At least work is somewhat distracting. Until—seriously, this is torture—Dr. Hodges starts a conversation about relationships.

It's late night, and I'm working the front desk, sorting through the files, when Dr. Hodges walks up.

"How are you, Maddy?" he asks as he leans on my desk and takes his glasses off.

"Fine," I say quietly.

He shouldn't even be here at this time, and his last patient was two hours ago, but he is the sort of person who likes to work late and do research.

"You haven't been fine in a while," he says as he slowly and meticulously wipes his glasses with a cloth.

I have the utmost respect for Dr. Hodges, but here we go—another person telling me how I feel, like they are my personal shrink.

"Back in the day,"—he puts his glasses on and leans on the desk—"I worked at a fighting association for a year or so."

"I didn't know that."

"It's not as traumatic as working in the emergency room." He chuckles softly. "But that's not why I'm telling you that. I saw plenty of men who make a living and career breaking others' bones. Plenty of men who made a living breaking others' lives, too. It's unusual, but some of the most charming men can be complete jerks and sadists. Some of the toughest, most brutal men I met had the most caring personalities. You learn it when you work with people. Men especially. We are conditioned to be tough."

I nod. "We've all been conditioned by the Change to be tough."

He looks at me thoughtfully for some time. "You know what I think humans' biggest flaw is?"

I don't stop sorting the files on the desk but raise my eyes at him. His gaze is sad, somehow. For a moment, I wonder if this has something to do with his personal life back on the mainland.

"What is it?" I finally press.

"Not seeing past your own feelings and losing perspective."

"Hmm."

"I had a fighter once. Champion fighter. Six foot five. Body of a Hercules. His girlfriend was this tiny, charming girl, half his height. His hand could wrap around her waist. I joked to her once, wondered how he doesn't squeeze the life out of her by accident in his sleep. She laughed. ‘He is a gentle giant,' she said. ‘Total puppy with me. I love him. It's funny how men only let their loved ones see their soft side.' They were madly in love, those two. He was a world boxing champion. He was… tough in the ring. Brutal, yes. But when I was taking care of him after the fights, she was always there, and he was a different person. He might have just pummeled someone half to death, but the way he looked at her was…" Dr. Hodges exhales at the memory. "… as if he was ready to lie down on hot coals and let her walk all over him."

I smile. "It's a great story."

I wonder if he's saying this because of Raven. Dr. Hodges has seen him around, asked me about us.

"Are they still together?" I ask. There's gotta be a moral to this story.

"She died of cancer. A week later, he took a bottle full of sleeping pills."

My heart twists, and in seconds, my eyes burn.

Dr. Hodges clears his throat and straightens up. "What I'm saying is that women are much better at dealing with feelings. Men tend to lose perspective. In this way, women are much stronger than us." He smiles sadly.

When he walks away, I bite my lower lip and sit for the longest time, mindlessly flicking the file pages in front of me and trying really hard not to cry.