Ryan, Tarah and I didn’t talk at all. We avoided each other like the plague and I had started looking for another apartment.
Ironically, in a moment of clarity, Ivy had agreed to cooperate with the divorce and allowed me to continue as her conservator. It was the only thing going my way, but I wasn’t sure it mattered anymore now that I had lost the love of my life.
Aside from the paperwork, nothing had changed with Ivy. I was still going to Boston every weekend and actually spent more time at the home, even when she was at her worst. It helped get my mind off of Nina and to reassure Ivy that the pending divorce wouldn’t change my being there for her. I had all the time in the world now that I had nothing to rush back to in New York.
I didn’t care one way or the other about the divorce anymore. My family convinced me to go through with it, though, since there was now a post-marriage plan in place.
***
Back in Brooklyn one night, there was a knock at the door, and I opened it without checking the peephole.
Something hit me in the face and nearly broke my nose.
“What the fuck!?”
My hands covered my face, and I was about to punch the lights out of the person until I looked down at the weapon: a bag. It had a cheesy picture of a boy band on it. The assailant was a petite girl with no hair. The realization of who this was set in.
“Jerk!” she yelled.
I dabbed my nose again checking for blood. “Skylar?”
“That’s what you get for hurting my friend, ass nuts,” she said, brushing past me into the apartment.
Sarcastically, I said, “It’s nice to meet you too, finally. Come in.”
She dumped her bag and plopped down on the couch. She looked pale and weak. Fuck…this girl shouldn’t be here.
“Do you have any water?” she asked.
“Yeah…sure.” I rushed to the kitchen to pour her a glass and tapped my nose, which was tingling as I looked over at her. She clearly wasn’t feeling well. It amazed me that she would come all the way over here, sick and all, to stand up for her friend.
I handed her the water, and she took it, drinking it down.
I sat on the opposite side of the couch. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel like I look,” she said abruptly.
“How did you get here?”
“I took a cab.”
“Did you leave the hospital?”
She leaned back and kicked her feet up on the couch. “Look, I’m not here for small talk.”
“Okay.”
“Did you or did you not screw that tramp?”
I looked her keenly in the eye. “I swear to you that I didn’t. I swear. I know that Nina doesn’t believe me because of what she thinks she saw.”
She stared into my eyes then said, “I kind of figured that.”
“Figured what?”
“That maybe you didn’t.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you would have to be an idiot to cheat on Nina. She has a heart like Mother Theresa and a body like Barbie. Well, maybe more like Badonkadonk Skipper. Anyway, she’s hot. She’s everything.”
Ain’t that the truth.
“You believe me?”
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure until I looked into your eyes just now. I have this intuition, and I think you’re telling the truth.”
Relieved, I let out a deep breath. “Thank you. Thank you, Skylar.”
She started coughing, and I immediately got up to get her more water before placing it on the coffee table and sitting back down.
“Anyway, she’s miserable. She is depressing the shit out of me and that’s pretty hard to do to someone who already has cancer.”
I chuckled even though I probably shouldn’t have. “What do you think I should do? Tell me. I’ll do anything.”
Was I really asking a 15-year-old for advice? Desperate times call for desperate measures. This girl did seem wise beyond her years, though.
“You need to grow some balls, man. Stand up for yourself until she sees nothing but the truth in your eyes. Take back what’s yours! It might take a hundred tries, but you can’t just give up.”
Shaking my head in agreement I was silent until it clicked. “Fight for her…”
She sat up and smacked my arm. “You’re a genius, Tommy Lee.”
Skylar stayed for about a half hour. She went on and on about some guy named Mitch and I just listened. It was the least I could do because the inspiration she just gave me was priceless.
I insisted on giving her money for the cab ride home. Before she walked out the door, she turned to me and said, “Life is short, Jake. You’re going to regret it for the rest of your life if you let her go.”
She was right.