Chapter 20

His shoulders were hunched and his hands were in his pockets. As I watched his departing figure, common sense advised me not to go after him.

I knew I should stay put and just watch him leave. I had to put myself before this man. Before anyone else.

While I watched him walking away trying to make my decision, I felt a strange sense of deja vu. Watching the streets and Henry seemed so familiar. I tried not to make something out of nothing, even though it was glaring me in the face.

Then, I suddenly remembered where I stood: Peter's patio. The one Henry and I had sat on before abruptly deciding to go on a last minute, adventurous journey to the other side of town. I remembered the racing of my heart as he asked for my first and last name while he booked us a ticket. How rash, irresponsible and dangerous…but how memorable and fun.

It was the day I saw him buying a pizza for the homeless man on the streets that he blended so well with.

It all began to make sense...

His sense of responsibility. How thoughtful he became after we handed the man the box of pizza. While he had told me he was homeless the last time we had met, I thought it was so long ago that it wasn't something that still haunted him.

But looking at him walking down these streets that seemed to embody him so much, I knew that past was still very much a part of him.

"Stop," I found myself calling out to him before I could choose better judgment on how to handle this situation. His footsteps faltered, but he kept on going.

"HENRY!" I cried out and he stopped. Henry's stiff gait came to a slow and he turned to look at me, his surprised features turning into a sorrowful, regretful frown.

His jaw flexed as I imagined he was clenching his teeth, trying to restrain himself as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked heavenward. His profile was so picturesque.

He was so beautiful it hurt.

'The prettiest packages come with the worst gifts'.

"I'm sorry for everything Valerie. You won't see or hear from me again. I will get Chase's number from Peter later to apologize to him."

"Stop! Just stop it!" I said desperately, annoyed when my eyes welled with tears at the sight of his back again--the symbol of him always trying to evade me and the rest of the world. Henry stopped and turned, and when he saw me in tears, he grimaced and started towards me but came to a halt, as if realizing the harsh reality that he couldn't just freely touch me because of the unreliable, absentee reputation he'd built for himself.

"Just stop. And just stay there," I demanded

"I can't."

"Why?!" I asked exasperatedly.

"I don't know how to stay." 

The rage that had crept up within me last night erupted in volcanic proportions. Before I could utter a word, he beat me to it, probably noting the rage on my face.

"I'm sorry. I sound fucking stupid right now."

I pursed my lips, impatiently. Henry sighed, as though impatient with himself, and looked down at his feet as he shoved his hands into the back pockets of his pants.

"I'm used to moving. Getting too comfortable is foreign to me," he explained awkwardly. “And being comfortable requires a massive level of trust that I'm not brave enough to have."

Silence befell us. His speaking in parables had me wondering what the hell I was doing, chasing down a grown man that had nearly beaten up my date. This guy had ignored me for more than a month.

 I spun around and started back into the house when Henry's voice stalled me.

"My father is a raging alcoholic."

Stopping dead in my tracks, I whipped around to face him. It was strange, but those few words hit me like a ton of bricks. All at once bits and pieces of Henry bombarded me.

His hands still in his back pockets, his curls falling low over his forehead. A spasm shot through his jaw. His muscles were taut.

“When I told you about my father on my birthday, I left out the good details. I left out that he's a raging alcoholic. You remember when I told you he was always so hot and cold with us? On and off?" He lifted his gaze. The regretful eyes were now as emotionless as his voice. I wondered if he had to detach himself emotionally in order to relay his story.

And then again, in a topsy turvy manner, my emotions changed. All the rage I felt towards him began to scuttle away, replaced by sympathy.

More puzzles of the pieces that were Henry Walker began to come together.

My shoulders sagged as I frowned at him, "Oh no…"

I tried to imagine what it would be like to have a father that switched on and off. For the most part my father was usually off. Him being personable with me a few weeks ago when the project I worked gained recognition, was him being on, but his being on was so few and far between. He had pushed me away so far away that I barely knew him.

"My father told me a few months ago that he had stage 2 cancer. Told me the doctor said he got it from drinking too much." He guffawed and shook his head. "How could I not believe that when he has been an alcoholic for most of my life? You know what I found out? He lied to me. About having cancer. Valerie, it wasn't just any old lie." As he looked at me now I began to see the anger in his eyes, building slowly but very controlled. "He planned it all out like the sick fuck he is, forged bills and prescriptions just to prove to me that he was using all the thousands I was forwarding to him for his cancer treatment. All because of money to fund his habit. What parent lies to their kid about having fucking cancer, Val? Tell me."

I couldn't say anything and looked away from the pointed green eyes. My father had done a lot of things, but he had never stolen anything from me. In fact, financially, my father had set me up pretty comfortably in life. For all his ways, I had to give him that. And even if he was a workaholic, he had never abandoned us. I'd never heard any scandals of him having affairs or fathering other children.

"Ben had promised to stop continuously sending money to my dad at the pleading of my mom. So then my father reached out to me, saying in truth I was the only one he'd ever trusted despite it all, hence I was the only one who he allegedly told. And he claimed he didn't want to put stress on anyone else in the family, especially Ben. I didn't trust him, but how could anyone lie about something as detrimental as cancer? So in that moment, and only in that moment, I kept it to myself. Little did I know it was so he could cover up his lie better. It wasn't because he fucking trusted me."

The disgust in Henry's deep voice was palpable but I could also detect pain and infuriation I knew he was trying to mask.

My lips parted to speak, but words failed me. I couldn't believe that what he was telling me was real. Even if my father and I had a rocky relationship, I couldn't imagine him doing that to me, or to anyone else. My father, while emotionless, was not a dishonest man. I couldn’t wrap my mind around someone lying about something as serious as cancer just for a fix of whatever their habit was.

Then a bothersome trickle went down my spine when I remembered when my binging addiction had gotten so bad, the lies I'd tell just to steal away into the bathroom with my bag of goods only to hurl it all out. I felt really uncomfortable and confused but I couldn't focus on that now.

"Henry…I…"

He was looking about. His hands, now out of his pockets, were in tight fists as he slowly walked about. Then he stopped and looked heavenward, at the clouds that blanketed the sky that night.

It's one of those moments when you notice how mind-numbingly beautiful someone could be, to the point of surrealism.

Or I guess when we really cared about someone they were infinitely beautiful to us. 

Or maybe it's when we finally see the true nature of someone we thought we knew that they show their truest beauty.

If I didn't know it before, I knew it then.

This was Henry Walker. The one he hid so well.

He was chewing at his bottom lip as frustratingly as he balled his hands into fists. It's as though he was trying to make some sense of this painful truth that raided his life.

He shook his head abruptly, plowed his fingers through his curls and continued, just bursting at the seams. Clearly, he'd been holding this in for a very long time.

"What was so fucked up was, I could never tell if I was getting Good Dave or Bad Dave when he was drunk."

I assumed then that Dave was Henry's father's name.

"When he was Good Dave, he was the best Dave in the world.”

I shook my head at the horror of it all.

"Things didn't make sense and come to find out, the fucker never had cancer to begin with. He lied, just to get money from me. And guess what the money was for, Valerie…"

"Oh my god, Henry…"

"Tell me, Valerie…if my own old man can do this to me…"

I was seized by shock and pain and couldn’t speak.

"Not even my worst enemy has hurt me like this…I know I complained about the man. In the end…I loved my father. I still respected him, which is why I caved in and gave him one last chance. For fuck sake, I thought the old man was going to die."

I stood there helplessly, guilty that I couldn’t figure out what to say to him.

"I still don't believe that it's true but I talked to him. He tried to deny it but he eventually admitted it and claimed that it was all my fault. Again"

I winced, feeling whiplash from Henry's words.

"What?" I spoke softly, disbelief and pain making me weak. Henry sighed heavily while rubbing his head.

"He said it was my fault that he started drinking again after being sober for a while. He claimed he was sober until I ran away from home and that his problem got worse after that. He sobered up after I became successful, weaseled his way back into my life and partied harder than I did. Rachel, the first woman I fell in love with, she helped me through that."

"Was that…" I gulped hard. "Was that the woman with a husband and kids?"

Henry stalled, but eventually nodded.

"The situation reminded me again that I can't get too comfortable because nothing was ever truly something I could call my own. Everything seemed to always belong to someone else, except m music. Peter lived in the same neighborhood as Dad. We met when I'd go there to visit Dave and we became friends. When I started visiting him at his home, I felt so welcome. I felt like I'd found a home. But a particular incident led me to see them happy as a family and I was reminded they weren't mine. I had nothing of my own but music. Living on the streets made me very territorial and made me try to claim anything that made me feel good. Music was mine, but when I met Rachel I felt I finally found a home and the reality would always hit me that I had not.

"She helped me through Dave’s alcohol abuse, but even that had to end because she wasn't mine."

Henry sighed and looked off into the street.

"Dave's excuse for lying to me about cancer was that it was my fault he began again. That I neglected him. Said he drank because he missed his boy."

My now my vision was blurring with tears. "Oh no, Henry. It wasn't your fault…"

"He said the only way he could get back into my life was by lying. Said he was driven to drink because he couldn't stand that he was lying to me. What a bastard, eh?"

"I'm so sorry. That's horrible,” I took a tentative step towards him and was surprised when he stepped back.

Then I thought back to my birthday night when he brought me peach colored balloons, how jumpy he was in the bedroom whenever I got close to him, to the last time we met after the MMA fight, how he was basically trying to chase me out of his room.

As if realizing what he had just done, Henry shook his head as he looked down at his feet.

"…You know, I thought I was fine until I met you."

I stood silently and listened.

"I thought everything was okay. I was successful and could move freely as I pleased, without having to ever answer to anyone. I have never had to answer to anyone but my mother and my siblings, and even then…

"I never had to worry about putting food on the table or getting my mother something nice. My siblings are all well taken care of and are all set for life. I've fallen in love with women before but the focus has always been on them and I never had to explain much of myself or why I did what I did. People are fine as long as they are pampered and given what they want. That way, if you lavish them while smiling hard enough, they never ask too much of you. They don't ask about you…they don't ask because the focus is on them and to be fair, they think you're fine because if you’re in Hollywood long enough, you learn how to smile even when you don’t feel it. You even learn to smile with your eyes, which I always believed were like a truth serum until I moved here. And anyway, after being treated like a mistake, you don't want to step on too many toes.”

His last comment confused me a little, but Henry went on.

"But you, you don’t look like you are gunning for too much. Maybe it’s because you have been hurt, but there is a very sweet, nurturing look in your eyes. Like you’re saying without really saying that you can understand whatever it is someone else is going through. I could stare at them forever, I’ve never seen eyes like yours.”

My face burned as I blushed and my body felt weightless. The effortlessness with which this guy could get me feeling high was astounding.

"You are honestly the most beautiful thing that's ever happened to me besides my mother and my siblings."

My heart started racing and I looked elsewhere, not knowing what to say or do.

"You’re a very safe person to be around. And that scared me. I'm not used to that feeling."

I refused to look him in the eye.

"I wanted to tell you what happened, so many times, but I couldn't risk the news getting out and affecting Ben. I couldn't risk you thinking I was this strange, weird guy that just needed to be left alone. I have gotten that look far too many times. I'm not a victim, I know, but there are too many people in this industry that are all out looking for themselves."

“I’m not like that,” I explained, somewhat irritably.

“I know, he said quietly.”

We stood quietly for a few minutes.

"I came here on the chance that you would be here, but I was also hoping you wouldn't. I don't know how to act when I'm around you. I just start to unravel. I just start to break down. There's this spirit about you, and it drives me mental. Around you I become so…unguarded. And it's a very dangerous thing to let your guard down.”

I felt the same way but didn’t say it. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable because the more he spoke, the more I began to lose my resolve. I couldn’t end up by his side tonight only to watch him leave the next day and not know whether I would hear from him again or not.

"I'm going to be completely honest with you…" Henry started somewhat hesitantly. "When I first met you, I just treated you as I do everyone else. I asked Peter if you were always so rude and he told me to not even bother, but I hounded him asking him why and he asked me why I kept bugging him about you."

He sighed lowering his shameful face, "I was bored, Valerie, and I just needed…something, I don't know, anything. I was attracted to you but, I was bored, and you were there. But from the first moment you spoke to me, I couldn't turn away."

He was looking at me now and I didn’t k now how to take all of it.

"Part of it was you being a challenge. I told Peter I could break anyone down if I wanted to. It was an ego thing, but the more we talked, the more I found myself being so intrigued. I just felt like I was stepping into a whole other universe. By the end of the night, I was gone. I had to get closer to you. I had to have you. You didn't make it easy which is what made me try harder."

"So was it just about proving to yourself that you could get me?" I asked, hating the fact that I felt some kind of way about it.

He was silent for a moment.

"I guess that was part of it initially, yeah."

I don't think anything could shock me at this point.

"I just had a feeling about you that both drew me to you but kept me away."

I hated how pointedly he looked at me as he said those words because he probably knew I felt the same.

"My relationships have always worked because the women I have dated have always wanted to be catered to. It has always been about wining and dining them, so much to the point where I didn't matter. But, I made sure I didn't matter. It made hiding who I was easier. You let a person talk about themselves and listen to them long enough, and you can have them wrapped around your finger.

"The women I have dated are not bad people. But in Hollywood, it's very easy to meet someone self-centered, that's why it was a bit easy for me to live here. Let people talk about themselves long enough and you can exist among them without really existing…"

I’d heard about Hollywood. We all had. About how cutthroat it was, but I guess every industry was the same. I still empathized with him, cause I’d never know exactly how it was.

“To be honest I have never tried to stay away from someone as much as I've tried to stay away from you. Because no one has ever made me feel as…understood as you have. Many people have understood me but there are certain things where they don't understand the full extent.”

He lowered his eyes.

"My father…when I talked about music….he understood me like no one else." His voice became hard as though trying to guard himself. "And he betrayed me. So I associate that feeling of being understood, of comfort with…betrayal and uncertainty."

I frowned at him.

"I either leave before it gets too deep or I shut down emotionally. My ex cheated on me because I shut down emotionally and she had to seek emotions elsewhere. I become obsessed with making music or traveling when I shut down. That's how I used to drown out Bad Dave. See, there used to be this small hole on the fence of our backyard If the screaming got too bad, I'd take Lori with me and we'd go to a nearby playground. When Mom found out, I'd just lock us in our room and turn the music on really loud. My way of surviving is to escape emotionally and mentally but when I met you, you were so all-consuming I literally have to put myself in a position where I'm not near you.

"Henry…"

"When my father told me that I either leave that house or I follow his rules and lead a simple life, I remember how I used to run off when he'd get drunk and I just…ran. I took Ben with me,” he added with a sense of urgency.

"But I took him back. I took him back and told him I'd come back to get him. The night I brought him back, Dave, he told me to leave Ben out of this. It was better for him.”

We sat stood for a while.

"I would never forgive myself if something happened to him. And it wasn't too long until he went back home, you know?” He looked at me hopefully before dragging his eyes away.

"I failed him. I picked music over my own brother. The way Dave picked his addiction over us…"

"Henry, you were a kid. You did what you thought was best for Ben at the time."

He remained mute.

"Would you have preferred if he were on the street?"

He closed his eyes painfully, a knot forming between his eyebrows as he shook his head.

"I would have hated myself more. I was sixteen and he was six. He wouldn't have survived. The first night I had him, I had to steal food. After running out of the house with Ben, I forgot my wallet with the money Mom gave me. It was too much chaos. So I just took him back home the next day, it was so rough that even I tried to go back home but I came home when Dave was really angry and told me never to return."

"Why didn't you just go back home to Mom?"

"I found out Dad told her I was staying with some relative who lived in California at the time, cause apparently it was my choice. He also made her realize how serious I was about music and began to get concerned, so she started asking me to stop for my own sake. I was still obsessed with finding my way, especially after finding out that getting connections in California seemed much more fruitful than trying back home.

“And part of the reason we were staying with Dave is because Mom had fallen on hard times. Her mother was really sick and granddad had just passed, and he used to help out. She was having a hard time with all of us and at that time I was just thinking that I didn’t want to cause her any trouble. So I lied and said I was okay. Said I was staying with Peter, not Dad’s relative, which was partially true but they were so perfect, and his mom tried to get me into other activities because as she said, I sounded like I had no direction. It seemed everyone was trying to control my destiny so I went back to the streets

"When you live on the streets, you learn different survival tactics. But you also learn just how low the human race is. You ask yourself how far you will go for survival. You see people do all kinds of things just to survive. It's the craziest things. But what you learn to do most…you learn to keep moving. That's the name of the game. Keep going because you don't get too comfortable in one spot when you're living on the streets. You just keep moving.

"And ever since….

A tear slid down my eye and I glanced down.

"When he talked about you being beat up? That you almost died?"

Henry sighed. "Just run into some thugs who weren’t happy and they took it out on me.” Suddenly Henry rolled up his short sleeve over his muscular shoulder. “This tattoo of a clock was my first one.”

I didn’t know where he was taking this but tentatively stepped off of Peter’s patio to get a closer look.

“I was trying to cover up some of the scars. When I saw how well he did it, I went back and he added more tattoos where my scars were. Ever since then I just became addicted to tattoos. They made me feel like I was covering that part of my life up."

Surprise was an understatement. I could now understand the ire in Henry when Chase made fun of his tattoos. Even those were his way of trying to shield himself from his own past.

Henry surprised me when he sat on the edge of the sidewalk. Probably worn down by his own past and truths. With his knees elevated, Henry rested his elbows on them and just looked ahead of him at the impending darkness that fought the street lights.

While I was glad he was staying in one spot, that was another moment I began second guessing my coming out here and speaking to him. Experience with Henry had made me ambivalent. This was probably the last time I would see him for a long time, but my curiosity was winning this waging war within me.

I went and sat beside him but with great caution. I didn't expect to bond, and to a certain extent, I didn't want to, but I couldn't help the sympathy I felt towards him.

Being with him felt so familiar but, each time I had to remind myself that Henry and I still had a lot of 'getting to know' each other to do. How do I know he just wasn't a manipulative guy, who knew how to play this game well and knew that the sympathy card would benefit him and make me forgive him?

But it was that damn link: father and child, that kept me seated beside him, albeit two feet away from him. It was me who decided, unwisely probably, to take that risk and hear more of his side of the story. While Chase was the one I should have raced after to apologize, Chase had great parents that had dotted over him, hence part of the reason why he had turned out so successful despite all the bullying he'd sustained through high school. I knew Henry's treatment of him summoned bad memories of being bullied in high school by the 'big dogs'.

But I knew Henry had far too many wounds from his past and he didn't seem like the type who vented much. His behavior today was obviously a culmination of withheld emotions. That still shouldn't have been an excuse. Was I making excuses for him?

We sat quietly, both lost in our own thoughts, for what seemed like hours. Cars drove by. A plane flew above. The neighbors' visitors across the street left.

"I feel confused. That doesn't give him a right to come ba…" Henry began and stopped abruptly.

"What?"

"I'm doing the same fucking thing," he murmured.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think its right to use this to get closer to you again. I'm not trying to use this in any way, please believe me. I know a manipulator when I see one and I wouldn't do that to you."

I was surprised because that was my recent train of thought. "Henry you weren't even going to tell me about this."

"I didn't even plan on telling Peter." He speared his fingers through his hair and held his head. "This is why I don't fucking drink--"

"Why do you feel guilty about being who you are and being honest? Why? In everything you do. When you talk about your success you're so self-deprecating and apologetic. You shy away every time you open up to someone like you don't have a right to. You act like it's a mistake."

I seemed to have hit a nerve.

"I don't want to burden anyone," he said quietly and a ball in my knot formed. His voice sounded so hollow and defeated.

"Did your father make you feel like this?" I asked quietly, hating how tearful my voice sounded. Henry's jaw bunched and he looked away. Without much thought, I reached for him and put my hand over the back of his head, rubbing lightly despite him tensing up

"Please talk to me. It's okay."

"You're killing me, Val. I don't deserve to. You know that."

"You are right, you don't, but owe me that much for how you've treated me," my voice cracked as my eyes watered, memories of confusion and rejection plaguing my mind. The memories struck me so strongly I nearly told him to just leave, but his heavily hooded eyes fell on me.

"I used to grapple for dad's time so much when I was little. I never knew how he'd react. Sometimes he was welcoming but most times he'd act like I was bothering him. I don't like bothering others with my issues."

"Henry…"

"And when you're homeless you're always…you are so desperate you are begging...it's such a low point…

"You're always begging and always just…hoping. Sleeping in bathrooms at subways and…in a foreign country as well. It was horrible. You could never get too comfortable because you never knew what was around the corner. Even after Peter's family took me in, I couldn't shake that feeling of discomfort. I felt like I was in the way. I always had to be on the move. I'm used to it now. It's the only way I survive."

"That's not survival Henry. That's fear."

"I don't want to hurt you any more than I already have. I really don't. I know it happened long ago. I know all this, I had buried it but when I found out he lied and how easily I gave in…I realized I got too comfortable."

"Have you talked to anyone about this yet? About him lying?"

"No. But it's over. It's over. I'm over it."

"You are not over it. At least be honest with yourself."

After some silence, I spoke, "Is it hard for you being here?"

"Surprisingly…no. I feel….calm when I'm with you. Not just with you but…just that maybe I can be okay. I don't know."

"So why do you always leave?"

"Because I feel calm. Like I could just stay in the same spot forever and be…okay. I'm not used to that. The only person who's truly ever made me feel that way is my mother and now..."

He sighed and summed it up. "I feel so comfortable around you it unnerves me." He continued after some silence."I don't want to put that pressure on you."

"It's not pressure. You're growing and realizing that you can be okay with yourself."

A smile ghosted his lips."You always know how to make it sound good, but…"

He hesitated before going on.  

"For as much as I can't stand the guy, I'm so much like him. Ben and I are, especially Ben. but, because I'm so obsessed with music, I didn't want to think how I'd turn out if it didn't work the way I wanted it to. Seeing how he turned to alcohol to help him cope with not acquiring the fame and success he wanted, and seeing what alcohol turned him into…

"I tried to get away from being like him but sometimes it got so hard.”

I could feel him withdrawing again.

"You remember that night I told you about, when it was storming and the old man told me to go sit with him and write songs?”

I nodded.

“He was pissed. Drunk. But he was so caring and loving, still I’ll never forget the strong stench of alcohol.”

It saddened me to hear this all.

“The first song I wrote…that got me my big break? The one that got me off the streets and the one that I was able to get Mom a new house with? I was drunk when I wrote that song, Valerie."

"Oh. Henry…." I shook my head and placed my forehead against his shoulder. 

"I know it sounds stupid and I know I'm being melodramatic but just. How can I even be proud of something that wasn't…authentic. To date, that is my biggest song…I have been successful since but haven't matched it. I wonder why."

[i]From the beginning[/i],is self-deprecating attitude whenever we discussed his success now made sense.

"That doesn't mean that it wasn't you."

"But it was the drunk me. As he son of an alcoholic, it's not something I'm proud of."

I could see why6 that bothered him so much. He sighed heavily and looked down at his hands.

"There was a time when I thought I'd finally made a break through with my dad. I was proud that he was clean for two years and I confided in him and told him I was afraid that I would become like him because my biggest song was written when I was drunk."  Henry let out a dry laugh. "He assured me my talent was natural. That I shouldn't doubt myself. I felt so proud, like I'd finally received my dad's blessing, then I think he began to get jealous of my success and his drinking began again. I had to cut him off cause he was draining me.

"When I found out he'd been lying the entire time about this whole cancer thing, we got into a little spat. I nearly killed him. I was so angry Val. I'd never been so mad in my life. I literally just blacked out.  Because when we were arguing, he said, 'What makes you think you are so special when you can't even write a good song when you are sober. Me and you, we are not different. We are our greatest when we are under the influence. Everyone thinks you are this hero but they don't know the truth: The worst gifts come in the prettiest packages' I'll never forget it. He says that I just got lucky…that if he had my luck I wouldn't even fucking exist right now because he would have gone on to achieve his dream. That the mere site of my face reminds him where he failed in life. My dear father"

"It's not true…" I told Henry urgently and he simply closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I don't want to be like him, but I can't get away from being him."

"You are not him." I was holding on to his arm so desperately, the other hand clamped tight over his shoulder. His muscles all over were so strained, straining more when I touched him. I felt this huge sense of responsibility, like I had to do all I could to save him.

"You are your own human being, Henry."

He was quietly thoughtful as he stared at his hands. My natural instinct was to inch closer and kiss his cheek, just to try and reassure him and try to relax all the muscles within him but somehow I restrained myself the way he seemed to be restraining himself. 

"Some studies show that it is genetic," he muttered with a very fearful look on his face.

"What is?" I hesitantly asked.

"Alcoholism"

"When is the last time you had a drink?" I asked quietly.

"About a year ago. I can't enjoy it like others because I start to panic that I will become dependent on it."

I remember the night we met, he never touched the drink I got for him, neither did he drink. He got everyone else drinks but got water for himself.

"And you had your first one tonight since?"

"I had more than one…" he murmured, his voice low and a bit hard, like he wanted to strangle himself.

"Once in a while is not a bad thing."

"All it takes is just one, and then it just snowballs.”

Henry held his head in his hands.

"Is that how it used to be?" I asked as I rubbed his back.

"She would lock us in the room when he got belligerent. She'd have to do all sorts of things. Hiding the car keys. And he would just leave and…go for…walks…"

I put my hand over my mouth before reaching out to him and making him look at me.

"Henry--"

He closed his troubled eyes. "Fuck…"

His breathing began to speed and more tears spilled from my eyes.

"Look at me," I pleaded, trying to pull his hand down, but Henry didn't yield.

"Look at me," I implored, my voice grating with tears as I shook him.

"I am him--"

"Look at me!" I demanded, almost yelling, and his eyes flashed at me and I bit my lip to keep me from whimpering. Crouching before him, I held his face and forced him to face me.

"You are not your father. Do you understand?"

He was looking at me, but his eyes were clouded. Guarded. His demons had superseded everything else about him. My chest ached. 

I clawed my fingers into his hair.

"You are not your father. You are Henry Walker. Do you remember what you told me? About thinking parents should let their kids have their own identity? Yes, you ran away. Yes, it probably hurt Ben and your father. But don't you realize that by walking away, you made your own destiny? What would have happened if you stayed? If you forced yourself to be some, some chemical engineer or accountant even when you fucking hated it?

"Look at me. I'm living proof what happens when you just listen to everyone else. I'm a prisoner in my own jail because I was too afraid. Notice how brave you were. Don't look away from me, Henry. You walked straight into a hurricane not knowing if you'd ever see the sun again. When you told me you are an all or nothing kind of guy I didn't really get it but now I do. You don't settle until you have it all and look at all you got because of that attitude. Do you see what happened to your father? I'm not saying that's what would have happened to you and I'm not saying that you wouldn't have found joy. But what I am saying is that you need to stop beating yourself up over your choice. I saw you when you were just simply DJing at Margaret's party. I see how your eyes light up when a song comes on. That's not a mistake. You can't tell me that anything else compares to that feeling. You can't. I'm fucking proof of what happens when you don't follow your dreams. I'm fucking miserable. Everytime I see a new game or some innovation in the gaming world do you know how jealous and angry I get? And then I just start to eat and I start to feel sorry for myself and I look the other way and I try to look for different meanings of my life but in the end I fucking regret it.

"Life isn't perfect. No life can ever be all the way perfect. If you have one thing in life, you miss out on another. It's about just…coming to terms. I'm not defending your dad. I never will, but I'm sure he would do anything to have the success you had and at such a young age. No one can take that away from you Henry. Not me, not Dave, not the world, that's yours.

"I don't know what it's like to be homeless and to be that alone. But please believe me, I know what it's like for people to get fed up with you because you're dealing with something they don't understand. So all of this probably sounds like gibberish.

"But the only reason why I'm telling you this so desperately is because I just wish you could see yourself how I see you when you make me so happy. You are such a beautiful person who brings light to so many and it's such a shame that you can't see that, but one day you will. I just wish you would realize that you're really not that bad. You're not perfect but that's fucking fine. As long as you are trying to get better and stop hurting yourself. You're proof that even though you get hurt, you will be okay if you keep on trying.

"Valerie…"

"There's nothing wrong with you, okay? Even with all this shit, don't let anyone make you think that you're a mistake. Don't ever let anyone make you think that."

Our foreheads were now aligned, and I could feel that he was no longer restrained.

"I never meant to hurt you or give you the run around. Everything began to unravel when we met. I had to pick and choose…"

"You could have chosen to trust me."

“To be fair, we were still getting to know each other.”

What he was saying made sense but I stubbornly said nothing.

"And let’s be honest, you didn't even trust me either,” he went on as he too stood up.

"What does that mean?!"

"Come on, Val? You start to speak and then you just…"

"Oh Henry, what about you? You love me up and tell me all the right things and then you just leave! At least I never left! You just run away each time--"

"Because you make me want to stay!"

He shut me up.

"For all the reasons. Good or bad, I don't know. You make me want to stay. Fuck, my mom asks me about you every time we speak I talk about you all the time."

"But what do you do…"

"I got scared Valerie. I got fucking scared…"

"Of what?! Little old fucking me? You’re scared of someone you call Peaches?"

"You’re damn right I was. Because of how fucking hard and fast I've fallen for you I can't fucking see straight anymore! How much clearer can I make that?”

Again, that inexplicable feeling went through me when he professed his feelings to me but I refused to be weakened by them. I had enough experience to know not to just fall back into this cycle.

"I knew that night after the MMA fight shouldn’t have happened. You talked of friends with bonus points but I knew, I could just tell that you’re not that kind of girl. And that night of the MMA fight, I found out that Dave was lying. I was in denial and I just up and left from where I was in Paris. I was so mad but I was trying to pretend it didn’t happen.

“When I saw you, I just…I didn’t know what to do but I had to be near you. I was an asshole how I did that, it wasn’t respectful how I just pursued you like nothing was wrong and I’m sorry, but the moment we got to my home together, I just…I knew I would break your heart. I knew after what I had just found out I couldn’t invest in a relationship with anyone. So when you said you wanted nothing more that night, I knew it was bullshit but I took it and run because of this thing that makes it really hard to turn away from you when we’re next to each other.

“I just fucking met you. I just fucking met you, and all of a sudden I want to change. All of a sudden I want to do anything for you. Anything, Valerie. I wanted to move closer to you. You were the first person I wanted to call, when I found what he did."

Again, another turn on my feelings occurred. It was up and down with him.

“I jumped on a plane, and came all the way to your doorstep, after two days of not speaking to you, to explain to you why…why you are better off without…."

“W-Wait, what?”

Henry sighed, his eyes downcast as he pocketed his hands.

"You're so precious to me, in too short of a time but even then, why the fuck would I mess your life up?"

"You came?" I finally croaked and Henry broke eye contact as he looked away, rubbing his nape. His cheeks began to turn a bright pink.

"I jumped on a plane and I came. And I knocked once but I think you were asleep and when you didn't come I…"

"Why didn't you tell me all this--"

"When my dad and I got into an argument we fought and my phone broke somewhere. I was staying at a hotel that time and got the front desk clerk to book a flight and just came. I wasn't making sense at the time I was so pissed. I hit the fucker, I'd just punched him in the face. Like I said, I blacked out."

I couldn’t imagine Henry hitting anyone; then again, you couldn’t put anything passed anyone.

"But when I arrived I was, I don't know. I thought, why I would put all this on you when I know that you have your own problems."

"Henry, I would have opened my doors for you, you know that. I would have listened to you and I would have tried to understand."

Henry looked up at me and it was as though the error of his ways was finally settling in. He took a step to me.

"I’m sorry. Give me another chance."

"No…stop…" I stepped back.

"Please, Valerie. I'll do anything. Anything you want."

"Only now cause you are realizing that you ruined a good thing?"

His lips formed a straight line and a crease formed between his eyebrows. His shoulders sagged and he leaned against the street light.

"Is there anything I can do…" he asked somberly; defeated.

"It's too late."

From the way his features fell, I nearly raced back to him and told him that I would take him  back, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

"Valerie…don't…please…" he took another step and I stepped further back. A knowing look began to creep in his eyes as he smirked.

"Is it because I'm not perfect. Maybe you finally realize that what you thought is a dream is actually a fucking nightmare."

And this was obviously another reason he tried not to get close to people. He didn’t want them to see the truth that lay underneath.

Looking at Henry, I thought…I had to change.

I saw so much of myself in him that I never wanted to make anyone go through what he made me go through out of fear and baggage. I looked away as tears filled my eyes while I thought how such an amazing person could be so stuck on some unresolved hurt and how that could bind them as a person.

But who was perfect? Who had it all figured out all the time?

I knew he looked sad, pitiful even…but I'd had enough mental breakdowns to know that he was going through one now. He probably didn't even realize that he was having a mental break down until he realized what he had done.

I wanted to be there for him. I wanted to show him that he could get over this, that at some point we all became fuck ups, immature, and hurt but we could all still get up and dust ourselves off.

I just had to tell myself those things first. I had to take care of me first. It was so hard repeating that mantra in my brain.

"You are special to me and will always be but I can't do this with you. I'm sorry." I hardened my voice as I spoke, but deep down inside I just wanted to welcome him in my arms to tell me he could find a home in me. I felt like such a hypocrite though. After trying to console him I was now shunning him the way others had. It was so hard.

But I’d be lying if I also wasn’t selfishly tying my troubling past to this situation. I refused to be used again.

I refused. I remember George’s sob story and how I fell for it. I remember how much that was what kept me going back to him, his tragic past.

The major difference though between Henry and George was how Henry made me feel. It was far stronger than what George made me feel but it was also more daunting because I was more skeptical.

"Valerie, please. I'll do anything. I can. I will change."

I looked away from him cause I couldn’t handle it.

"Don't change because you are losing me Henry. Change because you've lost yourself to this side, this dark side."

"Change for you. Not me. Not your mom. Not even your dad. For you. I know you. Just open up, accept your problems, know that you're not the only one and move on. It's not easy but I know you can do it."

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"I'll only do it on one condition. Actually two." 

I flinched when Henry touched the side of my face and I realized then I hadn’t felt his touch since I spilled alcohol on him. When I tried to step away, Henry held my arms to still me.

"Only if you promise to start seeing how beautiful you actually are. For you. Not me or anyone else."

I dropped my eyes from his as they started to warm in that charming, friendly manner that had gotten me in this position. I also couldn’t look at them now thinking of a young boy getting spit on by his father telling him not to return, or watching a family through the window not belonging. I thought of him feeding the homeless man and dropped my face into my hands as I cried quietly.

"So this is it?" I heard Henry say above me.

"Imagine how many times I thought that when you didn't answer my calls or texts.” I tearfully wiped my eyes and heard him curse under his breath as he kissed the crown of my forehead.

"Val…I'm sorry."

Henry tilted my head back, the sense of urgency in his eyes potent.

"It makes no sense to me and it probably scares the shit out of you but before I walk out of your life I want you to know but you just know I have never felt for anyone the way I feel for you. I just want you to remember that. Don't forget how I've hurt you, I'm not asking you to, but please just know when I say that I'm in love with you, I mean it."

I was sobbing, trying to look away but he made me look at him with chaste kisses all over my tearful face/

"And lastly please, please promise me that you will do what makes you happy. Please."

The fact that it had finally settled to Henry proved that this was truly probably the last time I would ever see him again.

My heart began to race like it did the day someone close to me left. My legs turned weak. The reality of it began to sink into the marrow of my bone and before I knew it I was clinging onto the sides of his shirt, probably scraping at his skin as I held on.

I was acting on instinct not on what the right, smart thing to do was at the moment.

Unmindfully, I shook my head as I held onto him, my tears spilling down my temple onto his fingers.

His eyes softened and the friendly light I'd seen in them when I first saw them glimmered slightly before he closed his eyes and rubbed his nose against mine.

"Promise me.”

He begged, but I shook my head stubbornly and he kissed the corner of my mouth.

"I need you to promise me. There is just too much fire burning in you for you not to. Please. Do what makes you happy. It doesn't matter if you end up homeless or trying to make ends meet, if there is one last thing I will ask you, it's those two things."

I sobbed into Henry's chest, for no one had ever told me those words so candidly and so passionately before.

Unfortunately, I exploded and began to rumble what my true feelings wanted to say.

"Come with me…Let's run away together. Let's just go somewhere. Anywhere. We can make it work. I understand you and you understand me. We can do it."

I recall that the scariest thing I felt that night was my immediate willingness to run away with him. To see the world with him. To just let go with him.

As a teenage girl who often daydreamed about being carried away by the man she thought to be the love of her life, I nearly jumped at the chance.

I was so dangerously close.

To this day, I still wonder what would have happened. What would have occurred if I let myself get swept away by the tide of these feelings he gave me? I don't know. I'll never know.

Cause I clawed my fingers into his shirt and I clutched my eyes shut as I pressed my forehead against his lips.

"It's alright love,” Henry said conclusively but now I was fighting not to end it.

"It's not alright. It's not. We can fix it,” I begged frantically and he tried to wipe the tears from my face.

"Not right now. You were right. I don't want to ruin you. We both need some time."

"Please. Don't,” I cried pitifully wiping my eyes. I remembered begging the other person who had walked out of my life not to leave as well.

Henry sighed and pressed his lips against my hairline, breathing into my hair. "Peaches, don't do this…"

My shoulders stopped shaking as my crying slowed. Holding my face, Henry looked down at me, his eyes warm, unbidden, and simply just loving.

"I love you, okay? Don’t try to make sense of it. Just know that I do." When my eyes welled with tears again, he added with that soft, dimpled smile that had gotten me from the moment I met him,

"One day when I stop running, we'll run away together. Live on a farm up in Cheshire and have a bunch of little ones. Grow a bunch of apple and peach trees. It will be amazin', yeah?"

I shook my head stubbornly and Henry pinched my nose playfully.

“Not the end. Next time I meet you, you will be designing games, won’t you?"

He didn’t wait for me to respond, and tried to leave. I was seconds away from pouncing on him, stopping him and promising that I would nurture him and fix all his problems.

But even in that moment of hysteria, something strong within me kept my feet grounded.

I watched him walking away, not knowing if this was the last time that I would speak to him.

It was a very heartbreaking day, the day that I chose to save myself first before anyone else. The day he refused me to try and save him as well.

I didn't see it then. I couldn't see much really, with my tears blurring it all.

But just like a hurricane clearing up, when my tears eventually dried up down the line, the sun came back up.

And this was the best decision we both made for us.