What's Left of Me

by Kristen Granata

Paul runs his fingers through his disheveled hair, pulling at the ends of it. “I’m sorry, Josie. I’m sorry about everything.” “Yeah, well, so am I. I’m sorry Callie ever fucking met you.”

How am I finding solace in the same arms that broke me down? Why do I miss the person I fled from? I feel sick. I don’t know what to do. It’s like someone threw my head and my heart into a blender, and everything got all jumbled.

“You need to think about whether or not you want to be with me?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “How can you say you love me but not know if you want to be with me?” I rise from the couch and look down at him. “The same way you can tell me you love me and hit me.”

I half-expected her to return to Paul, to crawl back into the comfort of her familiar patterns, but she hasn’t. Josie filled me in on what happened when Callie packed some of her belongings from her home. All the things she said to Paul, how she didn’t give in and let him weasel his way back into her life with empty promises and flat-out lies.

After we say goodbye to Callie and pay the bill, Gertie stops me before I reach the door. “That was her, wasn’t it? The woman you told me about?” I nod. “She left her husband. Moved in with my sister for a while. It’s been tough on her. I really appreciate you giving her a job.” Gertie pats my shoulder. “Don’t you worry about it. I’ll take good care of her.” “I know you will, Gertie.” “She’s beautiful, too.” I hike a nonchalant shoulder. “Sure.” “I see the way you look at her.” She clicks her tongue. “And though it might be a little too soon for her, she looks at you the same way. She just doesn’t know it yet. So, you be patient. Don’t rush it. Give her space.”

“Paul, what are you doing here?” He walks toward me, slowly, with his hands out in front of him like he’s approaching a scared animal. “I’m not here to cause trouble.” Then his eyes land on Cole, and his entire demeanor changes. “What’s he doing here?” he growls. Cole steps forward. “I should be asking you the same question.” I stand between the two of them, looking up at Cole. “Please, don’t cause any problems for me on my first day.”

“I can’t believe I just spoke to him that way. I don’t know where that came from.” Gertie pulls me into an embrace, squeezing me until I can’t breathe. “I’m so proud of you, sugar.” I shake my head and touch my palm to my cheek. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Gertie.”

“Hey, did I catch you at a bad time?” he asks. His hair is combed, and his white collared shirt is crisp. The bruising on his face has completely faded. He looks better. Lighter. He looks like my handsome husband. Can it really be? I step back and let him in. “No, I just took a bath. I’m heating up some food. Are you hungry?”

“Shh. It’s okay, baby,” he whispers in my ear. “It’s going to be okay.” “Please don’t do this, Paul. Please! I’ll never be with you if you do this.” But he doesn’t hear my plea. I don’t think anything I say could reach him now.

Callie lying in the middle of Josie’s living room in the fetal position, covered in broken glass, is one of them.

“I need you to tell me if you’re hurt.” I glance down to her arms and legs. “Did he ... did he hurt you?” She shakes her head. “He tried ... he tried to force himself on me.”

Mia. She’s looking down on you right now. Don’t do this. She’s watching.” Like I’ve been shocked with an electric current, I release Paul’s throat and stagger backward. Mia. My Mia.

Paul grunts as he pushes to his feet. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I just want her back.” Josie shoves past me and swings her hand, slapping her palm across his cheek. “You will never get her back. Ever. Now go!”

I glare at Paul’s back as he makes his way to his house. “I think he tried to rape her.” Without another word, Josie spins around and bolts into the house in search of her friend. Dan sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “I’ll call my buddy, John. He’s a cop. Callie can make a statement and get a restraining order against Paul. That should help her with the divorce.” “Won’t put him where he belongs.” “No, but at least it’s something.” I shake my head. “Should’ve let me handle it.” “Do you really think you’re capable of something like that?”

Billy takes over the conversation, and Gertie uses the distraction to lean in and whisper to me. “I’m glad you’re here. This is the first time I’ve seen her smile all day.” I nod, speaking around the wad of food in my mouth. “She had a rough night.” “What happened?” “Her ex came by the house and attacked her. He tried to force himself on her.”

When I meet Billy outside—who no doubt just saw everything—he shakes his head and huffs out a laugh. “What?” I ask, not really wanting to know what he’s about to say. “Dude, you are so screwed.”

“Callie,” he whispers. His palms are calloused, but his touch is gentle, barely brushing my skin. I want more. “You hold me like I’m this fragile thing. You don’t have to be scared to touch me. I won’t break.” His eyebrows press together. “But you are fragile, Callie.” My lips tug downward. “You think I’m weak because I let someone hit me.” “No.” His fingers push into my hair, and he cradles the back of my head, gripping me tighter. “You’re not fragile because you’re weak. You’re fragile because life is fragile.

“I think you should be Callie’s boyfriend, Uncle Cole.” I lift an eyebrow at Brandon. “Oh, yeah?” He nods. “She’s a really nice person. And she doesn’t treat us like all the other adults treat us. She’s different.” Miles holds up his index finger. “And she always smells really good.” A chuckle bursts from my chest. “She does, doesn’t she?” “I’m serious,” Brandon says. His dark eyebrows dip down. “You’re not so angry when you’re around her.”

Cole’s thumb brushes my tears away. “When I got your message to meet you at the hospital, I thought something happened to you. For that split second, my heart stopped, and all I could think about was you not being here.” He swallows, struggling to push the words out. “On this earth.” My chest aches, and I touch my palm to his cheek. “I panicked,” he continues. “And even though I knew it was Gertie, I kept imagining it was you. It felt like I was rushing here to find you in that hospital bed. It threw me for a loop. Made me realize that I’m in this a lot deeper than I thought I was.” What does that mean?

“You’re always so busy taking care of everyone else.” She touches her hand to my cheek. “Who’s going to take care of you?” “I am.” My head snaps up to the doorway where Cole is standing. Gertie smiles. “I knew you would.”

Cole’s eyes glisten with adoration as he gazes down at me. “My Courageous Callie.” He brushes his thumb over my lips, and goosebumps skate along my skin. Then he takes my hand and leads me to his bed. His sheets smell like him, clean and masculine, and I breathe him in.

It’s now that I remember how much pain this woman has endured. The swollen eyes, the broken skin, the purple marks. This flawless, magnificent body has never been fully appreciated or respected. I turn her until she’s facing me. “Show me where he hurt you.” Her eyebrows pinch together, and disbelief twists her features. “What?” “I want you to show me all the places you’ve ever been hurt, Callie. I want to erase every mark he’s ever left on you, and I’m going to replace the old memories with a new one.”

“You want more already?” he grunts, his voice hoarse from sleep. “You’re insatiable, woman.” I smile. “Just checking to make sure you’re still here.” “Told you I’m not going anywhere.”

She’s been mentally and physically drained lately, burning the candle at both ends. She bolts around, taking care of everyone like a damn superhero, and she forgets to take care of herself.

I should see it coming, should hear the engine rumbling louder from just up the block, barreling toward us. I’m not focused on it, and I don’t realize before it’s too late.

A flash of blond hair tumbles up onto the hood of the offending car and then rolls off onto the ground in a heap. My angel. My angel. Please don’t leave me. Please be okay.

Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, the doctors told us. The unexplained death of a baby in her sleep. Cause unknown, they said. Couldn’t have been prevented, they said.

You can do this, Cole. Don’t let that woman go through this without you.” I squeeze my forehead with my fingertips. “I fucking left her, Penny. I yelled at her, and then I left her.”

Penny presses her fingertips to her lips and then places them onto the top of the headstone. “Me too. But our baby girl was loved.” Yes, she was loved.

My sister and her husband are watching TV with the boys when I get to her house. Not one of them looks up at me when I walk into the living room. “Is she here?” Brandon crosses his arms, and Miles follows suit. I smirk. The little shits are taking her side. “Come on, Josie. Is she here?” “No, asshole,” she spits.

“I screwed up.” I lift my hands and then let them smack against my legs. “I freaked out, and I ran.” “Ran like a little bitch,” Josie mutters under her breath.

“She wanted to be there for you when you got back. She knew this would be difficult for you.” My angel. Always worried about everyone else. “Hey, Uncle Cole?” “Yeah, Brandon?” His lips flatten into a hard line. “Don’t break her heart.”

“What if we lose this baby, Cole? What if the same thing keeps happening to me, and my body just can’t do it?” “Then we’ll apply for adoption.” She jerks back to look up at me. “What?” I nod, caressing her beautiful face. “I want to have a family with you, even if our children don’t have our DNA. They’ll have our love, and that’s the most important thing.”

Cole snakes his arm around my waist. “We made it past the first trimester, so everyone wanted to celebrate.” I close my eyes as a grin pulls my lips. “You didn’t need to do all this.” “Of course we did.”

“You write down whatever’s on your mind. Whatever’s making you anxious, or whatever you’re scared of. Then, you fold it up and slip it into the box. It’s supposed to help get the negative thoughts out of your head, and it serves as a visual, like you’re physically putting the thought away.” He shrugs. “He said we could read it together if we wanted to. Or not.”