When It's Over
Synopsis: Leon shows up unannounced asking for a second chance
At best you would deem your relationship complicated, filled with secrecy and an absolute far cry from normal. The most you would ever hear from him while he was gone was the infrequent text or phone call to say he was still alive or on his way home and he’d see you in a couple of days. Whenever he did get home and was ready to see you he’d fire off a quick text with a location and a time, usually it was someplace that wasn’t overly crowded where you could spend a couple of hours together then part ways. Naturally you had your questions but the answers you received were quick, well-rehearsed and straight to the point; he never offered further explanation or detail outside of that. It frustrated you that any time you tried to open the lines of communication he’d shut it down, you could understand not wanting to talk about it however when he chose to hit the bottle and drown his sorrows in alcohol instead of opening up you realized this was never going to work.
He was a lost cause.
The last time you saw him he invited you to a bar after getting home, by the time you had shown up he was already drunk, slurring his speech. You couldn’t see yourself being with someone who could barely take care of themselves. Before you even showed up you had already deleted his number, gotten rid of the few photos you had and thrown away what little trinkets he’d gotten you in the beginning.
“Leon, we’re done.”
For months he left back to back voicemails until your inbox was full, when he could no longer leave a message he’d send a text that went unread and straight into deleted. Every once in a great while you’d be somewhere with friends or on a date with someone else and you’d spot him from across the room, his gaze piercing the depths of your soul trying to see inside. You weren’t in a position to call it stalking because it didn’t happen all the time however after those scarce encounters he’d try even harder to reach out. He even showed up at your work twice to make amends but you refused to see him; instead you had the front desk turn him away the first time (you really were in a meeting) and the second time told security to remove him from the property. You even went so far as to have them explain that if he showed up again he’d be trespassing and the police would be called.
He had left you alone after that - no more phone calls, text messages, random run-ins or anything of the like.
Things seemed to be gradually getting better for you until one night, just before you were about to turn in a faint knock rattled against your door. You debated whether or not to even answer it in the first place because of how late it was but when it came again a little louder you decided to see who it was. If you dared to guess it was likely a friend or one of your cousins implementing the emergency rule – “I don’t care how late it is, if you need something, anything I’ll always answer.” As you unlocked the door, prying it back a face began to appear on the other side.
“Leon?”
He seemed lost, confused about why he was even there to begin with. The bags under his eyes were much heavier than the last time you caught a glimpse of him and the frown lines around his mouth appeared to have gotten deeper. Faint traces of alcohol seeped in through the screen door that separated you; under the amber light of the porch his clothes were disheveled, hair an absolute mess. The more you studied him the more of him you saw. Beyond the disheveled clothing there were indications of dried blood along the collar of his shirt, obvious cuts and scrapes marred his hands, bruises in the shape of fingers wrapped around his throat. It appeared that he had not shaved in days either judging by the amount of hair that had begun to grown.
These were not the clothes you normally would’ve seen him wear either, anytime you’d meet up somewhere he’d be in jeans, a t-shirt, sometimes a jacket and tennis shoes. But this was a far cry from that; he had shown up at your door in head to toe tactical gear, guns strapped to his chest and thigh, boots that probably made his feet feel like lead. Gloves hung loosely from his pocket like he only just forced them there before knocking.
A distant rumble of thunder rolled through the air, the wind moving through the trees with such speed that it caused the house to creak and the calming scent of rain danced past. Lightning flashed across the velvet sky illuminating the distant, haunted look in his eyes. It was almost like he was waiting for the brightest streak of light to burn bright, the loudest crack of thunder to break the quiet before he dared to open his mouth.
“Tell me to go, tell me I shouldn’t be here.”
His voice seemed deeper than the last time you heard it, more worn down, tired. The way it cracked made the lump forming in your throat tighten. And you wanted so badly to tell him what he wanted to hear but the words died on your lips. You wanted to quietly close the door in his face and allow the unspoken words to say everything for you.
But you couldn’t bring yourself to do any of those things.
“What are you doing here?”
For a long time both of you stood there staring at each other; thunder continued to roll in getting louder with each passing minute, the lightning growing more intense with each brilliant flash across the sky. In the distance a familiar flash caught your attention as another strike hit a tree, the crack causing you to jump a little.
“I don’t know.”
You didn’t know how it was possible for him to be any more lost than he already was. Soon the rain began to patter against the ground, gradually increasing in intensity as the winds began to howl. They had called for the possibility of hail later in the night and while you chose to leave everything to chance you didn’t want to risk him trying to get home and a hail stone break his windshield. Though the odds of that happening were probably slim you had a conscience that wouldn’t let you live with that kind of guilt.
“Take your boots off.”
Sliding the lock on the screen door you opened it enough for him to enter and then locked it again. With his back to you, you noticed that he seemed to have developed a limp which was confirmed by the way he hobbled towards the couch after dropping his shoes off. Before he could even think about falling against the plush cushions you stopped him long enough to grab a couple of towels from the linen closet to put down. He collapsed with a groan when you were done, his head falling against the back cushion, hands resting on his thighs while his eyes fluttered shut. Whatever kind of hell he just rolled in from left him completely exhausted and knocked out for the night.
You really didn’t feel all that comfortable leaving him in your living room alone with all of the guns he had strapped to his body but you were also tired and the steady rain that fell wasn’t helping. Quietly you padded through the house, retrieving a pillow and a blanket from your bedroom and a large knife from the block that sat on your kitchen counter. As you got comfortable in a nearby chair you hid the knife under the blanket, positioning it in a way that would allow you to get one good stab in while you attempted to get away.
You were hoping though that it did not come down to that.
During your brief time together he had never spent the night before and you weren’t entirely sure how he remembered where you lived since he had only been over a handful of times for dinner and a movie. Regardless, you were not going to take any chances.
Sleeping in the living room was never ideal, more than anything all you managed to do was rest your eyes and seemingly wake up every hour because of some noise or you were burning up and uncomfortable. You weren’t sure what time it was when you finally woke up, all you remembered was the feeling of your blanket slipping towards the floor, cool air kissing your skin and the knife quite literally slicing through the quiet. But a firm grip on your wrist prevented further movement, the other hand prying your fingers open to take away your only means of defense.
“That’s one helluva way to say good morning.” The metal of the blade clanked against the table as you finally started to recognize your surroundings. “Thank you for, you know, last night.”
You regarded him carefully still unsure of why he even showed up at your door to begin with but answered with a curt nod hoping it would be enough. Your limbs cracked from being pulled so close to your body when you stood up to stretch, your elbow snapping the loudest as it echoed throughout the house. But that was just how your body was first thing in the morning; Leon’s face grimaced with each crackle of your joints and going so far as to joke that your body sounded like a haunted house. This early in the morning with no coffee you were unamused, not a single ‘ha’ genuine or sarcastic made its way from you.
“Tough crowd. Um, bathroom?”
With one final crack of your neck you motioned him to follow you, pointing to the closed door on your right; when it clicked shut you went into your bedroom, locked the door then locked yourself in the master bathroom long enough to pee and wash your hands. When you emerged the door to the bathroom was wide open and Leon could be heard grumbling under his breath, opening and closing cabinets, wondering where the coffee cups were, the red indicator light shining bright as he waited for the kettle to come to a boil.
“You never did answer me last night, why did you come here?”
He turned around at the sudden appearance of your voice looking sheepish. Truthfully he had no idea in the slightest why he showed up, he just did. His latest mission took him halfway around the world and he was stuck there for months dealing with betrayal, BOW’s and bad guys. When he didn’t have people flapping their gums in his ear or explosions going off that sent him flying backwards he found himself thinking of you. You never pushed him about his work and for that he was grateful but after you broke up with him he found that he was insanely jealous of anyone who got to spend any time with you that wasn’t him. Leon knew you’d never be able to understand the things he’d seen or what he’s had to do to survive but you wanted to at least try and instead of gradually letting you in he nearly killed himself with alcohol poisoning. He wondered if you had listened to his voicemails or read his texts. He was curious to know if you even cared that he was trying to ease up on the booze. Leon didn’t think complete sobriety was in his future but he could certainly aim for something more reasonable like one drink a couple of times a month.
“Remember when I’d come home and I’d always wait a few days after getting back to meet up?” He waited for you to answer but you were busy taking a couple of coffee cups out of the china cabinet. “I never wanted you to see me like how I was last night – covered in blood, guts, cuts, broken bones. I don’t think there are any this time but I’m pretty sure up until yesterday morning that my hip was dislocated. Don’t worry, I popped it back in, done it plenty of times already.”
The way he said it, so casual, made you snap your neck in his direction. And what’s worse is that you could tell by his body language alone that he was serious.
“I really don’t know what possessed me to come over last night; something just told me that I should. I know you’ve been trying to move on but I can’t. I’ve tried dating other women and it’s never worked out; I’m either gone too much for their liking, they hate the secrecy or they can’t stand to be around me when I get drunk and distant. I know that I’m a lot to deal with but I’ve been trying to cut back on the alcohol. I want to give us another shot; I’m not ready to accept that things are really over between us.”
You shook your head slowly concentrating on pouring the coffee into each of the cups. Somehow that wasn’t enough for you; you needed more than that from him. Granted none of the men you saw after Leon ever went anywhere and presently you were not all that interested in dating anyone at the moment but that did not make it okay for him to just show up at your door last night unannounced.
“Tell me one thing Leon and I will consider it.” You slid a mug across the counter pulling back just in time to avoid your fingers touching.
“What?”
“If, and that is a big if, I agree will you let me in or will you continue to keep me at arm’s length? I won’t waste my time on you if all you’re going to do is push me away. Look, I’m not asking that you shove dynamite into the walls you’ve built to protect yourself and let it all come down, I’m asking that if something is bothering you that you talk to me about what’s going on instead of drinking yourself to death.”
You watched as his eyes shifted around the room, looking anywhere except at you. The awkward way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other seemed to speak volumes and for you that was enough of an answer. In your mind there was no reason to try and pick up the pieces; there was no reason for him to ever show up in your life again.
When it’s over then it’s truly over.
“I won’t be able to tell you everything but I can try. Like for example I won’t be able to tell you where I’m going or where I am currently because it could jeopardize the job I was sent in to do but I can tell you after I get back.”
You were surprised by that answer but accepted it. All you ever wanted from him was a small bit of effort, the rest you could work on. A more comfortable silence settled in as you continued to think things through and while you were not fully committed to the idea of getting back together with Leon you found yourself a little more willing to try with this newly provided information.
“Let me ask you this: who the hell has hands that big? And I’m not talking about your hands, I mean the one that’s imprinted on your throat.”
“I’m into being choked. It’s a kink, what can I say?” he joked but you were clearly in no mood. “You know I work for the government, right? Well my job deals with counter-terrorism and bioweapons; to make a long story extremely short I wound up with a bioweapon’s hand wrapped around my throat the other night before getting tossed like a football into one of those giant metal shipping containers.”
Your eyes grew to the size of saucers, an audible gasp leaving your throat as you covered your mouth. You were at a loss for words; never in a million years would you imagine something like that was possible. Sure you heard the stories on the news about bio-weapons getting out but you always thought there were drones and missiles that handled it. But now you’ve learned just how naïve you really were and there were real people being called in to put boots on the ground. People that likely had families they needed to protect along with the general public.
“Yeah, that’s why dating is hard.” Leon must’ve read your mind as you were processing. “You want someone to come home to but at the same time how do you do your job without endangering someone you love? I’m used to getting the shit kicked out of me, how do I come home and explain to you where all these fresh cuts and bruises came from without you fussing over me? How do you prevent your family from being used against you? Sure, I can teach you how to shoot a gun but will that be enough? It’s not like I can keep a loaded RPG under the bed just in case. Can you imagine me having to jump up naked, you covered in only a sheet and this hulking ass, eight foot tall bioweapon dressed in a trench coat busting into the bedroom?”
“No, I guess you can’t.” a small smile graced your lips as you brought your coffee cup to your lips, taking a sip. “Is that how your hip got dislocated then? From being tossed around like a football? Also, full disclosure, there is no way to prevent me from fussing over you, it comes with the territory.”
From the corner of your eye you watched Leon stare straight ahead carefully formulating his answer as he brought his own cup to his lips. Based on your observations and his slightly less rigid posture you continued to sway your thoughts a little more towards giving it another shot. But you weren’t going to push your luck, he could quite easily shut it all back down again.
“I mean it’s certainly possible, it definitely makes the most sense.” He tipped the cup back draining it of its contents then proceeded to quickly wash the cup, setting it in the drainer when he was done. “I should get going, I’ve already ruined your towels and probably overstayed my welcome. But, um, I’m going to be on vacation for the next couple of months so maybe if you’re not busy or too tired after work we can maybe-”
“I’ll think about it.” You tell him still unsure whether or not you want to commit.
He appeared dejected with that response but nevertheless accepted it as your final answer. You walked him to the door and waited a minute while he crouched down to put his boots back on noting the pained groans that slipped past his lips as he tipped forward to tie the laces. As he stood back up he turned to look at you, you could see it in his face that he wanted to say something else but it died the instant he opened his mouth.
“If I change my mind I’ll call you. Please, do not try to rush me.”
Leon nodded, turned and left; you waited until his car disappeared out of sight before locking the house back up and retreating to your bedroom so you could finally get a bit of decent sleep. Hours later you were startled awake by the vibrations of your phone on the nightstand, another text message and you were pretty sure you knew who it was from. With one eye barely cracked you peered at the screen.
“I went and picked up some Chinese food for lunch. One of my fortune cookies said ‘Luck is on your side’ and your birth date was one of the lucky numbers on the back. When it’s over, is it really over? Not rushing, but I think it’s a sign…”
