Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall

Show me the most deceptive one of all

My friend, I cannot tell you how much I appreciate you always being by my side. You’ve never given up on me. Never given me any reason to doubt your love and devotion.

I threw my arm around his shoulders. He put his head on mine. We sat on the edge of a cliff, Blue Ridge Mountains spread out below us. As we’d done countless times over the years of our friendship.

My safe spot.

I rested my head against his, drawing on his strength for what lay before me.

Buddy, life can be difficult to comprehend. We don’t always understand why we face the speed bumps and roadblocks along the way. Only thing we know is we need to keep moving. Keep trying.

Not give up.

But what happens when giving up frees you? Sometimes it can feel that the only answer is to give up. Forget everything and just start over.

Some would say to keep trying. Keep plugging away. Open communication is key. Blah blah blah.

Rather than striving to keep a pleasant situation alive, know when it has died. When it is unsalvageable. To recognize when you need to walk away, and then seizing that opportunity.

I raised my head, sad smile aimed at the midmorning sunlight bathing my face. The day loomed ahead of me. No idea how it would end, but hating the way it began.

My best friend has long been the bright spot in my life. With everything he’d helped me through, I wasn’t sure this was in his wheelhouse.

Someone asked if I had the strength to finish the job. People keep checking in on me, asking how I’m doing. They reach out to offer help.

I realize they are trying to help, Aaron. To be supportive and there when the rest of the world walked away, but they’re not asking the right questions at the right time. They assume I have what it takes to get through this difficult time in my life. But I doubt I have the inner strength to work through things and make it to the other side.

Not this time.

I gave him a squeeze. We sat in companionable silence, as we often did.

Inner strength. Everyone assumes it’s the only thing that gets you from where you are to where you need to be. What happens when you have tapped out of that inner strength? When you have nothing left to give to anyone, even yourself?

But, Buddy, sometimes inner strength isn’t enough. Sometimes you need to find that person, or persons, who holds that mirror up to you. The one who forces you to acknowledge what you have ignored for far too long.

Like you do for me. You show me who I truly am. And who I want to be. You always have. I’d never have made it this far without you by my side.

My best friend. Confidant. Partner in business and crime. Brother from another mother. Only one I’d trust to take care of my family.

I turned to look at him then, seeing the love and devotion in his eyes fighting to wrestle control away from guilt and regret. With nothing but love in my eyes, for I truly loved him, I told Aaron the one quiet truth I’d never ignore.

His saucer-like espresso eyes. Sleek jet-black hair. Deep olive-toned skin. He was the epitome of greasy Italian mafioso… without ever having set foot in Italy or the mafia.

I’d do anything for him, as I knew he would for me. Emotions weighing me down, I struggled to my feet, pacing as I worked out what to say next. I pulled him to his feet and into my embrace. One last hug between brothers before I let desolation and desperation control my actions.

But I never imagined you’d take care of my wife as well as you have… while I was still alive.

He stared incredulously at me, trying to free his hands from my grasp. I held tight.

If you think you’re going to defend yourself, think again. I don’t need to watch you frantically explain how you fell in love and planned to wreck both our marriages and tear our families apart.

I saw you talking about it. Two of you were in the living room. Everyone else was in the backyard. It was the barbecue for the twins’ birthday. I came in looking for her and saw movement in the hall mirror. You assumed no one could see you in there before you knew they were there.

But I did. I came looking, and I saw you. Remember how we taught ourselves to read sign language through mirrors back in high school?

Your conversation wasn’t private. How careless of you to assume no one could read your words. Because I read them. Every. Last. One of them.

He stilled, eyes wide. Panic took hold of him as the implications of what I’d said set in.

That’s right. I learned of her plans for me at the same time you did. So I made plans for her. Don’t worry, Romeo, I won’t hurt her. But I won’t divorce her either.

He was desperate to pull his hands from my grasp to talk to me. Needed them free to do sign language and talk some sense into me. Sign language was his primary form of communication after a freak skateboarding accident when we were teens. He fell neck first onto a rail while doing an epic boardslide and crushed his windpipe, rendering him mute.

Most people thought he was deaf, which was their first mistake. And they underestimated him because of that, which was their second. The two of us learned sign language together, so we could talk. We were that close.

Until now.

My best friend in the world continued to struggle. And I let him. Held him until his wrists were red and raw, skin worn away in some spots.

Then, as his movements became erratic and frantic, I turned us to give myself a better advantage.

You want me to let you go, don’t you? Why? So you can run to her and tell her how horrible I am. Not going to happen, my friend. The next time you see my wife will be in hell.

I let go of his wrists mid-struggle and shoved his shoulders, pushing him away from me before he could turn on me.

Our heads swivelled at the cry behind us, eyes widening as my wife ran to his side, screaming at me. She threw her arms around him, pulling his forehead to hers. Fevered whispers reassured him all was well.

But was it?

One shove was all it took for him to lose his balance, grabbing her to him as he tipped over the edge of the cliff.

I was done with them conspiring against me.

Did she really think I was oblivious to their heated looks and clandestine conversations? I was more than aware of those moments where my wife would be out with the girls and he’d cancel our golf game or hockey night in my man cave.

Thought nothing of it until the day I met her and the girls at their usual restaurant for lunch. I wanted to treat them by springing for lunch.

Imagine my surprise when her bestie ran up to me, asking if I was okay and wondering why was I out of bed.

My wife cancelled her plans to stay home and nurse me through my high fever. Aaron cancelled our plans to stay home and take care of his wife and her high fever.

Aaron’s wife sat in stunned silence at the pink table clothed table when I told her she was at death’s door and should go home. Then we got angry. And began planning. After we spent the first of many afternoons in bed together.

Two arms wound around my waist. A cheek rested on my back. Hands hung off my belt. I watched the spot where they’d disappeared, waiting for them to re-emerge. To climb back up onto the lookout.

They never did.

Taking her hand in mine, I pressed a kiss to her forehead, and we headed home. Aaron’s wife and me. Consciences clear after metering out our personal brand of justice.

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Note: I hope you enjoyed my first published piece on the blog. This was a fun one to write. Buckle up, buttercup, I have many more to share. LW 💋