Home of my Heart

I see the mail sitting nicely on the doorstep as I make my way closer to our front door. The gold seal reflects against the sun’s harsh descending glare and my heart hammers in my rib cage, afraid of what’s written inside of it. Gently, I place the two overflowing grocery bags on the ground as I pick up the letter that has my name written on it in a neat calligraphic font. Yet, all that matters to me is who sent it. Wayne State University is written in bold, capitalized ¬letters. A week ago, Dean called me and told me that Wayne had sent him his acceptance letter, but I know that it’s not the university he’ll be attending this fall. I know that he’ll pursue a career to be a top-notch lawyer in Harvard Law, exactly what our mother wants him to do. I’ve applied to Wayne on a whim, and all of Dean’s nagging and pestering. And with Troy’s blessing. If I could call it a blessing. I sit on the rocking chair we had placed on the porch. I fish my phone from my purse and call Dean immediately. “You do know I’m gearing up for my finals,” Dean says with a hint of sarcasm. “If I don’t graduate as class valedictorian, Mom is going to skin the one who does.” His words make me crack a smile, despite the nervousness that’s making my stomach do backflips. “Wayne sent me a letter.” I can almost hear the pencil dropping on his study table, and I imagine my little brother in his room, the blue walls filled with posters of Dragon Ball Z and the other anime shows that he’s always been obsessed with since he was young. I can almost picture him standing up from his chair, and then lying down on his bed. “Holy s**t, did you get in?” “I haven’t opened it yet,” I admit to him, my fingers tracing the outline of my name. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take the news. Any news.” On the other line, Dean scoffs at me and says, “Wayne isn’t going to wait on you forever, Aide. It’s either they’ve considered your second application and accepted you, or they’ve rejected you, and you’re not going to attend their university. Either way, you suck it up.” I love how he’s so direct, but still, my hand is limp on the envelope. “If I don’t hear you opening that letter, I’ll bike my way to your place and open it up myself.” “Okay, okay!” I exhale loudly, and then begin to tear the letter open. My eyes scan all the words that combine to form the sentence that I did not expect to read. “Dean…” I’m sure Dean’s sitting on the edge of his bed right now, his hand tight on his phone. “What’s the verdict? Are we both going to college this fall?” I blink back the tears that are threatening to fall as I read the sentence over and over again to make sure that this isn’t a dream, that this is real, and that I’m one step closer to my dream career of being on television as a TV host. “We sure are.” “Yes!” Dean’s voice almost costs me my hearing, but I know that he’s excited. If our mother isn’t downstairs watching her noontime sitcoms, and my childhood home isn’t made of thin walls, he would be causing a ruckus. “I knew you’d get in! Oh dear God, thank You!” I balance the phone between my shoulder and ear as I open the front door and bring the grocery to the kitchen. “I can’t believe this, Dean.” “I can. Dad would’ve been thrilled, Aide. He’s always wanted to see you on TV.” The mention of our late father triggers the tears again, and I let them flow for a little bit before I wipe them away. Daddy always believed in my dreams when my mother didn’t. She was more on the practical side of the globe, and I guess being raised in a traditional Asian household explains why she’s so adamant that I become a doctor. “I wish Mom would be as thrilled as you.” Dean sighs on the other line. “She’ll have to accept it at some point, Aide. When she sees how well you do in college in that major, I’m sure she’ll be proud of you.” “I hope so.” “Well, think about this instead. I’ll be proud of you,” Dean assures me gently, “and I know Troy will be proud of you too.” My heart suddenly stills at the mention of his name. Holy crap. “Oh no,” Dean mutters. “I’m familiar with this type of deafening silence. I thought he knew you were applying.” “He did. But I’m pretty sure he didn’t expect me to really send it in. He knows how flippant I can be, Dean.” “Well, then, I’m sure he’ll be happy for you. He’s always been your number one supporter, Aide.” He was. I wanted to correct Dean, but I don’t. I can’t just suddenly pour out my relationship issues to my brother, especially not after this good news. It would just ruin everything. “I gotta go, Aide. I need to finish up studying. Call me later?” “Sure. Bye. Good luck on your exams, even if I know a genius like you won’t need it.” My mind is elsewhere as I begin to fill up our pantry with the groceries I bought. I think of Troy and how he was amused when I told him that I was going to send in another application to Wayne. We were having dinner that night when I brought up that Dean was telling me to try and reapply to Wayne. Troy just stared at me like I had grown another head. “You’re kidding?” he had said, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Babe, they’ve rejected your first application. Isn’t one rejection enough?” “You don’t think that they’d reconsider me?” I had asked him, trying to mask the hurt that I felt from his words. Troy chuckled and shook his head. “Babe, it’s not that. It’s just, if they reject you again, it’s going to hurt you again. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” “Don’t you think that I could get in this time round? Don’t you believe in me, Troy?” Troy just sighed. “By all means then, go ahead and reapply to them. It’s your choice anyway. It’s your heart that’s going to get broken, not mine.” I know that he thought that I wouldn’t send it in because he must have thought that what he said to me would make me reconsider my plan. It wasn’t his lack of faith in me that had hurt me that night, it was the fact that he was becoming less of the man that I had fallen in love with each passing day. The Troy I fell in love with would’ve told me to go for it. This Troy didn’t think I could’ve been accepted. This Troy stopped dreaming. This isn’t my Troy. I can feel the tears prickling and threatening to fall as my mind drifts back to all the conversations that I had with Troy before his injury happened, and I’m reminded how much of a dreamer he used to be. Some days he seems like a stranger to me. A lot of people say that failure changes you for the better, but it’s not the case with him. Troy’s always been good at football. He made sure that he was the best player out there and it didn’t come as a surprise to everyone when he had scouts eyeing him on every game during his senior year. He was awarded with a scholarship to study and play for his dream university and I can still remember how thrilled he was that day. He went extra hard on himself when he trained and pushed his limit further. I could still remember that game. I made sure to watch his first one to show support. It was the first game of the season and it was against a rival school. It was one tackle, a foot placed the wrong way, and just like that, everything fell into pieces. He lost a part of himself that no matter how much I tried I could not retrieve. He suddenly stopped dreaming. He stopped believing. Everything just came to a standstill with him and he fell out of orbit, watching as the universe continued to move while he didn’t. The door opens just as I’m about to start making dinner, and I know that it’s him. “I’m home.” Troy stands in the middle of the living room when I turn around. Even with the distance, I can smell the alcohol on him. “Early drinking session with your buddies?” Troy snorts and tosses his bag on the worn couch. He crosses the short distance that separates us and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close to him. “I’m sorry. I know I promised, but Ronnie’s having problems with his wife. He asked me to go to the pub with him and have a few bottles. You should’ve seen him, love, he was a mess.” I purse my lips. We’ve just had a huge argument about his drinking not long ago and he had promised me he’d tone it down a notch. Just two beers and only at home, that was the deal. “And why did you have to be his drinking buddy? You could’ve just listened.” Troy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Love, I couldn’t just leave him alone like that. He can’t keep up with Mary’s demands, Aide. The guy’s drowning in debts just to please her.” “That doesn’t mean that you needed to drink too, Troy, and maybe Ronnie could’ve found himself a better job so he wouldn’t drown in financial problems.” Oh no. That’s not the kind of statement I’m supposed to make. Troy’s hands drop from my waist, and he pulls away from me. There’s a crease on his forehead, and I know that an argument is bound to happen after what I’d just said. “I didn’t mean it like that, Troy.” He scoffs, and then turns his attention to the fridge. He pulls out a bottle of beer, and opens it with the bottle opener hanging on the handle of the fridge. He takes a long drag. I don’t like it when he acts like this, when he’s stretching the moments before the impending fight. He licks his lips before he lowers the bottle, and his blue eyes stare at me with silent fury. Before his injury, our arguments usually were about petty things, small things that could be smoothened over by a kiss or a small smile. We weren’t big on fighting each other. But since his injury, he seems to act like he is the world’s most targeted victim. We fight over the stupidest things, and recently, it tends to lead to either of us walking out of the house, or me locking myself in our room and crying until I fall asleep. It never resorted to anything violent. No matter what happened to him, I know he’ll never lay a finger on me. But that doesn’t mean that his words don’t tear at my heart. “So are you trying to say that maybe I should get a better job so you could get a better life?” He tilts the bottle to me, his eyebrows raise. I hate how calm he’s sounding. This is the kind of calm that happens before the storm breaks. “Don’t put words in my mouth that I didn’t say, Troy,” I tell him, crossing my arms and leaning against the counter, trying my best not to glare at him. An argument is the last thing I need right now. We just made up last night over the last one. I think he realizes the same thing too because the anger extinguishes from his eyes, and he makes his way toward the worn couch. He turns the TV on to the highest volume, and I let out a huffed breath in irritation. An argument would’ve been better than him ignoring me. I walk out of the room and head to our bedroom, stripping to take a shower that would cool me down. Every time I talk to him, we tend to end up in an argument. Maybe I’m just thoroughly annoyed at the fact that I feel so stuck in Callisburg while he refuses to move on. Sometimes I want to break up with him. If I didn’t love him so much, I would’ve done so already. But then, where will I go? It’s not like I’ll be welcomed back home after I had left despite how many times my mother had told me not to. I’m sure my mother would be thrilled to have me crawling back and to rub it in my face that I’d made the wrong decision by being with Troy. In her eyes, Troy is the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. And recently, it feels just like that. Sometimes, I ask myself why I’m still in this relationship if I feel like he’s purposely driving me away from my dreams since his got broken. But there’s a part of me that still believes he’ll get out of this funk, that the Troy I fell in love with is still there somewhere, shadowed by the pain of broken dreams. I’m in the process of shampooing my hair when I turn the shower, and it sputters the water out until it can’t. I look up through the stingy bubbles falling into my eyes and groan. “Troy!” There’s no response. God damn it. “Troy!” I shout again, louder this time, hoping that it’s louder than the volume of the movie he’s watching, but all I hear are gunshots being fired and sirens. s**t. I hastily grab a towel and wipe the remaining shampoo out of my face and hair, and then wrap it around my body. I march outside of the bathroom and head to the living room. Oh, there’ll be hell to pay now. “You didn’t pay the water bill? God damn it, Troy, I reminded you last week!” But I find Troy in the kitchen with the acceptance letter in his hand. Oh, there’s definitely going to be hell to pay now. “What’s this?” I clench my fist and walk up to where he is standing. I grab the paper in his hands. “It’s nothing.” Troy scoffs. “You actually went through with the application.” I head back into the bedroom to change. I’m putting on my shorts when he comes inside, fuming. “Don’t turn your back on me when I’m trying to talk to you.” I spin around to face him. This close, I can literally smell the alcohol in his breath. “Are you really trying to talk to me or are you trying to pick a fight with me?” “I’m asking you what the letter is about, Adrienne.” There’s an edge in his tone, and I know that he’s close to blowing up on me. “I got accepted, Troy. Something good happened to me. Now, are you going to ruin it with your whining on and on about shattered dreams?” That’s below the belt and I know it. I’m not sure why I’m so angry right now. Maybe it’s because I didn’t finish the calming shower I’m supposed to have because someone didn’t pay the bills. “You know what, just forget about it.” I’m grabbing a sweater out of the closet. Maybe I could still catch the public utilities office open if I rush to get there. I push past Troy, and he asks, “Where do you think you’re going?” “Paying the water bill that you left unpaid after I’d reminded you to do so last week.” He grabs my arm and stops me, and then switches our position so he’s the one near the door. He blocks it so I can’t leave. “We’re having a conversation right now, Adrienne. f**k that water bill. I’ll pay it tomorrow.” I scoff. “I’m not sure how you think my acceptance letter is the problem here right now, Troy. That’s actually great news, and we can use it, you know? It’s been a while since we got some.” “This is good news to you, Aide. What about me? If you’re going off to Detroit to attend Wayne State, what happens to me? What happens to us?” I exhale loudly. Suddenly, I feel so tired, like the world had drained me of everything I am. The pre-injury Troy wouldn’t be asking questions. He would be happy for me, and excited for the life journey I’m about to embark on. There wouldn’t be questions. But this is post-injury Troy who I’m living with right now, and he’s not the same man I fell in love with. “What do you want me to do, Troy?” “I want you to stay.” “Why?” “Because I need you here, Adrienne,” he says it in a whisper, and he suddenly looks like a fragile, little boy, broken apart by the cold, unforgiving world. My heart breaks for him, but my heart breaks for myself too. “How long?” I ask him, staring into the blue eyes that always leave me breathless. “How long do you need me here, Troy? How long do you want me to stay? How long until I’m allowed to become the woman I want to be? How long until I’m allowed to dream again?” Troy stares at me, and I know that he sees it, I know that he’s seeing the woman who’s slowly draining away. He crosses the short distance that separates us and puts a hand on my face. “Where is this coming from?” I turn away and try to stop the treacherous tears from falling, but I lose the fight. I gnaw at my bottom lip before I answer him, “I just really want to go to Wayne, Troy. I’ve stayed here for almost a year for you because I knew that you needed me, but this is what I need right now, Troy. I need to be the person I’ve always aspired to become, and it won’t happen if I stay here.” “So you’re going to walk away? You’re going to leave me here?” he asks me, the disbelief written clearly on his face. “Don’t you love me?” “Don’t you love me?” I shoot back the question. My hands find his, and I grasp on them tightly, “Troy, don’t you want me to be successful?” “Does your success have to mean that you leave me? Does it have to ruin us?” As I look at him, there’s a spark of hope inside of me that tells me that the Troy I love is still inside somewhere, that he’s just been caged by the world’s cruel comments and a broken dream. “Come with me to Detroit, Troy. We can rent an apartment there, and I can get a part-time job while you work at another mechanic shop. We made this work; we can make it work in Detroit too.” But Troy stares at me like I just told him I could move heaven and earth. It’s in the way he looks at me that tells me that no matter how I try to push him to go with me, it isn’t happening. “You’re asking me to leave my entire life here in Callisburg to follow you to Detroit where I’ll have nothing,” he says. “I left my family to be with you, and you won’t do it for me too?” That’s a bad move on my part, but maybe it can work. There’s a part of me that still believes that we can make it work again, that we can bring back the love that we had before all this awfulness happened. Troy shakes his head and grips my hand tightly. “Stay with me, Adrienne.” “I can’t,” I whisper, the tears rolling down my cheeks. Is this what the end feels like? “Come with me to Detroit,” I beg him. My heart breaks when I see him crying too. “I can’t.”