A/N- I've got a good feeling, but I don't know. Hehehe.
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CHAPTER 42
Dear Chaparra,
You're reading this which means that I am no longer. For that, I'm sorry but I'll have you know that I went into this ready to fight. Docs told me that I had minimum chance of survival but it was now or never. Death doesn't scare me, never. Just the fact that I'm leaving behind people who depend on me…people like you, lil' sis. I wrote this letter in hopes of making your closure come faster and void you of any pain, but I know that's impossible. So, doll, cry for me but not for long. We'll see each other in the next life. Be sad, cry if you have to—but try like hell to move on. You're young as hell still and wasting life on the dead…no.
'Fore I went in, I told Phil of the shit that went down in the years in between. You're still in love with him and he's with you. He's a good guy. I'm kinda satisfied that I will be leaving you in the arms of someone worthy of you. Stop pushing him away…stop. When you get around to fucking, please…PLEASE use those rubbers. Stay away from Colt's creepy ass…I'm laughing as I say this—HE IS WHIPPED on that Darcy chick. Only thing is, I feel bad for Maria…since you've been out cold, all Punk does is sit and wait on you to come around. With that Batista dude gone, Maria is left lonely. Get the girl a man.
Should've taken your word on Luz…that cunt bitch. I'm not gonna hold a grudge…not going to die like that. Only thing I regret is not having whooped Noah's bastard self. Getting locked up isn't enough.
Tell my jefa to keep strong and keep her head up. She hates you now even more than…ever. Don't let that get you down though; I did what I did because I wanted to. If I had another chance to do things over…I'd dive in for your shots. Anyway, tell moms that I love her from wherever I am to the end of infinity. Tell my…my father that I forgive him. I'm not going into this surgery with regrets and shit. So, yeah…tell Dips that I-I love him for all he's done for me. Tell him that to please keep InkBlot in business…in my honor.
Now, if I deserve anything outta this lifelong friendship…I'd like to ask for a favor. It's simple. Tell Micks that I love her, HAVE loved her…ALWAYS will be in love with her. Tell'er that I went out like a brave motha'fucka'. Tell her to remember me…and to tell our daughter how much I wanted to be there for her. How fuckin' excited I was to have her…if Micks won't, tell her yourself…tell her how badass her daddy was. It saddens me that due to my princess being an at risk preemie…I won't ever get to meet her now.
I'm done. I wish I had a couple hundred pages and all the time in the world but my head pulsates with every word. This isn't a goodbye…never. This is a…I'll be seeing you when you get to wherever I am, Marleene. I love you so fuckin' much. I love all of the people in my life…thank you for having impacted my life in sucha beautiful, crazy way. 'Till then…
Forever yours,
Wesley Efrain Mendes
(P.S- I wrote in proper grammar just for you,)
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Re-read this letter about 10 times; cried every damn time. My brain couldn't…REFUSED to wrap itself around the fact that he's gone. He was prepared and the saddest thing was that he didn't fear death itself but what'd become of his loved ones. As for Micks's and him having a love child…it was truly unbelievable and sad. On my way back to my own room, I fainted.
Punk sits on my bed stuck in deep thought. It's almost 2 in the morning and sleep doesn't take me. I feel like sleep and I will be enemies from now 'till eternity.
"Phil…"
"Huh?"
"Take me to see the baby."
"How'd you know 'bout—"
"Wes's letter. Take me or I'll walk there…wherever it might be."
As we stand outside the nursery, Punk holds my hand. A blonde nurse passes by and he stops her, "Excuse me, miss. Are we allowed to enter the nursery?", he asks in a relatively kind tone…I guess he's too exhausted to try and be himself, a sarcastic asshole
"You the parents of one of these children?", she asks in a rather snarky tone while chomping ferociously on a stick of gum
"Um…no."
"Then there's you answer.", she starts walking off but Phil's engine is turned and he holds her back, "What's your problem?"
"MY PROBLEM?", he practically yells, "MY PROBLEM is you and your attitude. I've just lost a friend…a brother and I'm s'posed to deal with you, Blondie? That friend happens to be the father of one those bundles of joy! We'd at least like to see his little girl…his heir. Because that's all that's left of him—his baby.", Phil is livid, so livid he looks as though he's about to shank the woman
"Phil, please…calm down.", I urge him
Nurse lady stares at me, "No…let him go on.", she looks at Phil, "Tonight alone we lost 4 babies and 2 mothers. 2 babies will be motherless and will have to go into a foster home because their momma was their only relative. 3 mommies will have to go home empty-handed wondering what they did wrong to deserve this mishap. 1 mommy had to be admitted into the Psych Floor", she clicks her tongue, "You're not the only one, buddy.", she goes over to the nursery door and picks up a clipboard, "What's the baby's name?"
"She has no name…", responds a taken aback Punk
"What do you mean she has no name?", I ask confusedly…Micks had already picked out a name
"Uh…that's no—"
"No name…born 12 days ago?", asks the nurse interrupting Phil midsentence
"Yeah, she's a 34-wk-old preemie."
Nurse frowns sympathetically, "Okay, here's what I'll do. You guys get in those yellow scrub things and I'll allow you to be in with her for 30 mins, okay?"
We both nod and proceed to wash off and get into the yellow scrub shits. Once fully geared up, the nurse takes us into a room with about 8 preemies in incubators. She directs us to the 6th baby. Baby No-name. She instructs us not to pick her as she is not yet ready to be living on the outside world. With that info she leaves us with the nurse on duty.
First thing I notice about the nameless baby is the minuscule beauty mark on her right cheek…like her mother. Baby has her daddy's nose and ears…this brings tears to my eyes. Her hair is dark brown like Wesley's. Nervously, I put my hand in to touch her. When she moves slightly, I quickly pull out. Punk leaves my side for a minute and then returns with a rocking chair. He motions for me to sit and I refuse. So, he takes it up himself to sit down with me on his lap.
"Phil what are you doing?"
"I don't want to be difficult today…just relax, you still can't be on your feet for long."
"Thanks I guess...Phil?"
"Yes, beautiful?"
"Why doesn't she have a name?"
Phil tenses up, "Micks didn't even wanna hear her tiny cry after she was born…much less name her or look at her."
I don't reply. My attention returns to Micks and Wes's love child. The creature looks so small and defenseless…so innocent, not yet ruined by the impurity of the world. Not yet exposed to the cruelty of reality and unfairness of life. I gain the courage to stroke her once more and this time when she moves I don't remove my hand.
"Hey babygirl…you may not know this but I'm your Aunt Marleene. I've been waiting for you since the day I first found out you were in your mommy's tummy, little one. You're so beautiful…like your mommy. Not even you da-daddy's features make you ugly…Believe me, he was one crazy fucker…", just bringing up this child's father soured my mood, "He told me to tell you how much he wishes he could be here with you, babygirl…he love-loves you so much…", it's in this moment that I pull away and bawl for the 50 billionth time today.
Punk slowly rocks the chair to and fro. He holds me like an infant and tries to soothe me as best as he can. We both hurt but he is far stronger than I. Being in his arms like this makes me feel so tiny, so puny. When my mini tearfest subsides, I look up from the crook of his neck and stare silently into those gorgeous eyes. His fingers wipe away the remainder of my tears.
"Why do you insist of taking care of me?", I ask in a breath of a whisper
"Because I promised Wes…and because I'm in love with you—that's what we fools in love do.", he whispers honestly
I close my eyes, "Don't say that…", I whisper
"Look at me…", I open my eyes slightly, "I meant what I said…I'm in love with you.", a few moments of pure silence pass by and his face leans into mine…trying to catch a taste of my lips.
I turn and he pecks my cheek, "I can't do this right now, Phil…I-I'm so sorry.", with that I get up as fast as my balance lets me but he catches me, "Phil let go…"
"Could you just…?", he walks over to his new niece and gently touches her, "I'll be back, little girl. Don't worry, it's a fuckin' playground. You got Rick on the left and Anthony to the right…you won't be alone, I promise. Just don't let'em look at you the wrong way, y'hear young lady?", he caresses her tiny cheek and turns around to face me. Not even a word, he grabs my hand and forcefully takes me out of the room.
"Have you gone crazy? What the hell…let go!", I shriek
The wrestler stops abruptly, "I've lost one of my loved ones…I get to be cynical if I want. On top of that, you and your…", he doesn't finish just keeps on trudging in no specific direction. We reach a utility closet; he opens it, and pushes me in closing the door shut. What in the world is going on?
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Something about the look in his eyes, the way he watches me makes back up until I reach a dead-end. He closes in on me and before I can even think of reaching for the door, he puts both arms on each side of the wall…his body becoming a barrier. Somehow, as abundant as air is…the air in this damned closet is running out on the quicks. I can hear myself breath profoundly, "What are you gonna do to me?", I hate how I sound so fucking weak!
"I just want you to hear me out…All I ask for.", he begins
Seeing as to I don't really have any other choice, I nod my head feeling that it's gonna be a long day…or night or whatever it is.
"I'm in love with you, Marleene Karime Soto. Been in love with you since 1998. I can't tell how hard I tried to wash away every aspect of you from my memory since the day I caught you screwing my brother.",
I know where this is going…I look at my feet pretending that they're the most interesting items in the world. It's been one hell of an excruciatingly painful day and this I don't need…DESERVE, that I do but don't need, not right now.
Two finger come under my chin and lift it up, "Something in me couldn't bring me to hate you…As much as I wanted—NEEDED to despise you for such a fuckin' low-blow…I-I couldn't. You took over my brain like a tumor or a decease. Women came and left my life…you'd be the one I'd compare them to. Even Maria, so sweet so cute, couldn't take your place—never will, probably. It took me nearly a decade to finally come to terms that I'd never forget you, much less stop loving you.", he caresses my cheek, "That if you miraculously showed up at my doorstep and asked to stay…I wouldn't just slam the door in your face. When I picked you up in my arms that night in your old apartment…and recognized you…it killed me that having left you—you'd met somebody else. Somebody else not worthy—NOT man enough for you. Even though I knew you were out like light, I promised you that I'd never let shit happen to you.", even in this barely lit closet, I can see the tears forming in his eyes, "When I saw you and Wes go down…I-I died. I thought 'Now, I have really lost her…and my brother.'", he pauses to put himself together, "Spending every single moment next to you for 2 wks…waiting, hoping, praying that you could wake up. That you'd wake up and I could tell you how much I love you. How much I regret…how much you mean to me.", he plays with his lip-ring, "Marleene, I would've given heart, my lung, my kidney—ANYTHING, if it'd keep you alive, if it'd bring you back. Cheesy as it sounds. Cheesy, corny, and lost for words is how I am when I find myself talking to you about my feelings"
A single tear I let escape my eyes, "T-then why'd you treat me like a piece of shit? Treat me like nothing but lowly, scummy slut?", I look downward again, this time tears running down my face, "You dunno how horrible I felt after finding out about us and how and why we went so raw and salty. With the most urgency I had to drink, sniff, snort, smoke, cut you away, Phil. In those times I'd been going through so much that after you drove away…I gave up on us. Wesley probably told you. So, to be honest, I don't have a clue in the world how you can love somebody who did you so bogus. Someone who stooped as low as screwing your bro. Cannot fathom why you love me, how you say you do. Can't…", teary-eyed and all, I look up at the 6ft wrestler, "Only thing I can say is…I'm really sorry. So fucking sorry that it had to end in the way it did. Now looking back, I feel terribly stupid in having done that and having given up so quickly—I was but a meager, petulant kid with mommy issues. I'm sorry. I wish I could just—", I stop my rant and laugh without humor wiping my tears. Nothing's funny when you're crying and giving up your pride. "It's too late. You're with Maria, all in love and shit…she's lucky. Really lucky. And I-I'm alone…more alone than ever without Wes…", speaking of him just makes me wanna cry endlessly, "So…if you don't mind…Ima just head straight to my roo—"
Just as I start to towards the door, Punk gently slams me up against the wall, hooking his hands under my uncovered knees, and pulling me up—to anyone this'd be looking like a compromising position. This kiss…this kiss, he gives me with a sort of need. His lips slam into mine, trying to ply mine apart. They do—I kiss him back with the same need…desperation almost. My legs tighten around his hips and arms around his neck out of instinct. Even with the force his lips were soft, just as I remembered them. Soft and warm. His hands make clumps in my hair, gently pulling it. This drives me up the wall, I kiss fervently. My mind's as good as gone. Marleene… My slightly shaky hands travel up to his messy hair loving the feel of it—almost missing how long it has been since they've gone through it like this. Marleene this is wrong. Punk's mouth leaves mine and makes its way between nicks and kisses to my neck. He's STILL taken, Marley. This alone ignites the flames in my lower abdomen. Maria.
A growl brings me back to my senses. My eyes flutter open and it takes a moment to run through what exactly is wrong with this. Maria, his GIRLFRIEND. Realizations suck balls, they do. I push, or at least attempt to, him off and get back on my own feet. He stares at me with confusion, "This is wrong, Phil.", I wipe my mouth and pinch the bridge of my nose for having let this happen
"What's wrong? Loving you? Or you loving me?", he asks with bitterness in his tone
Furrowing my brows together, "You having a girlfriend is!", I run a hand through my messy hair, "You're in love with her…don't tell me otherwise, if she were a casual that'd go against your beliefs and you'd ended that long ago—Fuck buddies don't last long and don't call each pet names." Always something, said, or done that ruins shit. Punk's mouth opens as if to convince me otherwise but nothing comes out. And when I realize nothing will, I push past him. Swinging the door open I find a bewildered nurse, "Don't fuck with me.", I rush in the direction of the elevator.
Dinging of the elevator sounds and door open; I punch the button to my floor and lean against the wall and slump down. With my head on my knees and arms around them, I finally let sobs rack my entire being. Emotions overwhelm me and this…this entire mess of words and actions add to my feeling of sinking to a bottomless pit.
These are times when I need Wesley the most. These are the times that I wish I'd appreciated him just a bit more because, in all honesty, nobody could ever comfort me like him. You're still in love with him and he's with you. At this point…I have no clue how I feel about…anything.