F4: Keeping Secrets

"Anyway, one of them told my mom. I'd never seen her so angry. I could understand her being upset, you know? But she wouldn't listen to me, to my side of things. No, I was the horrible harlot daughter who had embarrassed her to no end, and she didn't know if she could ever look at me again."

The fight drained out of her and she sat down. She dragged a hand through her hair before continuing. "I got depressed after that, and it took Patti to get me to a counselor. I did and I started working on things, trying to put myself together and be happy again, somehow. It took a long time.

"So, you were wrong about me, Troy. I didn't have some perfect life. The happiness you see? The optimism? I worked for that, and you know what? I fucking earned it."

She shook her head. "I had so many people tell me how I'd ruined my life. How I was such a slut for doing those movies, and I'd always be one. They were wrong, but it took me a long time to realize it."

"So." She took a a napkin and dabbed at her eyes. "Maybe I should have told you. I told myself it was old news and didn't matter, but I worried anyway. That was why I was upset the time I found you watching porn on your computer. I was afraid you'd find the films I made, and see the things I did."

"What you did wasn't illegal, Sylvia. You made money to go to school. You didn't commit crimes to support a crack habit." She had to see it, he thought. She had to see that what he'd done was terrible, more terrible than what she'd done.

"I'm not going to try to one-up each other. If you want to say your life was worse, fine, it's worse. You win. It doesn't matter to me, but it obviously does to you."

"Of course it does. How the hell could it not? And I think it matters to you even if you say it doesn't."

Sylvia sighed and shook her head. "Think whatever you want. I can't do this. I'm going. I'm—I'm going to visit Patti."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about I need—we can't—I don't know. I need to think. I can't be with someone who's upset because I'm not acting the way you think I should." She got up and started toward the bedroom. "You can stay here if you want. I—I don't know after that."

Stunned, Troy stayed in place as she packed and left.

The sound of the door closing snapped him out of his thoughts and he frowned. What the fuck had just happened?

* * * *

The next day, after a late flight and little sleep, Sylvia was curled on Patti's couch, staring into space.

"Hey, you. Wake up." Patti shook her sister's shoulder.

"I'm awake."

"Your eyes are open, I'll give you that. I'm impressed after you got in so late." Patti gave her a sympathetic smile and sat in a chair facing her. "How are you doing? Did you get any sleep?"

"A little." Sylvia sat up and rubbed her eyes. "I'm okay, but I don't know what to do. It feels like it fell apart so fast. I don't even know what to think."

"You guys just need a little time, Syl. That was a lot of stuff neither of you were expecting. I wouldn't know what to think, either."

"I thought I was happy. He thought I was stupid."

"No."

"Yeah, I think he did." Sylvia took a breath. "He thought I was some naïve little thing who didn't know anything about the big, bad world. At least, he thought that until I told him about the porn films."

Sylvia had given Patti the basics of what happened when she'd arrived, but not much detail. She'd been on the verge of tears, so Patti had shushed her and gotten her to bed, telling her they'd talk the next day.

"All right, so you told him," Patti said. "What did he say?"

"Not much. The funny thing is I don't think it was the porn that bothered him. It was that I didn't get upset when he told me about his past, with the drugs.

"When I didn't fall apart, he got so condescending. He assumed that I'd had this flowers-and-rainbows life and couldn't possibly understand him. He's had a tough life, I get that, I'm not saying otherwise. But just because I don't bitch about my life doesn't mean it was all peachy keen."

"I know." Patti considered. "And he's wrong for what he said, Syl, but I can see his point. If you don't say anything, why should he guess that you had bad times?"

"I didn't want him to guess anything. I mean—oh, damn it. I don't know what I mean. I'm going in circles." She took a breath. "I am so pissed that he thought I was stupid for making an effort to be happy. But dammit, I worked so hard after what happened! You know what it was like. What I was like." She gave Patti a wan smile. "If it wasn't for you, God knows what would have happened."

"Don't talk like that," Patti said. "You were a mess, but you did what you needed to, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I helped, but you did the work."

Sylvia put her head in her hands. "Is he right, Pat?" she asked in a tight voice. "Am I fooling myself? Is all this¬—this optimism some kind of act? Have I just been acting all this time? Pretending?"

"No, no you have not," Patti said firmly. She sat next to Sylvia on the couch and took her hands. "You made a choice, and you did some things you weren't proud of. But you handled it, all of it. It's just something that happened, not the end of the world. If Troy can't see that, he needs a smack upside the head."

Sylvia made a sound that was almost a laugh. "I wish it was that simple."

"It may not be that simple, but it probably isn't that complicated, either," Patti said.

"I don't know. It feels like we were both pretending now. I wasn't, at least I thought I wasn't. Goddamn him, he's got me second guessing myself." She took a breath. "No, I loved him. I did. And I still do, but that won't help. We might have been this close to something, but we missed it. Doesn't matter how much you miss by."

"Sylvia, it doesn't have to be over. Nothing's set in stone." Patti squeezed Sylvia's hand. "Give yourself some time. And you know you can talk to me anytime. I'm here for you."

"Thanks, Patti. I know you are, and it means a lot."

Sylvia stayed that night and went home the next day, leaving early to give herself time to get herself in order before work on Monday. Responding to a promotion with a request for days off would not look good.

Her stomach roiled with anxiety and dread as she went to the apartment. She planned on a few nights in a motel while she looked for a new place, but she needed to get the rest of her clothes for that. Hopefully Troy would be out.

She put the key in the lock, took a breath, and turned it. Before she could pull the key out, Troy opened the door. They stood in silence.

This is stupid, Sylvia thought after a minute. She huffed out a breath and looked up. "Hi. I need to come in."

"Sure." Troy stepped back to let her pass.

"I won't be long," she said. "I just need to get—" She stopped and looked around. There were two suitcases and a couple of bags sitting by the door. She turned to Troy. "What's this?"

He shrugged. "I'm moving out. I'll stay with Reed for a while."

"Oh. Okay." It took her a moment to process everything. Sylvia had been so set on moving out herself that it was hard to change gears.

Troy rubbed the back of his neck. "Sylvia, come on. This is—this is crazy. I don't even know what happened anymore."

"I think, ah, I think we discovered some big differences in how we feel about things and deal with them. And you don't think I do it right."

"That's not true." He sighed. "I'm sorry for what I said. I was surprised."

"So was I."

"Okay, point taken. Look, Sylvia, I'm sorry. Can't we talk?"

"I'm sorry, too, but I don't think talking is going to help. Not now." Please leave, she begged him silently. She felt like she was holding on to her control by the thinnest of threads.

"All right. We'll talk later," Troy said.

"Yeah."

He took his bags and left. Sylvia dropped her bags in the bedroom, then sat on the bed with no idea what to do next.

* * * *

Troy took one bag out of the trunk and left the others for later. Feeling like he was on autopilot, he walked up to Reed's door and knocked.

"Come on in," Reed said. "Need help with anything?"

"No, I can get the rest tomorrow. This will get me through the night."

"Okay. Here, I'll show you the guest room." Reed led Troy upstairs and down the hall to a medium-sized bedroom. There was a bed, a dresser, and a closet. "It's not the Ritz, but it should do you. Bathroom's on the right, help yourself to the towels."

"Thanks, man." Troy dropped his bag on the bed. "Guess I've settled in."

"Cool. You had dinner yet?"

"Nope."

"It's your lucky night. I have burgers ready to go."

Troy followed his friend downstairs and out to a small back patio with a gas grill. Reed turned it on and took some beef patties out of the fridge as they waited for it to heat up.

"How are you holding up?" Reed asked as the meet cooked.

"I'm okay." Troy tried to roll some tension out of his shoulders. "At the moment, I gotta tell you, I could go with a stiff drink. Kidding, kidding," he said in response to Reed's questioning look. "Just trying to lighten things up."

"Okay."

"Thanks again for the space," Troy said. "I'll find a place soon. I don't want to impose."

"No problem. Just don't expect me to do your laundry."

Troy huffed out a laugh. "I expected better service from this place. I'm deducting a star."

"Shut up and take these inside."

Troy took the platter of burgers inside to the kitchen table. Reed pulled out plates, chips, rolls and condiments and set them down. As Troy retrieved glasses, Reed asked him what had happened when Sylvia had returned.

"Not much. She came back as I was leaving. We talked a little but—" Troy shrugged. "I don't know. We weren't ready, I guess."

"It's tough," Reed said with some sympathy.

They sat and started loading their plates. Before he started eating, Troy dumped ketchup and salt on his food, including the potato chips.

Reed looked at him, incredulous. "How the hell can you eat that? Why did you even bother to take the food?"

Troy gave him a half-smile. "The food is the delivery system for the ketchup."

"You could just use a spoon."

"Yeah, but then people look at me funny."

"I wonder why." Reed gave him another look, then turned to his own dinner. "So, you told her."

"Oh, yeah. I told her. And she said she didn't care."

Reed sat back and munched a chip. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"

"No. Absolutely not."

"I am just barely resisting the urge to say 'I told you so.'"

"Go ahead, you were right."

"Nah, I'll save it. It's no fun now."

"Anyway," Troy said with a pointed look, "that threw me, but there was more. I can't be too specific, I don't want to break a confidence, but she told me something about her that I never would have guessed."

"And what did you think?"

"At the time, I was focused on how she didn't get upset about my stuff. In a way it barely registered. But now that I've had a couple of days . . . I don't care. The stuff she told me—I wouldn't have thought it about her, but now that I know, I don't care."

"Get a chance to tell her that?"

"No. I didn't—I wasn't thinking straight. Wasn't thinking at all, I guess. I said some awful things. Fuck. This is so messed up." Troy slumped back in his seat.

"You do have a tendency towards making things complicated."

"Thanks. I needed to hear that."

"So what now?" Reed asked.

"I have no idea. I guess I'll call her sometime, but I'll give her a few days first."

They finished dinner and Troy helped deal with the dishes, feeling odd in someone else's kitchen. They watched some TV, but after the weekend he'd had, Troy realized he was exhausted and said good night early.

As he lay in the unfamiliar bed, staring at the ceiling, Troy wondered if things with Sylvia were beyond repair. The bright spot was that she hadn't shut him down when he mentioned talking; the darker spot was he wasn't sure when that might happen.

Shit, things made a lot more sense now, like her reaction to his occasional porn viewing, and how she'd frozen up the day they'd made love on the couch. She hadn't been sheltered, like he thought; quite the opposite. He wanted to tell her it was okay, that he didn't care, that he was sorry that had happened and he was proud of her for taking control of her life again.

He rolled over with a sigh. Where before he'd been afraid of talking to her, now it was all he wanted to do.

* * * *

"Okay, Sylvia, I have a date for you," Patti told her.

"Patti, I told you not to set me up with anyone." Sylvia smiled and shifted the phone to the other ear.

"Ha, ha. Very funny. A date for the wedding, dummy."

Sylvia laughed. "You pinned Gary down on a date already? I thought he was overwhelmed by choices."

"He had a point. We decided we had too many choices, so we're going to elope."

"Elope?" Sylvia sat up on the couch. "Elope? Why?"

"Are you upset about it?"

"No, no. I just didn't know you were considering it, that's all. What happened?"

"We were going over some plans and to be honest, we were both getting a little freaked out about everything. Every magazine we looked at, or every website, had a million conflicting opinions on what to do and not do." Patti laughed. "Then it turned out that neither of us wanted a big wedding in the first place. I want you there, and he wants his friend, Blake, from college. That's all."

"If it's what you want, Patti, then I will definitely be there."

"Great. How about next week?"

"Um, I'm not sure I can get the time—"

"Oh, no, no! We're coming out to you. Blake will be out that way for a business trip next weekend, so we thought we'd do it then. Saturday afternoon."

"It'll be perfect." Sylvia sighed. "I am really happy for you, Patti. This will be so great."

"Yes, it will. And you can thank me later for letting you skip the awful bridesmaid dress."

"I'll be forever grateful."

"I'm going to write that down." Patti laughed again, and Sylvia was pleased to hear her sister so happy. "Anyway, I'll let you know more details in a couple of days, okay?"

"Sure. Sounds good."

They said goodbye and Sylvia sighed as she sat back on the couch. The apartment was empty and quiet without Troy, and she had to admit she was lonely. She missed him. Patti's wedding would be hard in a lot of ways, but she'd have to try to ignore it and concentrate on her sister. She'd get through that day the way she'd gotten through the last couple of weeks: one at a time.

* * * *

Troy drove to the apartment, parked in the lot and got out of the car. He scanned the building and found the window for their unit, but it was dark. Nor did he see her car. Damn, she wasn't home.

He leaned against the car and pondered his next move. He'd gotten up the guts to call her, but she hadn't answered. Not wanting to give himself a chance to back down, he'd driven over to see her.

Staring at the building, he realized he wasn't thinking of their argument. Other memories crowded his thoughts, all good ones. He couldn't let those go without a fight, and he wanted the chance to make new memories.

After a few more minutes, he sighed and turned to get back in the car. He'd waited three weeks; what was one more day, he thought as he opened the door.

Some honking horns caught his attention and he looked over to see two cars, one of them Sylvia's, coming into the lot. They parked a few spots down from him and he heard the laughter as the occupants exited.

He saw Sylvia wearing a red dress, and realized the woman next to her was her sister. There were two men as well, both in suits. Patti clung to one of them, and Troy figured that must be her fiancé. Gary, he recalled. They'd met a couple of times and he had seemed like a decent guy.

Now's your chance, he told himself, and closed the door. He walked over, hoping she'd at least let him apologize.

"Sylvia."

She turned and stared at him, clearly surprised. Patti stepped up and grinned at him.

"Hi, Troy. How are you?"

"I'm, ah, I'm good, thanks. You?"

Patti laughed. "Married!" She reached out and tugged Gary over. "You remember Gary, right?"

"Of course." Troy held out his hand and Gary accepted. "Good to see you again, and congratulations."

"Thanks."

"I thought you weren't getting married for a few months," Troy said.

"We decided to elope," Patti explained. "Sylvia's done so much traveling to see me, and Blake—" she indicated the other man "—was here on business. We wanted them both there, so we figured why not come out ourselves and get married?"

"Why not?" Troy agreed. His eyes shifted to Sylvia, who met his eyes for a moment, then looked away.

"Ah," said Patti. "I think we've taken up enough of Sylvia's time." She went over and gave her sister a hug. "Thank you so much."

"Oh, you're welcome." Sylvia returned the hug and stepped back with a smile. "I'm so glad we could do this, and I know you guys will be so happy." She embraced Gary and then turned to his friend. "Nice to meet you, Blake."

"You too, Sylvia." He nodded.

"All right, let's go." Patti herded Gary and Blake to their car. "Let's get some dinner. I'm starved. You all can join us if you want. You know how to get to the place, right, Syl?"

"Yep." She nodded. "I'll let you know, okay?"

"Okay." Patti slid into the back seat with Gary while Blake played chauffeur. "Thanks again, Sylvia!" she called through the window.

Troy waved as they drove off, then turned to Sylvia. "Hi."

"Hi." Once more, she met his eyes but only for a moment.

"I hope this isn't a bad time. I was hoping we could talk."

"Ah, no. No." Sylvia shook her head. "I mean, it's not a bad time and yes, we can talk. Come on upstairs."

He followed her to the apartment, conscious of her apprehension and wishing he could do something about it.

Once inside, she closed the door and looked at him. "I don't know what to say."

"Me neither, but I'll start with I'm sorry." He took her hand and guided her to the couch. "I wanted to tell you about me, about my history, but not like that."

She nodded. "Yeah. I wanted to tell you, too. It's just hard."

"It is, but you did. And Sylvia?" He tipped her chin up so she'd meet his eyes. "It's all right. It doesn't matter to me."

"It doesn't?"

He dropped his hand and shook his head. "No. I mean, it does because it happened to you and I care about you, but it doesn't change how I feel. I should have been more¬—I should have been more sympathetic. I've had people look down on me, too, so I know how you feel, to some degree."

"It's scary." She took a deep breath. "I was scared to death you'd think I was some kind of slut and break up with me."

"I don't think that, because you're not. And I should have said that as soon as you told me."

She nodded and took his hand in hers. This time when she met his eyes, she didn't look away. "I really don't care about what happened in the past, except that it's part of you—of us. Whatever you did then, you learned from it or got past it; you changed. Like I said, actions count for a lot."

"Yeah, they do." Tentatively, he put an arm around her shoulder, relieved when she accepted it and moved closer to him to rest her head on his shoulder.

"So," he said after a few minutes, "what's next?"

Sylvia sat up and considered. "I'm hungry, so I think we should go join the others for dinner."

"I'd like that," Troy said. "It sounds like fun."

"It will be." Sylvia let a mischievous smile show. "Especially with the dancing afterwards."

"Dancing?" Troy shook his head. "If you value your feet, you won't make me dance."

"No?" She lowered her voice and looked up at him from under fluttering eyelashes. "Not even if I say please?"

"That is not fair," he groaned as her fingers traced circles on one of his thighs.