Mike & Savy Ch. 06

"Not for me. I still want to marry you, to spend my life with you."

Mike, you don't know what you're saying.

"I need time. This is too much. I never once thought about my parents. My family was you, mom, and me. That was it. And now I know who they were and it changes everything. How do I deal with that, Mike?"

I was giving in to that voice inside of me.

Mike whispered, "We deal with it together."

My voice became stronger. "Don't you see me differently now? Don't you see all the similarities we have?"

"I see you. You're my Savy. And I love you."

Mike...

The brief surge of strength left me. I was furious with myself. I collapsed inward.

He said nothing. I listened to his irregular breathing.

Eventually, he asked, "Does it hurt you that I'm here?"

Tell him no! Tell him you need him.

"I don't know. Everything hurts."

His voice went hoarse.

"Do you.... want... me to leave?"

Answer him, Savy! Just tell him to stay...

I said nothing. My heartbeat. His breathing. Everything was throbbing in my head.

Time passed. Immeasurable time.

I felt the bed shift as he stood up. He moved to me and leaned over, then kissed the top of my head.

"I love you. I'll do anything for you. The second you want me here, I'll be by your side."

Tell him to stay!

The door closed and I was alone.

__________

Amy returned some time later. I was laying on my side, staring at the wall when I heard her keys jingling and then the door open.

I felt her hand on my shoulder and her whisper my name.

I looked over my shoulder at her and simply said, "He's gone."

On top of everything else, I now hated myself.

I slept.

__________

On Monday morning, I never consciously woke up. I was just suddenly laying in bed staring at my ceiling. Amy was tapping away on her computer.

I quietly stood up and quickly grabbed my towel and shower basket before heading down the hall. As I turned the corner out of my room, I heard Amy say my name, but I didn't respond.

I stepped into the shower stall and turned on the water, only the hot faucet. It seared my skin and I watched as I turned red and steam filled the stall.

When I went back to my room, Amy turned towards me and started to say something. I cut her off. "I'm going to class."

"You don't have to. I don't think you should."

"I am."

I heard her typing on her computer. A few minutes later, Maria came into the room. I faced her.

"I'm okay."

"I'm going with you."

"No, I'm okay."

"Honey, stop. I'm not leaving you."

Maria walked quietly beside me as I trudged through the cold air to my first class. She stayed with me for the entire day, skipping all of her own classes. That night, she and Amy both walked with me to the dining hall, saying nothing. When Alexei saw me pass through the lounge, he made eye contact, but made no move towards me.

Tuesday was the same.

On Wednesday, I got a text message from Mia. She said that she had some of my things and asked if she could see me. I simply responded, "Okay."

When I got back from the dining hall that night, she was sitting in the lounge. Jeff wasn't with her, but she had a box and a bag with her. As soon as she saw me come into the building, she stood up and rushed to me, wrapping her arms around me. I was completely numb to her hug.

She didn't say anything before we got back to my room and she had set my things on the floor. I sat on my bed and she sat at my desk. Maria asked Amy to come to her room, to give Mia and I time, I guess.

"Savannah, I'm so sorry about all of this. I want you to know, Jeff told me... about all of it. I can't even imagine. We're both here for you, any time. You've been like family to us."

"How is he?" He was all I thought about.

Mia's face showed extreme sadness. "He's... not good. Jeff is with him now. How are you? Are you eating?"

"Sometimes."

We sat without talking for some time.

I finally spoke, "I don't know who I am."

"Sweetie, you're still you. You're still the Savannah that we all know and love. You're still a wonderful, beautiful, intelligent, and kind person. You have more information about where you came from and I know it hurts, but it doesn't change who you are."

But am I? I don't feel the same anymore. Everything is different.

"And Mike is the same person, too. He still loves you."

I dropped my head until my hair covered my face. "He's my... my..." I couldn't finish the sentence.

"I know, honey. I know. I don't blame you for anything you're feeling. I don't at all and I hope you know that nobody blames you."

"I blame myself."

"Please don't. It's not your fault. You haven't done anything wrong."

Mia moved from my desk to my bed, sitting next to me, then put her arms around me.

"We all love you. You're so special." Her voice was breaking.

We sat together. Eventually the door opened and Amy came in. She gave us an understanding smile before offering to step out, but I told her to stay. I was tired and wanted to sleep again.

Mia left, but only after I promised that she could come see me the next day. When she was gone, Amy hugged me goodnight and I curled up in bed. I wanted to call Mike. I wanted to see him. In the middle of the night, I woke up and picked up my phone and pulled him up in my contacts. The picture was the two of us.

I shoved my phone under my pillow and cried as quietly as I could until I slept.

On Thursday, Amy went with me to class in the morning. Afterwards, we ate lunch at the student union. As we left, I stopped in front of the union and looked across the street at the student health center. I had promised mom that I would go.

"Amy, I need to go across the street."

She looked across Campus Drive and saw that I was looking at the health center.

"I think that's a good idea, hon."

She walked with me across the street and into the building. At reception, a young woman asked how she could help me. I told Amy that I was okay now and I'd see her back at the dorm. She offered to wait, but I told her it was okay. She squeezed my hand and left.

I turned back to the receptionist and she looked more worried now. I still looked pretty awful and the concern from Amy must have shown her that I wasn't in good shape. I asked her if it would be possible for me to make an appointment to speak with someone. After getting my basic student information, she asked me to wait for a minute and stepped away from her desk.

A moment later, she returned with a middle-aged woman.

"Hello, Savannah. I'm Dr. Vargas. I understand you have some things you'd like to talk about. Would you like come back to my office?"

Softly, "Okay."

I followed her down two hallways and then into an office with her name on the door. She motioned for me to sit on a plush sofa on the wall and she sat in a chair across the table.

"Normally it can take a few days to get an appointment, but Carol said that it looked like you could use someone to talk to right now. Is it okay if I ask a few basic questions first? Everything you say in here is confidential."

"Yes."

"Are you in danger right now? Is anyone trying or threatening to hurt you?"

"No."

"Has anyone already hurt you or tried to hurt you?"

"No."

"Have you tried to hurt yourself or had thoughts about hurting yourself?"

Softly, "No."

"Okay. Are you using any drugs or other substances?"

"No."

"Are you taking any prescription medication?"

"No."

"Okay. So, would you like to tell me why you came in today?"

I sighed. I wasn't really sure how to begin. I'd never been to counseling before and this wasn't an issue I was really sure how to talk about.

"I... um... the past few weeks... my... fiancée and I... broke up."

I half expected her to grab a notepad and start scribbling down things about me, but she stayed in her seat and looked at me with sympathy.

"Oh, I see. I'm very sorry to hear that. I hope you don't mind my saying so, but you look very young. How long were you two together?"

"Um... we were together for... a bit less than four months. We... uh... knew each other for years."

"Why aren't you together anymore?"

I rubbed my eyes on my sleeve as I started to feel tears coming.

I could barely whisper, "I can't... I can't say..."

She leaned forward in her chair. "Honey, did he hurt you?"

I looked up at her. "No, no. It's not that. He was... perfect."

"What happened?"

I hadn't said it to anyone other than Mike or mom... Amy, Maria, Mia, even though she already knew, anyone... that Mike and I were adopted brother and sister, much less the rest.

"We found out... he's..."

I was crying. "... my brother."

Dr. Vargas and I talked for several hours. Once I got out that first sentence, telling her the truth, I was committed. I told her everything, her gently guiding me along with questions. When I couldn't say anything through the tears, she sat patiently and waited for me.

Before I left, she told me, "A lot of students come in here and think that in one session I can say something to fix everything and make their pain go away. I wish I could, but that's not how people work. I'd like for you to come back and see me on Monday. Would you be okay with that?" I told her that I would and she walked me to the reception area to help schedule the appointment. I was surprised when just before saying goodbye, she hugged me.

It was dark when I got back to the dorm. Amy didn't ask me anything other than simply, "Are you okay?" I told her that I was as okay as possible and thanked her for spending the day with me. To myself, I was thankful that she never pressed me.

Around six, Mia called and asked if I'd have dinner with her. She came over shortly thereafter and we walked to the dining hall. We mostly ate quietly, but I told her that I'd gone to the health center for counseling and she was glad to hear that. Neither one of us mentioned Mike.

One day at a time.

That was the only path forward. I finished my classes for the week and spent the weekend catching up on work. I was still a bit behind, but more able to focus. On Monday, I went back to meet with Dr. Vargas. She never asked anything about Mike. We talked about how I felt about finding out about my birth mother and father and how I felt about my mom, the only family I'd really known other than Mike.

I didn't blame mom for this. She was the messenger. I could understand why she didn't tell us sooner. It simply wasn't relevant information. She was my family. She had raised Mike and I as brother and sister. Absent knowing that we'd fallen in love, there was no reason to tell me about my mother and father. And I knew that she didn't want to hurt us. She was doing what she thought she had to do, given our news.

My birth mother and father? That was harder.

I didn't know my mother. I was too young. As hard as I tried, I just couldn't remember anything about living with her. The only thing I knew about her was that she'd been the other woman, which had hurt tremendously the woman that I thought of as my mom, and she'd died young. Before, it simply wasn't something I thought about, but now that I had to think about it, the lack of information was crippling.

For my father, I could only feel intense hostility. What I didn't know about him was heart-rending. What was his relationship with my mother? How had they met? Why did he do it? What I did know was infuriating. He'd devastated mom, twice. He'd abandoned us.

I had no answers, but acknowledging the questions was a step, at least.

Finals started that week. That was almost a blessing, despite having to struggle to be ready. Tests never stressed me, they were simply something to be prepared for and done. My exams helped to focus my mind away from the pain I'd been going through.

Maria and Amy continued to ensure I had someone to eat with every day for lunch and dinner, but they could see that I'd recovered enough from my lowest point to handle some of my day alone. I went to dinner with Mia late in the week and for the first time Jeff joined us. Jeff reminded me of Mike, just knowing that they were such close friends, but he was sweet in his concern for me.

After a weekend of studying and finishing my exams the following Tuesday, it was time to go home for the holidays. Mom came to pick me up. When we were across the Bay Bridge, I asked the question that had been haunting me, would Mike be coming home for the holidays? She said that he wouldn't be.

He'd left me.

I rode in silence for the rest of the drive. When we got home, I told mom that I was tired and wanted to go to bed. At the top of the stairs, I stood for a minute, looking down the hallway at Mike's closed door. I turned and went into my room.

The next day, mom asked me if I'd gone to the counseling center and I told her that I had. She started to ask something else a few times, but I don't know what she wanted to know. She stopped herself every time. We spent a few days puttering around the house. She had put up some Christmas decorations, but the tree wasn't decorated when I got home. She wanted to do that with me; we'd always done it together.

Christmas morning was surreal. It was just the two of us and we were quiet. I felt a pang when she opened the sweater that I had bought her on a shopping trip to Annapolis with Mike, when we were... together. She gave me several dresses and a beautiful leather bag to carry my things to class in.

She was trying so hard to be supportive, but not pressure me.

A few days after Christmas, I got my first grades from college. 1 A and 4 Bs. I wasn't used to that kind of performance. Mom told me she was so proud of me and that I'd done so well in spite of all I'd gone through. I was just angry at myself.

New Year's was mom and me at home. I told her that I wanted her to go out with her friends and enjoy the evening, but she wouldn't listen. I dodged invites from Mandy and Aly. We sat and watched a Les Miserables special from London before the ball drop from New York. At midnight, she put her arms around me and squeezed before kissing me on the forehead and telling me she loved me.

A few days into January, I was sitting in my room reading when something struck me. I hopped off my bed and bent down to reach under it. I pulled out a case and opened it.

My violin.

I hadn't played since my graduation performance. I ran my fingers over the strings, as they settled into the positions they were so familiar with from years of muscle memory. I set it down in the case and picked up the bow, still in good shape from when I'd had everything carefully prepared for my graduation performance.

I picked my violin back up and stood up, placing it under my chin, then raised my bow. As they made contact, a soft, slightly wavering sound was produced. I stuck out my tongue, an old habit that my teacher had broken me of for concerts, but still popped up when I was alone. I was annoyed at the note.

Again I laid the bow across the strings. The note was firmer, more sure this time. That was better.

My fingers began shifting, slowly at first, but increasingly rapid, as I worked through various scales. It was natural, familiar.

I transitioned into a song, my favorite from The Beatles, "While My Guitar Gently Weeps". My teacher always wanted me to play classical pieces, but I loved rearranging modern music and she admitted, somewhat grudgingly, that I had a natural gift for it.

I finished playing and looked up. Mom was standing in my door, smiling at me. I smiled back at her.

Over the next few days, I played more and more. It was too cold to go outside, but I could play on the sun porch. Mom would give me space, but every once in awhile, I'd catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye, lingering within earshot of my playing.

In the middle of January, I met with Mandy and Aly. I didn't tell them anything. We just talked about typical first college semester stuff and when they asked if I had a boyfriend, I simply said no.

My health was returning to normal, too. I returned to my typical 100 lbs. and my hair was shiny and full again. The permanent bags under my eyes disappeared as I was able to sleep regular hours. The dresses that mom had given me for Christmas were very loose when I'd tried them on, but now they fit very well. I felt... human again.

Before long, it was time for the spring semester to start. I had finished putting my things in mom's car and we were about to leave when I asked mom to wait. I ran inside and came out carrying my violin and slid into the passenger seat. Mom squeezed my hand before putting the car in reverse and backing out.

Back on campus, mom gave me the entire speech that I'd gotten used to about how she was so proud of me and loved me. It was comforting how normal it was, after all of the times she'd said similar things to get me through my worst times.

Amy wasn't back yet, so when mom left, I was alone. I ate dinner at the dining hall by myself. When I got back to my room, I pulled out my violin and began playing, moving between various pieces I had played over the years. I had to keep my brain one step ahead of my fingers, as I thought out how to transition from Beethoven to OneRepublic and back again. It was creativity within the mathematical rules of music. I loved it.

After a few pieces, I heard a knock on the door. I opened the door and it was my RA.

"Hi, Savannah. I didn't know you played... I always thought you were a science geek."

"I like both, I guess."

"You play beautifully, but I wanted to let you know that the sound does carry in here. Have you thought about practicing at the performing arts center?"

"Oh... I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bother anyone. It won't happen again."

"It's okay, like I said, you're very good. But give the center a look. There's some wonderful spaces over there."

"Okay, I will. Sorry again."

When she left, I put my violin away and settled onto my bed to watch TV.

Amy got back the next day and we ate lunch together. She said I was looking much better and raved about my hair, which I was letting down more and more again.

That evening, Maria was back and brought Filipino home cooking that was, as always, delicious. Afterwards, I ventured into the lounge with her and we say and chatted with friends that I'd barely seen, much less talked to in months. It was casual and... normal.

One day after classes had started, I was walking back to the dorm after my last class and remembered what my RA had said. I grabbed my violin out of my room and made my way to north campus and the performing arts center. Inside, I wandered through various hallways, just getting a feel for everything. I poked my head into a few of the larger performance halls, which looked to be of very high quality.

Upstairs, I found an empty room with a small stage and seating for about twenty people. The walls were covered with beautiful wood panels to provide a perfect acoustic environment and a piano sat on one side of the stage, leaving room for perhaps a small group of musicians.

I went inside and set my violin case on the edge of the stage and pulled it out. After prepping, I settled into some of my favorite pieces from the movie, "The Red Violin".

I played for some time, but stopped when I realized that the door was open. A young man was standing in the doorway. I didn't know how long he'd been watching me play.

"Hey, do you have this room reserved?"

"Oh, no. I'm sorry. I'll go."

I rushed to put my things away.

"No, no. It's okay. I was just looking for a place to sit and play a bit." He held up a cello case.

"Do you mind if I come in?"

"Uhh... no, I guess not."

He opened the door completely and came into the room.

"I'm Josh."

"Savannah."

After setting down his cello and opening the case, he looked over at me.