by Jacie Lennon
Part of me is glad she’s sticking through this with me, and the other part just wants her to leave. I can’t figure out why. Why am I so against comfort?
Grams still hasn’t woken up, and the only reaction I’ve gotten from her is a few hand squeezes, which I believe are just muscle spasms. The doctors don’t think she will pull through, and Dad has been spending less and less time here. I’m angry. Angry that he’s not here with her, angry that I am in this situation to begin with, and angry that Grams—the best person I’ve ever known—is about to die. It’s not fair.
The few times I’ve left are for my mandatory shifts at the station or to go home and shower. I spend the time at home in a bottle, and I have secretly stashed mini bottles in my bag at the hospital. If Jules suspects, she hasn’t said anything. It’s the only thing helping me get through this. I know I should be leaning on Jules, but I can’t let myself go enough to do that. I can’t let that vulnerability show, so I hide behind the liquid and let it drown my insecurities and anguish.
Another twitch of Grams’s hand has me sitting up, and I hear Jules rustle in the corner. I squeeze Grams’s hand back, hoping for something, anything.
“Mason?” Jules’s timid voice grates on my nerves. “Do you need anything?”
“You should go,” I reply, my tone bitter.
I don’t look up. I don’t want to see the hurt in her eyes, but I want her to stop trying to take care of me.
Silence descends between us, and I hear her sigh.
“I don’t want to leave, Mason. I want to be here for you. But if that’s truly what you want—”
“It is.” I look up this time and meet her eyes, willing mine to stay hard and not let my feelings show through.
“Okay,” she says, nodding. Finally giving up.
Like I knew she would.
I follow her motions as she gathers her purse and book and throws her blanket over her arm, and then she walks toward me. I let her draw me into a hug and lay a kiss on top of my head, and I relish in the feeling before she walks out the door, letting it close silently behind her.
30
Jules
Once I get home, I spend time taking care of the laundry I have put off, clean up my little apartment, and try not to think about how Mason so coldheartedly kicked me out of the hospital room. I try to give him the benefit of the doubt with the situation he’s going through, but it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the way he seems to look through me instead of at me now.
I collapse on the couch with a glass of water, munching on some crackers and telling myself to move to the bedroom before I fall asleep right here.
I jolt upright when I hear a crash, realizing I never made it to the bedroom before falling asleep. The crash sounds again. It sounds like someone’s trying to tear my door down. Bleary-eyed, I hit my phone, making the screen light up.
Two-thirty in the morning.
I’m going to kill whoever it is.
I wrap the blanket around me, jumping as another loud bang sounds.
“I’m coming,” I yell at the door as I trudge around the couch.
I unlock the door, throwing it open as I prepare to berate Mason’s ass for showing up at this time in the morning after how he kicked me out before.
“Evening, Jules.” Kyle smirks back at me.
Before I can slam the door, he sticks a hand out, keeping it open.
“You need to leave,” I hiss at him, trying not to show the fear that is settling in my belly. “Why are you here?”
The smell of alcohol once again flows off of him, and I have a sense of déjà vu from the last time he was standing at my door. I have a sinking feeling as I realize that Mason won’t be here to save me this time. Kyle’s large body leans in close to me, and I cover my mouth.
“Where’s that asshole who is usually hanging around you? Did he finally figure out what a bitch you are and leave?”
Kyle smells like he hasn’t bathed in a few days, and I’m trying to hold my breath and not pass out at the same time.
“He’s inside, asleep. You need to leave.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Jules. I know he’s not here. I’ve been watching the place. He hasn’t been here in days.”
My pulse picks up, and fear rushes through me.
“You’ve been watching me?”
“Someone’s got to keep an eye on you,” he says, leaning in again, reaching for my face, but I step back.
My mind races now that Kyle is partially inside my apartment. I can’t physically get him to leave, but maybe I could reach my phone in time to call the police. I school my face to appear as if I’m relaxed as I peer at Kyle.
“Thank you, Kyle. That’s, um … sweet of you to want to watch out for me.” I smile at him.
He looks at me for a moment before letting another grin stretch his disgusting mouth wide.
I knew he was controlling during our relationship.
Why did I overlook it so much? Why did I tell myself it would get better?
“Aw, Jules. I knew you would come around and realize that I was the one for you. You are a hard woman to pin down, but persistence is key, right?”
I wouldn’t call it persistence.
He takes another step inside, and I slowly back up.
“Can I get you something to eat or drink?” I glance behind me, finding where I left my phone on the coffee table next to the couch. I want to wipe my sweaty palms on my pants, but I stop myself. I don’t want to appear nervous.
“No, I’ve got my drink right here,” he says, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a flask, engraved with his initials, which he got from being the best man in his friend’s wedding.
I still remember that night and how drunk he was and the way he yelled at me in front of his friends. I walk toward the kitchen table and pull out a chair.
“Why don’t you sit down and rest for a bit? You look tired,” I say, patting the back of the chair.
He walks toward me before stopping.
Come on, I silently chant, needing him to not be on his feet while I dart for the phone and then try to make it down the hallway and into the bathroom to lock the door.
Before I can say anything else to Kyle, my phone starts to ring, and we both glance toward the den.
Fuck. I don’t move. I don’t want to appear suspicious. My eyes prickle with tears as I debate on what to do next.
In the silence that ensues, my phone starts ringing again.
“You going to get that?” Kyle asks while unscrewing the top to his flask.
I give him a quick nod before walking stiffly toward the den and picking my phone up.
Hanna? Why did Hanna call me this early in the morning? Oh God, one of the kids?
I quickly plan what to say before turning to Kyle. “It’s Hanna. I think something might be wrong with one of the kids. I’m going to call her back real quick,” I say before walking toward the hallway.
For someone so drunk, he moves rather quickly to block my path, and my heart sinks.
“Why don’t you sit at the table with me and call her back?”
He smiles, and I hold back a grimace.
“Great idea, Kyle. It will only take a second.” I smile back at him before sinking into a chair. I hit the Call button with a shaky finger, raising it to my ear, and wait for Hanna to pick up.
“Hey, Jules,” Hanna says calmly.
I squint. What? Hanna called me in the middle of the night to talk?
“Hey, Han. What’s up?” I say and try to control the panic I’m feeling.
“Hey, just wanted to let you know that Mason called Ezra to pick him up from the bar tonight. He kept muttering about going to your place, but Ezra refused to take him. He’s at our house, and he wanted me to call you in the middle of the night and tell you that he wouldn’t be back tonight. He insisted before falling asleep on our couch.” I can hear the concern tinged with anger in her voice.
Mason went to a bar once I left the hospital?
“What? No, I just told you, he’s asleep on our couch,” she says in a bewildered tone.
“Great. Thank you so much, Han, for telling me. I’ll be waiting at the door for him,” I say, feeling Kyle’s angry gaze on me.
“What? Jules? What’s—”
I hang up on Hanna and turn to Kyle. His eyes are flashing at me as he takes another swig of whatever poison he has in his flask.
“Mason is on his way here, and I need to let him know that you are back in my life. We should talk things out, Kyle. I was wrong, and I know that. I want to make it up to you, but maybe you should come back when you are sober?” I smile and lean over to lay my hand on his arm, hoping he can’t see the lie written on my face. “Let me call you a ride. I want you to get back to where you are staying safely.”
Kyle leans back in his chair, biting the inside of his cheek as he stares at me with hooded eyes. “I knew you would come around, but I think I need to make sure that son of a bitch stays away from you,” he says while laying his hand over mine on his arm.
My skin burns where he touches me and not in a good way. I want to pull my hand back and go shower, washing the filth off of me.
“Why don’t you let me talk to him first and then you can come back tomorrow? Where are you staying?”
He stares at me for a while before leaning forward with a grunt and a nod.
“All right,” he says and then gives me the name of his hotel.
I do a quick Google search for the address and then order an Uber, sighing in relief when it’s only two minutes away.
“Let me get you some water for the road.” I stand, surprised that he agreed to leave.
The phone in my hand starts to ring again, but thankfully, I turned it on vibrate after the phone call with Hanna, so Kyle can’t hear it. Looking down, I realize the Uber has arrived, and I quickly grab a water out of the fridge, walking back to hand it to Kyle and show him his ride is here.
“Did you drive here?” I pray he didn’t. I don’t want him coming back to pick up a vehicle.
“No, I took a car from the bar downtown. I was there and just missed you so much. I’m glad you are finally seeing reason. Tell that asshole that I don’t want to see him around you anymore. Better yet, I’ll tell him myself tomorrow.” He points at me with a frown before his smile takes back over.
I hope that he won’t remember this conversation in the morning.
He leans into me, trying to kiss me, but I quickly turn my face, his lips landing on my cheek. I cringe at the feeling of him so close to me and have to physically hold a shudder back.
“I will, Kyle,” I say and give him my most charming smile before holding the door open for him.
I breathe a sigh of relief as soon as he’s on the other side, and I rush to put the locks in place. The tears I have been holding back freely fall as my phone starts to buzz in my hand again.
“Oh God, Hanna, Kyle was here,” I sob into the phone.
“What? What’s he doing in Nashville?”
With everything going on, I forgot to tell Hanna that he had come sniffing around.
“He’s stalking me. This is the second time he’s been here, and now I’m scared.” I sink to the floor with my back against the door.
“Wait right there. I’m coming over,” she says, and the line goes dead.
31
Mason
“How are you holding up?” Jules’s whisper penetrates my thoughts, and I look up from where I’m sitting in the pew.
Grams passed away in her sleep, and my heart is broken.
I just wish everyone would leave me alone.
“Not fucking good,” I say and then cringe when I remember I’m sitting in a church. “Sorry.”
Talking to everyone at the visitation was exhausting, and now, I just want to sit here in the service and let my mind rest. I don’t want any more questions or pitying looks. I don’t want any more hugs or hand squeezes or empty I’m sorrys.
“It’s okay,” Jules says, reaching to grab my hand and I let her.
I’ve been in a fog the last few days with planning the funeral.
“It’s going to be okay,” she says, almost inaudible.
I fight the urge to laugh.
Nothing is okay anymore.
“If you say so,” I say, taking my hand back. I don’t look at her. I don’t want to see the hurt in her face. I’m pulling away; I know I am. But I can’t see past this gaping hole in my heart right now.
I continue to avoid people, and before I know it, a few weeks have passed with me ignoring my mom’s calls. I don’t answer Jules’s endless texts and calls when we aren’t together, and when we are together, I’m wishing she would leave me alone. I go to work at the station and the bistro and then come home and drink myself to sleep. I have stopped staying with Jules, not able to take her constant questions about how I’m feeling. My life is a fucking mess, but I don’t know what will fix it.
Today is a doctor’s appointment for Jules, and I pull up outside her apartment. After texting and calling her with no answer, I head toward the door. Jules opens at my knock, but she’s on the phone, a frown creasing her forehead, and I sink into a chair at the table.
“No. I said, no. I mean it. I’m done,” she says, and my stomach clenches.
“Who is it?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer. I know who it is anyway.
“I want you to go back to Virginia. There’s nothing here for you,” she hisses into the phone.
I ball my hands into fists in my lap. I want to hit something. Why can’t things get better instead of worse?
I hold my hand out, expecting her to hand over the phone but she doesn’t. “Jules, give me the phone,” I say, and she shakes her head. “Damn it, Jules,” I growl and hit my closed fist against the top of the table, the flowers set in the middle rattling.
She stops to stare at me and then looks at the table I just hit. She knows how I feel about Kyle.
“Shut up, Mason,” she says, covering the receiver. “What? No, there’s no one here,” she says, giving me a pointed look. “Calling me a lying whore won’t win you any points, Kyle,” she practically yells and then lowers her voice. “Leave me the fuck alone.” She hangs up and then turns to face me. “Hey.”
“What did Kyle want?” I growl and stand to stalk toward her.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“But I want to talk about it.”
“I don’t. I took care of it,” she says calmly.
I whirl to sink back into the chair. “Like hell you did. He was about to push his way into your apartment the last time I saw him. Then, he did push his way into your apartment when I wasn’t here. I have every right to not trust him. You need to call the cops on his ass.”
“I don’t need you telling me what to do,” she says.
God, why is she being so damn stubborn?
“Why do you get to avoid me at every chance and then act as if you care? This hot and cold routine is getting old, Mason. I was by your side for everything. I held your hand as Grams took her last breath. I sat in the seat next to you at the funeral and held you when we got home as you cried. I took care of things at the bistro for you, and I did your laundry, cooked, and cleaned for you. Then, you repay me by drinking excessively, leaving for long periods to sit at a bar, and generally avoiding me when you can.”
She’s right.
“I’m just trying to protect you, woman,” I say and then regret it.
“My name is Jules, not woman,” she tells me before getting up to walk to the kitchen.
She grabs a glass from the cabinet and sticks it under the faucet, turning it on. My eyes are on her the whole time.
After taking a long drink of water, she looks back at me. “I appreciate you trying to take care of me, but this is a difficult time right now. I think you should be focusing on yourself, not inserting yourself in m
y life and trying to control it.”
“You inserted me in your life when you chose to fuck me bare,” I say and then glance away.
Get ahold of yourself, man.
“It takes two to tango, Mason,” she says deadly quiet, a red flush rising over her skin. “How dare you insinuate this is all my fault. You are welcome to walk out that door if you want to go. No one is stopping you.” She points, her hand shaking with anger.
“Come on, Jules … I didn’t mean it like that,” I say with a groan.
I didn’t want this to escalate, and now, it’s getting out of hand.
“How did you mean it, Mason?” She sets her glass down and places her hands on her hips, prepared for battle.
I run a hand down my face before looking at her again. I don’t want to fight, but the canyon that has begun to develop between us ever since Grams passed away can’t be avoided. We were going to fight sooner or later with how high the tension has been running.
“I don’t know. Ugh. I don’t know how I feel about any of this,” I say.
“Any of this? What do you mean? You don’t know how you feel about Kyle, me, the baby? Who are you fucking talking about, Mason? I gave you a way out in the beginning, and you chose to do this with me. I haven’t asked you for a relationship. I asked you to be a father. You are the one who chose to come over here and stay, and now, you aren’t. I’m a grown woman. If you were truly concerned about my safety, you wouldn’t be out every night, drinking.” She pulls a kitchen chair out and sits down abruptly. She rubs her temples and then leans forward, moaning. “I feel sick. Will you grab me a Gatorade and some crackers?”
“Jules, I know you didn’t ask me for a relationship, and I’m the one who decided to stay and then leave. I don’t know how to be your boyfriend. Fuck, uh … I mean, what even are we anymore?” I grab the crackers and Gatorade from the pantry and set them in front of her. “I don’t want to control you, but I’ve told you, I don’t like how Kyle treats you. He’s stalking you, and since you are carrying my—our child, I would like to protect you and him or her.” I motion to her stomach that is starting to round.