Shattered

Home > Other > Shattered > Page 3
Shattered Page 3

by Jennifer K Thomas


  We end up seeing a comedy that is ridiculous in its premise, but makes us all laugh nonetheless, even me.

  “I’m glad we got together tonight,” Vivien says as she hugs me goodbye in front of the theater.

  “Me, too,” I agree.

  “Coffee next week?” she asks as she digs her keys out of her purse.

  “Maybe…probably.” I don’t want to commit to anything yet. I’ll call her in a couple of days to make plans if I’m up for it.

  “Good night,” Ed says as he pulls me into a hug.

  “Ed, we were talking.” Over Ed’s shoulder I see Vivien has placed her hands on her hips.

  “Yes, and you’ll be talking all night if I don’t interrupt now.” Ed winks at me as he pulls back. “I would like to get my wife home before she’s too tired, if you know what I mean.”

  Vivien slaps him on his arm and he laughs.

  “Good night, you two.” Luke takes my hand and holds it as we walk into the parking structure. When we reach our car, he doesn’t unlock the doors. Instead he follows me to the passenger side door. I turn around and he gently leans into me, rubbing my arms when I wrap them across the front of me.

  “Tonight was good.” He stares into my eyes and my earlier irritation melts further away.

  “Vivien and Ed are fun.”

  “They are, but I was talking about you. I’ve missed that smile.” He tucks my hair behind my ear and I shiver when his fingertips graze the top of my lobe.

  Luke lowers his gaze for a moment and when it returns, it’s what I’ve missed. He looks at me with adoration and little bit of lust. “I love you.” His voice is low, soft, and just a hint seductive.

  “I love you, too.” I reply, and I mean it when I say it. No matter how frustrated I am with him, I’ll always love him.

  He gently presses his lips to mine. The kiss is slow, tentative. He tastes like the cinnamon gum he often chews as his tongue gently dances around mine. This is his way of telling me he misses me, misses the intimacy we once shared and took for granted. I deepen the kiss to let him know I hear him. Luke and I have a habit of communicating this way when we can’t find the right words.

  He slides one hand into my hair and places the other on my lower back, pulling me closer. A small moan escapes my throat before I remember.

  “Luke,” I murmur against his mouth. He pulls back enough so I can speak. “I can’t…the doctor said I should wait until after my next period before…”

  He leans his head back further and looks at me carefully. “I love kissing you.” His mouth finds mine again. This time the kiss is hungrier. His mouth and hands work in unison, trying to hold onto the moment, trying to hold onto me. By the time he pulls away again, we’re both panting.

  “You’re always worth the wait.”

  I wake up sweating and shaking.

  A nightmare. A terrifying, panic-inducing nightmare. I feel like I can’t breathe. I stumble out of bed and go downstairs to get some water. I notice my hand shaking as I reach for a glass, so I set it on the counter quickly, afraid I will drop it if I don’t. I lower my head and try to focus on breathing as the tears begin to spill over.

  “Jessica,” Luke’s firm, concerned voice startles me.

  “Luke,” I screech at him. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

  “I said your name three times. Here.” He reaches around me and grabs my glass to fill it.

  My hands are still shaking as I take the water from him.

  “Let’s sit.” He takes the glass from my hands and leads me over to the couch.

  “Luke, I feel like I’m having a heart attack.” I put a trembling hand up to my chest.

  He places a hand on my knee. “I think you’re having a panic attack.”

  Minutes go by as I try to calm down and steady my breathing. When I finally feel like I can pick up my glass without dropping it, I lift it to my lips. The cold water comforts my dry throat and gives me something to focus my attention on instead of the look of concern on Luke’s face.

  “Try taking a couple more deep breaths with me.” Luke holds my hands and breathes with me until I no longer feel like my heart is going to explode out of my chest. “Do you want me to get you a cup of tea or anything?”

  “No.” I look down at my feet and feel my cheeks flush. “I’ve never had a panic attack before.”

  Luke squeezes the hand he’s still holding and speaks in a soft voice. “Hey, you don’t ever need to feel embarrassed with me.” When I continue to stare at the ground he goes on. “My mom used to get them.”

  “She did?” I raise my eyes to meet his. He doesn’t speak about either of his parents often. From what I remember of our high school days, he adored his mom. Losing her to cancer a few years ago must have been hard for him, but he never wants to talk about it, so I never push.

  “Yeah. My dad didn’t understand, so I became the one to help her through them.” I remember Luke’s dad as a tough man. He worked a lot, but when he was home, he was in charge. He rode Luke pretty hard, especially when it came to baseball. Looking back, I’m sure he did it with the best of intentions, but it created friction between them as Luke got older. They’re barely on speaking terms at the moment.

  I see a lot of Luke’s dad in him, but he also possesses some qualities his dad was missing. Luke’s more affectionate and attentive than his dad ever was. The time he’s spent with Amelia and the gentle way he interacts with her has given us both a glimpse into what kind of father he’s going to be.

  “I don’t remember that about her,” I say quietly.

  “She had them more when I was younger.” Luke rubs the back of his neck.

  “How much younger?” I decide to take advantage of his willingness to talk about her and press a little.

  “I guess I became aware of them when I was around nine, maybe ten.” He shrugs.

  “You were helping your mom through panic attacks when you were that young?” That’s not much older than Amelia. I would hate for her to have to experience what just happened.

  “If it makes you feel better, hers were much worse than what I just saw.” He laughs dryly and looks away from me.

  My heart sinks. “No, that doesn’t make me feel better at all.”

  “It is what it is.” Luke dismisses my concern. For someone who worries so much about others, he definitely doesn’t like the attention returned to him. “We all have some unpleasant things from our childhood.”

  I want to ask more about what he went through, but he’s already answered more questions than I expected him to, based on how uncomfortable he appears. “I think I’m okay now. You can go back to bed.”

  “You’re not coming?”

  “I’ll be up shortly. On second thought, I am going to have that cup of tea.”

  “I’ll make it for you,” he offers, standing.

  “No,” I say firmly, but gently. “I need to be alone for a few minutes.”

  He doesn’t move at first. I appreciate what he just did for me, but I know what I need right now and it’s not something he can be a part of.

  When I don’t give any indication of changing my mind, he reluctantly kisses the top of my head and leaves.

  I return to the kitchen and pull a mug from the counter. Once the mug is filled and heating up in the microwave I grip the counter and let the grief pour out of me.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning, neither of us mention the middle of the night events.

  Luke brings me tea in bed and I brace for the upcoming battle. Thankfully he makes no attempts to force me out of my protective layers of blankets this morning. He finds excuses to return to the bedroom several more times over the next few hours, each time eyeing me apprehensively. Finally, he lays down on the bed next to me and scrolls through his phone.

  I go downstairs at midday to put in a load of lau
ndry, and I come out to find Luke has moved to the couch to watch television. He continues to relocate as I make my way through the house, taking care of some basic chores. I know he’s concerned and he’s only watching out for me, but his constant attention to my actions and whereabouts feels stifling.

  I look at the clock with the realization that Amelia will be home in an hour. I need to have a conversation with Luke while we still have some privacy.

  I return from taking out the trash and find Luke sitting on the couch nearby. He watches sports sometimes, but I can’t remember ever finding him like this, just watching a sitcom. He doesn’t even have his laptop or phone in front of him like he usually does. He’s just staring at the screen. It’s a visual reminder of the toll this situation is taking on him.

  “Hey.” I sit next to him.

  He presses the off button on the remote and turns his body halfway toward me.

  “The last couple of weeks have been hard, for both of us.” I look down at my feet, knowing he’s not going to like what I’m about to say.

  “I know.” He places a hand on my knee. “We’ll get through it. You need to stop thinking about it so much, maybe a weekend away would help.”

  I sigh. “This isn’t helping.”

  “What do you mean?” He tilts his head, trying to understand.

  “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but…” I pause, not wanting to sound harsh. “I think a little space would be good for both of us.”

  Luke sighs as he removes his hand from my leg.

  “I’m sure you have things to take care of in San Francisco this week.” Despite his normally heavy travel schedule, I’m sure his presence in the office is needed, not to mention he still has his apartment and other obligations there to deal with. Staying with me in Temecula for the last few weeks must mean he has a ton of things to catch up on.

  “I’m not leaving,” Luke asserts with a glare. This is going to be more difficult than I hoped.

  “I need for you to hear me. I need some time to grieve. I know you’re trying to help, but the best way for you to do that right now is to give me some space.”

  “If by grieve you mean you want to lay in bed and cry all day, then the answer is no.”

  I shake my head. “Excuse me?” Even though I imagined this to be how he felt, hearing him actually say the words is startling.

  “I said no.” Luke folds his arms across his chest.

  “I heard you the first time, I was giving you a minute to rethink your response.” I narrow my eyes at him. I realize that asking him to give me some space wasn’t going to be easy for him to hear, but I’m tired and not in the mood for him to flat out dismiss what I’m telling him.

  Luke doesn’t say anything, but keeps his eyes focused on mine. His rigid body giving every indication that he’s not giving in.

  “God, you’re stubborn.” I release a frustrated sigh. “You’re making this worse.”

  “Staying in bed all day and isolating yourself isn’t going to help. It’s not healthy and it’s not happening. Not on my watch,” Luke says firmly, and sets his jaw.

  “Then consider yourself relieved of your watch.” I tap my foot against the edge of the coffee table.

  “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “Really? Tell me how you think it works, Luke.” I uncross my legs and lean slightly toward him.

  He runs a hand through his hair. “I love you and I’m not going to just walk away and leave you to…”

  “To what, Luke? Be sad? Stop trying to fix me.” I quickly rise from the couch and walk into the kitchen.

  Luke follows me. “That’s a shitty thing to say. I’m not trying to fix you.”

  I spin around to face him. “Yes, you are. You follow me around and tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing. You tell me how I should or shouldn’t be feeling.”

  Luke pinches his lips together. “That’s not fair. I’m not trying to control you, but I’m not going to sit back and watch you hide from the world.”

  “I’m not hiding, I’m trying to keep it together. And since you brought it up, what’s not fair are your comments about miscarriage being a common occurrence and that we’ll just try again.”

  “You don’t want to try again?” Luke looks surprised and maybe a little hurt.

  “I don’t know. That’s not the point.” I shake my head vigorously.

  “What is your point, Jessica? That I’ve been too attentive? Too concerned? I’m sorry, but when I see someone I love hurting, I’m not going to sit back and do nothing.”

  He didn’t hear anything I just said. “You’re making me feel like I’m doing something wrong, like I’m disappointing you all the time.”

  “You’re not disappointing me.” Luke leans back against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. He tilts his head up to the ceiling and blows out a huff of air. “This is ridiculous. If you really want me to leave, I’ll leave. I have a board meeting for Second Chances this week, anyways.” Second Chances is the non-profit center for children Luke has worked with for several years. It’s very important to him and is something he plans to continue to be involved with even after he moves down here permanently.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. I know him returning to San Francisco is the best thing for us right now, but I feel guilty knowing I’m hurting him. “A little distance will be a good thing, for both of us.” When I open my eyes, Luke is glaring at me again.

  “Don’t twist it. You want me to leave, that’s your choice, definitely not mine.”

  “You’re watching reruns of old eighties sitcoms on my couch. Being here isn’t healthy for you, either.” The frustration causes my voice to pitch.

  “I don’t care if it’s healthy for me, I’m fucking worried about you.” Luke raises his voice and I flinch. He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’ll leave tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want you to leave mad,” I say in the voice I use with Amelia when she gets too worked up. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

  “Why won’t you let me help?” Luke narrows his eyes slightly and gives his head a small shake. “And don’t tell me that panic attack last night was nothing. I saw the look on your face, Jessica. You looked terrified.”

  I look away, embarrassed by the memory. “I’ve never had one before.”

  Luke softens his tone even more. “It’s not something to be embarrassed about, but I’m glad I was here.” He hesitates before continuing. “Maybe you should talk to someone.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary.” I shake my head. Another comment that makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong.

  “Something has to change.” Luke reaches for me, but I take a step back.

  “My baby died, I’m allowed to be sad. If that makes you uncomfortable, maybe you need to go talk to someone.” I realize how childish it sounds as soon as the words escape my mouth.

  Luke drops his outstretched arm and studies me for a moment. “It was my baby, too.”

  I shake my head. He doesn’t understand, and this conversation is only going to piss me off more. Luke’s more affected by me and my reaction than by the actual miscarriage itself.

  He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it and closes it. He stands there looking at me as though he doesn’t recognize me. “The wedding venue called, said you haven’t returned their calls regarding completing the contract.”

  Luke and I were so excited about getting married that we toured a few local places right after Christmas. We immediately fell in love with one of the outdoor venues and when they had the date available, we decided to put down a deposit for a Saturday in early spring. “I’ve been busy.”

  He runs a hand through his hair and leans back against the counter. “I’m trying here, Jess. I’m trying to understand.”

  “
There’s nothing to understand, Luke. I just got busy and forgot.” The truth is our wedding hasn’t been on my mind at all.

  “Not that. I’m trying to figure out what to do here.” Luke pushes off from the counter. He eyes me carefully. “I think we should tell them to give the date to someone else. We’ll pick a new date later…”

  “No, I’ll call them back. We’ll keep the date.” I say in a panic.

  Luke shakes his head. He doesn’t break eye contact as he steps toward me, speaking softly. “Jessica, I love you and I want to be married to you…someday.”

  His last word sears my already sensitive heart. “Fine, we’ll postpone the wedding.” I say quickly and turn away so he can’t see my tears.

  Luke wraps his muscular arms around me from behind. He buries his face in between my neck and shoulder, holding onto me, almost too tightly. “I’m not going anywhere, and I am going to marry you, but not like this. I want our wedding day and everything about it to make you smile.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, but a few tears find their way despite my best efforts.

  When a tear lands on his flexed forearm he turns me around to face him. He places both hands on either side of my face and offers a small smile. “There’s no rush. You and I, we’re forever.” He punctuates his words with a gentle kiss.

  There was a rush before. He’s right, now that there’s no baby, there isn’t a reason to get married right away.

  He wraps his arms around me again and holds me close to him for a long time. “I love you and I’ll give you whatever space you need,” he says when the silence becomes deafening.

  The first night without Luke in the house was a relief. Amelia and I watched a movie after dinner. It was a comedy, but I still teared up when the main character announced she was having a baby near the end of the film. After I put Amelia to bed, I spent some time on the computer doing some online shopping and then watched a recorded episode of my favorite reality show. Sleep found me only after I took an over-the-counter medication to help.

  By Thursday night, I can honestly say I miss Luke. As I promised him before he left, I have checked in with him all week. He doesn’t ask for details, but I make sure to tell him that I have eaten and that I’ve been productive at work. He’s careful not to react too much to my daily reports, but I can tell they help put his mind at ease.

 

‹ Prev