Cursive

by Phoebe Lane

  "What just happened?" Jace said, anger and worry in his voice.

  "Nothing happened. I got out of the shower, and she came walking in like she owned the place," Chloe said.

  "Why were you taking a shower to begin with? And why the hell are you wearing my clothes?" he yelled and pulled at his hair again. "Argh, this can’t be happening!"

  He grabbed his phone and dialed Aislynn's number, all the while screaming at Chloe to get dressed and out of his house. He waited for the first ring, hoping Aislynn would pick up and not let it go to voicemail.

  But before it could ring a second time, Jace realized there was a phone ringing inside his house that shouldn't have been there. Worse off, the ringing matched the one in his ear.

  "What’s that?" Jace asked, searching the room for the sound. He walked over to the sofa and immediately saw it. Aislynn's phone was sticking out from in between the cushions.

  And right next to it laid a second phone that didn't belong there—Chloe's.

  "What did you do?" he said, turning around to watch a now nervous Chloe get up from her stool and back away from him.

  It all became clear to him at that point.

  Aislynn's cell phone had been in his house all along, and she had never gotten his text the night before. She had no idea he was back in town, or that Chloe had shown up at his house. It had been Chloe, not Aislynn, who had replied to his message.

  This is not good.

  Aislynn was seriously regretting going through the exercise of writing about her past. It had really messed with her head in a way she hadn't anticipated. Her argument with Christopher obviously hadn't helped out one bit and only drove her to stay up for a second night in a row.

  After realizing she had never gotten a call back from Jace, and that she hadn't heard from Ellie since she had left for Chicago, Aislynn went searching for her phone. It took her a few minutes to figure out she had mistakenly left it back at Jace's house earlier that day.

  Aislynn felt a sense of relief come over her when she drove to the house and saw his car parked in the driveway. She really needed to talk to him about the things she had been struggling with, and maybe finally tell him about what had happened with Christopher. But then she noticed there was second car parked in front of the house, and a series of disturbing thoughts and theories ran through her head in a matter or milliseconds.

  Oh, please, God. No.

  Walking into that house to find Chloe making herself comfortable in his kitchen had been heartbreaking. But seeing Jace walk out of his room, freshly showered just like Chloe appeared to be had almost brought her down to her knees. Her psychiatric training kicked in right away, and she forced herself to remain calm, at least on the outside. On the inside, she felt like her heart and lungs were being shoved down into her abdomen to make room for the unsurpassable amount of pain that was aggressively invading and taking control of her body.

  Back in her car, Aislynn's chest started aching and her breaths became rapid and shallow. A cold sweat dripped down the back of her neck, and she realized she was having a panic attack.

  So this is what it feels like. Yeah, this is horrible.

  She stopped her car by the side of the road just a few blocks away from Jace's house, in an area of the coast that didn't have any homes built yet. She got out of her car, crossed the street, and sat down on the sand out of visible range from passing cars. The first rays of sunlight tried to rise in the horizon, but the heavy clouds stubbornly covered them, almost like they were trying to push the sun back down into the surface of the water. The air smelled heavy of ozone, like it did just before a rainstorm.

  She concentrated on her breathing, doing the things she had taught her patients how to do while going through a panic attack, and tried to regain control of her body. After ten minutes or so, the peak of her attack passed and she was able to fight off the waves of nausea, grateful that the ringing in her ears had stopped.

  "You really didn't see this coming, love?"

  Ugh. Somebody kill me, please.

  Aislynn turned her head slightly and saw Christopher approach her, his steps measured and confident.

  "This really isn't the right time for this, Christopher. Please…Just, please, leave me alone."

  "So the guy is cheating on you, huh? And with his ex? With the girl that broke him?" he taunted her, and chuckled. "I guess he did say that at one point he was convinced Chloe would be the woman he would marry. Of course, that was right before he got sick and she abandoned him."

  "Stop it," she warned.

  Even with the conclusions that she had inevitably reached after seeing Jace and Chloe together at the house, Aislynn held a glimmer of hope that it was all a misunderstanding. But Christopher was now bringing up things that made her second-guess herself.

  "And where exactly does this leave you now, love? Alone again. No boyfriend. No mother. No father. And for all intent and purposes, no Ellie either, now that she's moving in with Evan."

  "You're wrong…about everything. And for fuck’s sake, stop calling me 'love.'"

  "That's on you, Aislynn. You can't pin any of this on me," he said.

  "I will pin whatever the hell I want on you!" she said, getting back up on her feet.

  "And why is that? Why are you so angry at me?"

  "No!" she said, shaking her head vigorously and pulling at her hair.

  "Say it, Aislynn!"

  "Shut up!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, and hoped she could put her hands on him, push his chest hard, try to hurt him in some tangible way.

  "Say it!"

  "Fuck you!" she screamed again, her throat now raw.

  "Why do you hate me?" he pressed, his body now only inches away from hers.

  "Because you're no better than any of them! Because you abandoned me, too! Because you died! Because you did this to yourself, and you killed a part of me the day you drove your car off that fucking cliff!" she yelled and fell to her knees, tears running uncontrollably down her cheeks.

  A few moments passed before Christopher knelt next to her and reached for her face, seemingly wanting to console her, but was unable to touch her.

  "Aislynn…I’m sorry for pushing you like this, love, but this needed to be done. You needed to bring yourself to this point," he whispered in her ear. She was crying so hard that she began gagging, nothing coming up but air as she hadn't eaten anything since the day before. "Now, you have to calm down."

  She sat back down on the sand and put her head between her legs, forcing big, cleansing breaths in.

  "I can't do this," she finally said.

  "You have to. You need to go to him and tell him. You know this, love," he said with a soothing voice. "That's why I'm here. This is the reason you brought me back. This is the only way you'll start healing."

  "It's more than that, Christopher," she said, avoiding his eyes, afraid she would lose it again.

  "I know, but this is the start. Now go," he said.

  Aislynn pulled herself up and started walking up the beach and away from him. She felt the first droplets of rain fall on her head as she turned back to look at where she had just been sitting.

  And just like that, Christopher was gone.

  Jace paced in his living room, trying to decide what to do next. Chloe made a lame attempt at explaining her actions, but ended up sealing her fate the moment she said she wanted to marry him and have his babies. He immediately picked up all her clothes and threw them out the door. He didn't even give her a chance to change. She had shown her true colors that morning—she behaved like a manipulative bitch trying to get him back now that she realized he had moved on with somebody else.

  He thought about going after Aislynn, but he wasn't sure where to start looking for her. She had been anything but predictable in the past, and he highly doubted she had gone home. But beyond that, there was a bigger sentiment holding him back from going after her—anger.

  Jace had to admit he felt confused, frustrated, and annoyed at her reaction. Yeah,
he could understand that what she'd walked into had looked really bad, but he resented her for not even giving him a chance to explain. He had never given her a reason to doubt him. He had been completely open and honest with her since the moment he had told her about his cancer, and he had even held back on pushing her for the truth about her past with her ex. He now suspected the situation with Chloe may have opened up old wounds for her and that her abrupt escape may have been a reaction to whatever had happened with Christopher.

  What else does she want from me?

  The minutes turned into an hour, and the anger turned into worry. He wondered where she was, what she was doing, and what might be going through her head. But most of all, he wondered if this whole thing was finally going to make her run.

  Another half hour passed, and Jace got sick of waiting for something to happen. He got in his car and went out looking for her. It was pouring rain outside, but that didn't prevent him from catching sight of her car parked on the side of the road a few blocks away from his house. He pulled up behind it and got out to check the inside, but she wasn't there. He searched around the area, but couldn't find her anywhere.

  Where are you, babydoc?

  Aislynn couldn't remember at what point she had started running. The rain was coming down hard, making it difficult to see where she was going. When she finally spotted the house, she pushed harder on her legs, willing them to take her where she needed to go.

  But when she got within twenty feet from the deck to Jace's house, her body locked in and she couldn't move anymore. It was the most infuriating feeling to not have any voluntary control over her body. Her clothes were soaked through, her hair was dripping wet down her back, and her teeth chattered both out of fear and the cold weather that had followed the rain into the area.

  She closed her eyes and tried to visualize herself in Jace's arms, the smell of coffee and sea in the air, soft hair tickling her chest, and warm lips trying to find freckles numbers fifteen and sixteen. But then a memory from the scene at his house earlier that morning flashed before her eyes, and her body instinctively turned away from the house. She must have been standing there for fifteen minutes, willing her feet to stay put and not run.

  Enough running.

  She then heard Jace's voice call out to her in a panic. He appeared in her line of vision a few seconds later, his white T-shirt and black pants drenched, his hands forcing his hair back and off his eyes. "Where…what…are you…" he said, raindrops running down his face and into his mouth.

  She could feel Jace's eyes on her, but she couldn't bear looking up at him. The rain started letting up, and she could now hear as the drumming of her heart accelerated.

  "Nothing happened with Chloe," he finally said, and Aislynn finally took in the breath she had been holding since he had found her. She felt her lungs expand back up like an old, dried up sponge falling into warm water. Her mouth, on the other hand, was sealed shut, mostly out of fear for the things she knew she needed to say once she opened it.

  A thousand words of explanation. I owe him that.

  "I was confused when you showed up at the house because I thought you already knew Chloe was there," he continued. "I didn't realize you had never gotten my message last night. I would've explained everything to you, but you didn't even give me a chance. What the hell was that about, Aislynn? Why did you run away like that?" he asked.

  He's angry. Good.

  "Are you going to say anything?" he pressed, and Aislynn's face fell. Still, she couldn't find her voice. "Is this about your ex? Is this you trying to put whatever shit he did to you onto me?"

  Ouch. But, in a way, yes I am. And it's wrong. So wrong.

  "And please don't pull the whole 'I don't know why he broke up with me before the wedding' bullshit. I can tell there's more to that story and that you know perfectly well what happened. I've been open and honest with you. I've given you as much space and time as I have to offer, but if this is going to keep coming between us, then I need to know. This is it, Aislynn. It's time."

  You're right. It's time.

  "What the hell did he do to you?" he asked once again.

  Just tell him. Do it!

  Aislynn covered her face with her hands and shook her head from side to side, trying to somehow shake off her inability to speak.

  "Just tell me," he said, frustrated. "What? Did he get cold feet? Cheat on you? Did he fall in love with someone else?"

  "Not like this, Jace. I don't want to hurt you, please," Aislynn cried.

  "Tell me!"

  "He died," she said and sobbed.

  Jace instinctively took a step toward her and gasped, his eyes glued to her face. "Wha…what?"

  "He's dead," she repeated, the acid from her stomach burning the back of her throat.

  "Oh, no," he whispered. "Aislynn, I'm so—"

  "Don't!" she said, and held her palm up. "Please, just…I need to…" Aislynn forced several deep breaths in and pushed her hair away from her face, tugging at it with more force than necessary, but craving the pain. It was a reminder that she was still real and alive. "There's so much more, and it's so hard for me to do this."

  Jace took her hand, walked her over to the deck, and sat down in the lounger. Aislynn paced in front of him, her arms wrapped around her center, feeling like her insides were being ripped apart. He didn't say anything; he didn't rush her. He just waited her out. Again.

  The first few words are the hardest. Come on.

  "I was at the hospital, rounding on a few of my coworker's patients while he was on vacation, when I got the call. They said Christopher had been in a car accident and that he was downstairs in the trauma bay. They didn't have to say anything else—I immediately knew. By the time I got down to the ER, he was gone," Aislynn said, unable to look at Jace.

  "He was so…broken. I wish I could go back to that moment, right before I went into that room. I should've never walked in there. I don't want to remember him like that anymore."

  "Jesus…" Jace said under his breath.

  "I was the one who had to tell his parents, my mom, all his friends, even his business partner. I was the one who took care of the funeral and cancelled all the wedding arrangements…but I don't remember any of it. I have no memory of it at all.

  "I finally woke up from the daze a few weeks later. I hadn't been answering the phone or leaving the apartment. I wasn't eating, or sleeping, or taking care of myself, so Ellie threatened to come back to get me. I wish I could say that was what made me snap out of it, but it really wasn't. I just really didn't want to deal with anyone yet at that point. So I got myself up, cleaned the house, got together some of the personal items Christopher's parents had asked for, and started going through all the mail that had accumulated in those few weeks."

  Aislynn's pulse spiked once again and the beats of her heart pounded so fiercely in her throat that she felt like she was choking. Her eyesight became blurred, the tears in her eyes making it look like she was staring out the windshield of a car in the middle of a rainstorm.

  "I found a letter in the mail…from him," she said, the pressure in her chest unbearable.

  "Oh, holy shit," Jace said, suddenly understanding where she was going with this.

  "The police did the investigation after the crash and they ruled it an accident. Christopher’s car had hit the medium, he overcorrected to try and avoid the other cars, and ended up driving through the side rail and down the cliff. But the letter—" she stopped, her sobs getting stuck in her throat. "I was his fiancée. I lived with him. I loved him. I was about to marry him, for God's sakes, and I didn't see it! I mean, what kind of psychiatrist doesn't see that her own fiancé is depressed and suicidal? I…I just…I couldn't save him!"

  Aislynn wept for a long while, letting out tears she had held back for a year. Jace's arms wrapped around her and rocked her.

  "Shhh…It's okay, babydoc. Shhh…" he repeated in her ear over and over.

  His voice became the one thing that kept her tied to the pr
esent. He eventually guided her back into the house and put her in the shower, the water almost scalding hot. She hadn't realized until then that she had been freezing, blood suddenly recirculating back to the tip of her fingers and nose and making them burn. He got in the shower with her until they both warmed up enough.

  "Here, you can wear this," Jace said, and handed her a white terrycloth bathrobe as Aislynn stared at it questioningly. "I got it for you at the hotel in Portland," he explained.

  "Thanks," she said and hugged him, his skin so much warmer than hers. She was momentarily lulled by the sound of his heart thumping away in his chest.

  They walked out into the living room, and Jace set out two glasses of scotch on the coffee table. "I realize it's early for this, but I think we both need it," he said as he poured an inch of the amber liquid into each glass.

  Aislynn took a sip, painfully aware of how much her throat burned. She hadn't eaten anything in the last eighteen hours, and drinking too much was out of the question. She pulled her legs to her body and wrapped her arms around it, resting her chin on her knees.

  "Jace?"

  "I'm here," he said, gently running his fingers through the wet strands of her hair with his free hand.

  "I…I haven't told anyone else about this. You’re the only one that knows," Aislynn finally said, her eyes locked on the bottle of scotch sitting before her. His hand abruptly stopped moving.

  "What? Why haven’t you told anyone?" he said with curiosity, but without a hint of accusation in his voice.

  "Because fuck him, that's why," she said with palpable anger. "He killed himself and then left me alone to deal with it all. He should've known how much losing him would hurt me, but most of all he should've know how this was going to mess with my head." Aislynn felt the anger rise up in her chest like boiling milk about to spill over.

  "My brain can understand that he was sick, and that he wasn't in a place where he could process and reason logically, but my heart feels otherwise," she continued. "I couldn't mourn him properly. My pain went from being about his loss to being about the guilt.