by J. L. Perry
I came to the studio last night because I was sick of feeling numb inside. I just wanted to feel something, anything. Dancing has always been healing to me. I don’t want to live like this anymore, if you can even call what I have been doing living. It is more like just existing.
What I am doing is tearing my family apart, and that is the last thing I want. Hurting the people I love and who love me in return is hard. I’m just not sure how I can get past the guilt I am feeling. Being responsible for someone’s death isn’t an easy thing with which to live. Especially Chris—he was only trying to help me that day. He didn’t deserve to die like that. His mother has been on my mind a lot over past few weeks, too. Chris was all she had. I really want to ask Logan how she is doing, but part of me knows I can’t handle the answer. I am still too fragile.
Logan must have felt me moving because he kisses my forehead. “How are you feeling, baby?” I still can’t bring myself to look at him. I want to answer him, but the words just won’t come out.
Fuck, why can’t I just snap out of this funk I am in?
He shifts me so my head is now on the pillow, and he is facing me. He puts his finger under my chin and lifts up my face so I am now looking at him. I want to close my eyes, but I can’t be that mean to him. God, what is wrong with me? He doesn’t deserve the way I’ve been treating him.
“I refuse to let you shut me out anymore,” he says in a calm voice. “I need to know if you are going to be okay. I need to know if we are going to be okay. I miss you so fucking much. I need you to come back to me, Brooke. Angel needs her mother, too. I want us to be a proper family. We are supposed to be a team, babe. There is nothing that we can’t get through. We just need to work together, like we always have. I am so fucking worried about you.” He sighs again. “I’m so worried about us.”
I can feel my eyes filling up with tears again as I stare into his beautiful, sad green eyes. I have missed his eyes so much. I’ve missed everything about him. Everything he says is true, but I just don’t know if I can get past this. I want to talk to him, but I am scared that he will blame me for Chris’ death. If I hadn’t been so stubborn that day and just got in the damn car when he asked me to, none of this would have happened. We would have been back from the shops and nowhere near that drunk driver.
It was also my fault that Chris wasn’t wearing his seatbelt. He had taken it off to help me into the car and must have forgotten to put it back on.
He leans in and places a soft kiss on my lips. It is nice to feel his lips on mine again. I’ve missed everything we used to have, but I am scared if he finds out the truth, I will lose him forever.
“Please, baby,” he pleads. “Let me in.” He doesn’t say anything else. He just stares at me, waiting for me to say something.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
He rolls onto his back and sighs. His fingers run through his hair as he stares at the ceiling. Logan is angry with me. I can tell. I just shut him out again. God, I am such a bitch.
After a few minutes, he gets up. My refusal to talk is really getting to him. He stands with his back to me. Again he runs his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he says in a defeated tone. “If you won’t talk to me, you need to find someone you can talk to.” I hear him sigh again as he leaves the room without another word. I listen to him walk down the stairs. I am willing him to come back, then I hear the front door slam shut.
****
Logan
I feel like a piece of crap walking out on her like that, but I don’t have a choice. I need to get away from her before I say something I am going to regret. She is fragile right now. Honestly, I feel like screaming at her, but that is the last thing she needs.
My faith in her and faith in what we had once shared is dwindling. I don’t want to lose trust in her, but by shutting me out and keeping me at a distance, it’s making it hard not to. I want her to care enough to stand up and fight for us. I need to know we are going to be okay, but her actions only confuse me.
Every fibre in my being wants to go back upstairs and talk to her, but there is no use because I know she won’t talk to me. I hate leaving her alone when she is like this, but there is no point in being there if she isn’t going to even try to open up to me. I pull out my phone and call her father. I need to go and get Angel from my mother’s, and Brooke will need a lift home. Michelle and Craig took my car back to my mums last night, so I’m going to have to use Brooke’s car to get back there. Thankfully, I have her spare key on my key ring.
I wait outside for her father to arrive. When he pulls up, he immediately asks, “Is everything alright?” I shake my head. What else can I do? I tell him about last night, and explain that Brooke is still upstairs.
“She still won’t talk to me,” I say in anger. “And, frankly, I’ve had enough. I just need to get away from her for a while. I’m going to get Angel from mums. I was wondering if you could give her a lift home.”
He put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t give up on her just yet, kiddo,” he pleads. “What you two have is special and worth fighting for. You’ve both experienced more hardship in the short time that you have been together than most couples face in a lifetime.”
“I know,” I reply with a sigh. “But she is the one giving up on us, not me. I love her more than life. She means everything to me. I don’t know if I can survive without her, but I can’t just sit around and watch her do this anymore. It’s killing me.”
My uncle pulls me into him and gives me hug. “Go and get your daughter while I try and talk some sense into mine.” I nod as I make my way to Brooke’s car.
“I am going to spend the day at my mum’s,” I reply over my shoulder. “She probably won’t care, but tell her I will be home later.”
****
Brooke
When Logan walks out and leaves me, the floodgates open again. I am angry at myself for doing this to him, but I don’t know how to get around it without telling him the truth. I want things to go back to the way they were, but I’m not sure that is even possible anymore. The longer I go without talking to people, the more I bottle everything up inside me, the further I seem to fall into this dark bottomless pit that has become my life. I’m not sure if I am strong enough to pull myself out of it.
I hear someone coming up the steps so I sit up before quickly wiping the tears from my eyes. I am so sick of crying, and I don’t want Logan to see me like this anymore. I want to try and give him something. The pain in my heart is too much to bear. I just want to stop hurting myself, and to stop hurting him.
When my father walks into the room, my heart drops. Not that I’m not glad to see him, but I was expecting Logan. It just makes me realise that I’ve finally pushed him too far. He is obviously sick of me and my bullshit. Frankly, I am sick of me, too.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says as he comes and sits down on the side of the bed.
“Hi, Dad,” I reply sadly. He grabs hold of my hand and squeezes it. “Where is Logan?”
“He went to go pick up Angel from his mum’s.”
I feel terrible. Logan and Angel are all I’d ever wanted in life. I am so lucky to have a wonderful, supportive husband and a beautiful daughter. I don’t deserve them. Since I came out of my coma, I have been a shitty wife and mother. It is a hard pill to swallow.
“I think we need to have a little talk,” he says and I nod. I’m not sure what I am going to say to him, but Logan was right. I need to talk to someone. Keeping this bottled up inside is eating away at me and it’s not only destroying my marriage, it’s destroying me.
My father runs his hand down the side of my face. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he whispers.
“Oh, Dad,” I cry. I throw my arms around his neck and start sobbing.
He holds me tightly for a few minutes before pulling back from me. “You need to get it out, sweetheart,” he says. “It is breaking my heart to see you like this.” I move to the side of the bed and sit next to h
im. After taking a deep breath, I decide to just let it all out. There is no other way.
“It is all my fault that Chris is dead,” I sob. As much as I don’t want to say it, it feels good to finally get that off my chest.
My father looks at me, surprised. “How could you possibly think that?” he asks in a shocked tone.
“I remember everything that happened that day,” I whisper.
“Honey, I can’t believe you would think that,” he says, wrapping his arm around me. “You had no control over what happened. You didn’t make that driver drink and get behind the wheel. You didn’t make him drive through a red light. How could you possibly think that it is your fault?” I sit there, looking at him. He has a point. I understand what he is trying to say, but the fact is that if I’d just gotten in the car straight away, we wouldn’t have been anywhere near that drunk driver. Better still, if I had just waited for Logan to bring me home the ice cream, we wouldn’t have even been in the car at all.
I decide to tell him the whole story. Everything I have dreamed…everything I can remember. I’ve had that same nightmare every day since I found out about Chris’ death. Once I finish explaining everything, he pulls me into his arms again.
“Honey, it was an accident,” he says. “Granted, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it was totally out of your control. What I don’t understand is why you feel like you can’t talk to Logan about this.”
“Because he will hate me. I’m the reason his friend is dead.”
“If that is what you really believe, I think you seriously underestimate your husband and his love for you. You need to talk to him, Brooke. He is suffering. If you could have seen what he went through when you were in a coma, sweetheart, you wouldn’t be putting him through this. It was hard for all of us, but especially him. His love for you is unconditional. He won’t blame you for this because it…wasn’t…your…fault.”
“Do you really think that?” I ask. The truth is that I’m not thinking straight. I really don’t know what to think anymore.
“I can practically guarantee it. Listen, Logan is spending the day at his mum’s. Why don’t you jump in the shower and we can go over there so you can talk to him. I know that he would be happy to see you. He misses you, sweetheart. We all do.”
I nod. Before I stand up, I have one more thing I want to say. “What I really don’t understand is why Angel and I survived, but Chris didn’t. That is the hardest thing to comprehend. He was a good person. He didn’t deserve to die like that.”
My father looks at me and shrugs. “I wish I could answer that for you. I guess it’s just fate. It’s just the way it was meant to be, I suppose. Thankfully, I am extremely glad you both survived. God obviously had other plans for Chris. It’s just part of life, sweetheart. You of all people know how cruel life can be sometimes.”
“I guess you’re right,” I reply with a sigh.
He puts his arms around me and kisses my cheek. “I am sorry you had to go through all of this, sweetheart. You have been through far too much trauma for someone so young. But you are stronger than you think, and I know you can get through this. You can lie down and let this grief consume you, or you can stand up and face it head on. I know you can do this. You have proved it so many times in the past. Everybody has problems, but you’ve been dealt more than most, and you have never let it pull you down before. You have always gotten back up and fought. I am so proud of you, Brooke, and I love you so much. I know you can get past this.”
“I love you, too, Dad,” I whisper. His words make me well up again. “And thank you.”
We hug for a few minutes, then he says, “Okay, I’m going downstairs to make us some coffee while you shower.”
I get up off the bed and grab some clothes out of the drawer. I keep spare clothes here, just in case. I am apprehensive about talking to Logan, but I have put it off for too long. I need to tell him the truth. It is the only way. I want us to be the way we were before the accident.
Once I am showered and dressed, I make my way downstairs.
CHAPT
ER TWELVE
Logan
I am sitting in the kitchen feeding Angel. Mum had tried to talk me into going back home to talk to Brooke, but I can’t. Facing that shit today is something I don’t want to do. After finding her last night, I really thought that she would open up to me. It was the first sign of hope I’d had since she came home from the hospital. After the way she acted this morning, though, I feel like we are back to square one.
The front doorbell rings, but I don’t even move. The last thing I want is to see or talk to anyone. I hear my mum yell out that she will get it. She sat with me earlier, but after not getting much conversation out of me, I think she came to the conclusion that I wanted to be left alone.
I am so torn up inside. Just a few short months ago, I had been happier than I had ever been in my life. Now my life is turned upside-down. My marriage is falling apart and I am slowly losing the women I love more than anything in this world.
I hear my uncle’s voice. He must have taken Brooke home already. He probably came over here to talk to me and see if I am alright. I know that he is worried about me. Hell, I’m worried about me. I need to keep it together because Angel needs me.
I wonder how Brooke is doing, but part of me really doesn’t want to know. After this morning, I’ve given up hope. My mum comes into the kitchen, a smile on her face. I wish I could return the smile, but I can’t. Not even my little girl can bring out a smile from me today. “You have a visitor,” my mum says. I look up expecting to see my uncle, but am surprised to see Brooke standing there.
I don’t say anything because, frankly, I am stunned. She is the last person I expect to see standing there. My mum comes over and takes Angel from me. “I think you two need to talk,” she says. “So I will take my beautiful granddaughter and give you both some time.”
I am still sitting at the table, staring at Brooke. My body won’t move. Part of me wants to go to her, but the other part can’t take another rejection. Her eyes don’t leave mine. The look on her face breaks my heart.
I don’t know how long we stay like that. I don’t know what to say to her, so I don’t say anything. Over the past few weeks, I have done all the talking. It is her turn now.
After a few minutes, she gives me a small smile. It is a nervous smile, but is a smile nevertheless. It is the first time she has smiled in weeks. I feel my heart start to beat out of my chest. I am scared of what she is going to say, but also scared that things between us will never be the same.
I stand up from the table and face her. She takes a few steps towards me and, before I know it, she is wrapped in my arms. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. Apart from “I can’t”, which is what she said to me this morning, this is the first thing she has said in weeks.
I take a step back. I want to look at her beautiful face. I feel like I haven’t seen her in weeks. Every time I’ve been around her lately, she would turn away from me or put her head down and not look at me.
She looks tired, pale, and way too thin. She has always been thin, but she’s hardly eaten since the accident and has lost a lot of weight. Her eyes still look sad, and she has dark circles underneath them. She is still beautiful, but different. I don’t know how to explain it. She also looks scared and frightened, which makes my chest hurt.
I pull her back into my arms. I am just so happy to be holding her again. “I’ve missed you so much,” I whisper.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she replies.
“Why are you here?” I am hoping she is ready to talk, but I want to hear her say it.
“I want my family back,” she whispers. “I want us to be the way we used to be.”
Fuck, I want that, too, more than anything.
“If that’s what you want,” I reply, “you need to open up and stop shutting me out.”
She takes a step back and looks up at me. “I want to open up to you,” she says. “I am just scar
ed when you hear what I have to say… I don’t know. I am worried I’m going to lose you.”
I put both my hands on either side of her face. “I love you, baby, so fucking much,” I assure her. “There is nothing you can say to me that will change that.”
Brooke’s eyes fill with tears. I don’t want to see her cry because she has cried enough. Hesitantly, because I don’t know how she’ll react, I put my lips on hers. I’ve been dying to feel her lips on mine again. I have missed our physical contact more than anything. I meant for it to be a small kiss, but when she wraps her arms around my waist and opens her mouth, I can’t help myself and I deepen it.
Fuck, I need this so much…I need her so much.
I don’t know how long we stand like this because we are lost in each other. It has been too long. I have been craving this—craving her. It feels like all the uncertainty I’ve been feeling about us lately is melting away. She is coming back to me. I can feel it in the way she kisses me, the way her body responds to mine. All the passion she once had for me is still there. I couldn’t have been happier.
I move my hands from her face and slowly run them down her arms. I cup her arse in my hands, pulling her tighter against my erection. I hear that sexy little moan of hers. The one that turns me on so much. The one I’ve missed hearing. At one time, I wondered if I would ever hear that sound again.
Fuck, I want her so much. It has been nearly two months since we have made love. I need to have that connection with her again. It’s like my life depends on it.
“I want you so much,” I whisper into her mouth. “Let me take you home, baby.”
She breaks our kiss and looks up at me, her lips red and swollen from our kiss. “I want you, too,” she says with a shy smile, “but I need to talk to you first.” Fuck, I am so horny because I’ve never gone so long without sex before. I don’t really want to talk, but I need to let her say what she needs to say. Fuck, I want her to say it before she changes her mind and shuts me out again.