Between These Sheets

by Devon McCormack

  And so hurt.

  It’s like his response was designed to hurt me, and the shock of his words unleashes my own defenses: “You’re a fucking asshole.”

  I hurry past him, tears welling in my eyes. I don’t want him to see how he’s affected me. I need to get out of here.

  I head into the bedroom, throw the letter from Reese’s ex-wife on the bed, and collect my clothes from the closet and the dresser before placing them on the mattress beside it.

  It feels worse than when Kyle cheated on me. Maybe because I was stupid enough to let someone back in. Opened myself up to be hurt like that.

  I keep waiting for him to come in and apologize. To say that he’s sorry. But the man out there isn’t the man I thought I was falling for.

  How could he say that? How could he throw us away?

  I want to believe it’s just this breakdown he’s having, but I can’t.

  Maybe he wasn’t even dwelling on the war. Maybe he was just sitting in there, stewing over us and how he realized I’m not the man he wants to be with.

  After I grab some of my belongings from the bathroom, I collect my clothes in one big scoop off the bed and head back into the living room.

  Reese sits on the couch, facing away from me.

  Doesn’t even have the balls to face me after what a dick he just was.

  I think about saying goodbye to him, but that’s more than he deserves from me now.

  I head out the door, but something stops me. “Goodbye, Reese,” I say, not because I want to, but because I have to. Because I need the closure.

  I leave, and the moment I close the door behind me, the tears flow freely.

  I hurry to the car and throw my stuff inside.

  None of this feels real. How could we have spent so much time together, gotten so far, for it to end like this?

  How could we have gotten so far for it all to come crashing down in a day?

  It doesn’t matter. I just have to get out of here. I have to get far away. I have to leave all this behind and forget all about Reese.

  Even though I know I never really will.

  I burst into tears and collapse onto the steering wheel.

  I fucking love him. How could he do this to me? Why doesn’t he want to be with me?

  37

  Reese

  What have I done?

  The physical pain I’m experiencing is more acute than ever.

  Why did he say he loves me?

  I love him too, but it didn’t make what I had to do any easier.

  I kept fighting doing the right thing.

  But when he came out of the bedroom, I knew I had to find a way to get rid of him.

  I had to save him from the hurt.

  I was awful to him. Terrible, but I had to be. I had to make him feel like I was a bastard for not believing in him to get him to leave because if I’d just said that I didn’t want to hurt him, he would have stayed. He would have convinced me that we could get through it, and I know where that leads. I had that same discussion with Melanie so many times before the end. And even if he was willing to suffer, I’m not willing to watch him become an empty person because of who I’ve become.

  He may think I’m a terrible person forever for how I just treated him, but I would have been a selfish monster to keep him here any longer when I know how the story ends. When I’ve already played it out once before.

  Now he’ll run. That’s who he is, but I have to believe he would have done that anyway. Once it all fell apart. At least now he still has life in his body. At least I haven’t totally destroyed him the way I could have.

  Running is what he knows. Running is what he’s good at. He’s a survivor.

  But that doesn’t make me feel better about how far I let it get.

  I knew this was on the horizon. That the darkness would return. But I entertained the fantasy that he could make me better. I wanted to believe we could push through, but after the despair of this latest encounter crippled me, I knew better. I believed the same thing with her. With my poor, beautiful Melanie who I sucked the life out of.

  This isn’t a battle I’ll ever win. No one wins with PTSD. And as much as I tried to convince myself that we could fight together, if it was that easy, Melanie never would have gotten so hurt.

  I never would have ruined her life.

  I promised myself I would never hurt anyone the way I hurt her.

  He’ll never know, but I didn’t do this because I don’t care about him or because I didn’t believe in him. I did it because I care about him so much and can’t bear the thought of wrecking his life.

  Why did you leave, Jay?

  The thought lingers even though I know the answer.

  No, Jay. You deserve better than this life. So much better.

  I sit in silence, reeling in the physical pain from the horrible reminder that Melanie’s letter awoke within me. Still struggling with the powerful anxiety that’s crippled me—the anxiety I had to fight with my everything to find the energy—the will—to stand up and help Jay get out of my life forever.

  This isn’t his fight.

  I lie back down on the couch, waiting for the pain to subside. But after what just happened, the intensity and excitement of it all, that’s not likely. I might even have to call out of work tomorrow and just lie right here.

  Fuck me. Fuck me to hell.

  I can’t have happiness. Not like other people. I’m not kidding myself anymore.

  This is my life. This is all I can hope for. The silence. Utter loneliness and despair.

  I’m so sorry, Jay. I’m so sorry, Melanie.

  At least I had a moment with him—a beautiful moment where the pain was dull and the pleasure so powerful. At least in more lucid moments I’ll be able to cling onto that the way I once clung onto Jay’s body.

  38

  Jay

  I push my bedroom door open. I have to start packing.

  I’m outta here.

  How could Reese say that to me?

  The other night, I could have sworn as we looked into each other’s eyes, we felt the same way for each other. That he was just on the brink of telling me how much more he felt for me.

  Was I so wrong?

  And then on top of that to tell me that I’m not strong enough. That I’m just going to leave him.

  How can he think that little of me?

  It doesn’t matter. I need to erase him from my mind. Tomorrow, I’m getting the fuck out of town. I’m heading to Chicago. That was always the plan anyway. I knew I’d have to move on at some point.

  God, how stupid could I have been for fucking with the boss? Now I don’t have any choice but to leave.

  I can’t ever show my face back at the factory.

  Right when I finally find a reason to change—a reason to settle down—everything goes to shit.

  I don’t want to run. I’m so tired of always running.

  I pack my duffle bag with as much shit as I can, take it out to the car, and shove it in the back seat. I return to the house and keep grabbing things, making a pile in the middle of the room.

  At least I don’t have much. My nomadic lifestyle makes it so easy for me to move on again.

  I grab a pile of clothes and carry it out to the car.

  Gotta go. Always gotta go.

  I throw it in the passenger’s seat with the other crap I grabbed from Reese’s house. I try to close the door, but it jams on some of the clothes that are starting to fall out. I open it back up and move some shit around when I notice an envelope in the clothes that I piled in here from Reese’s place.

  It’s the letter from his ex-wife.

  I must have snatched it by accident with the clothes after I set that stuff on the bed.

  This is what Reese is running from. His past. He can never escape it. It’s always there. Whether it’s a memory creeping into his thoughts while he sleeps or a letter from a woman who loved him, no matter what he does, it’s always there.

  I’m no differe
nt.

  No matter where I go. No matter how hard I try to escape the pain, it’s always there. Following me. It chases me, not in the way that Reese’s demons haunt him, but in its own twisted way.

  What’s going to happen if I change the city one more time? Change of faces. Change of names. Change of jobs. But there will still be pain. There’s always pain. That’s what Reese has learned too.

  I gaze at my stuff, piled up in the passenger’s seat. Not even in a box or suitcase.

  It’s a great symbol of what my life really is. Messy, jumbled, chaotic.

  Do I really want to head up to Chicago only to find myself running into this same fate?

  I could do it so easily, but I don’t want to. I’m tired.

  I glance back at the house.

  Charlie stands in the doorway. He doesn’t have that playful expression on his face—the one I’m accustomed to.

  “Want to talk about it?” he asks as he walks down the porch steps and approaches me.

  He glances into the car.

  “Man troubles?”

  “Not really troubles. It’s over.”

  “I know you probably don’t want an old man butting into your life, but that’s what I’m about to do.”

  “Won’t matter. He doesn’t want me.”

  “I saw the way he was ogling you when you boys were here. And I know the difference between a man who’s smitten and a man who…wants more than just to fuck around. Maybe I wasn’t always good at sensing it with the guys I was with, but I can sense it with others. That man cares about you.”

  “Whatever,” I say. But I want to believe him, and considering everything we’ve been through, it’s hard for me not to.

  “A fight is just a fight. It doesn’t have to be the end,” he says.

  It reminds me of what Reese said about not running.

  Maybe this is the demon I have to confront.

  He sets his hand on my shoulder. “You okay?” he asks.

  I shake my head as my chin quivers. “Not really.”

  “Let’s have some tea,” he suggests. “Just chat with an old man for a bit. You don’t have to leave right now.”

  “Thank you, Charlie.”

  He leads me back inside, and I tell him about everything that’s happened between us. I share how I feel about Reese and how I thought he felt about me. About Reese’s past, and then about our confrontation tonight. When I’m finished, Charlie says, “Well, here’s some more unsolicited advice. He’s been through hell and back. And now he’s got this guy who he’s getting serious with, who’s pulling him out of his comfort zone, and he’s scared as fuck of fucking up your life with his PTSD. Think about if you were getting into a relationship with someone who had cancer. You think they’d be eager to let you sign on while they had to endure treatments and basically put you through hell while they were dealing with it? That’s what we’re talking about here.”

  “It’s more than that. He doesn’t believe I can handle it. He knows how I live my life, and he thinks I’m gonna run.”

  “He was having an episode. I’m sure it felt painful when you opened up to him and told him you love him, but you deserve to talk to him about this again. Not just what he said in the middle of the worst of it.”

  He’s right. I know he is.

  “You can run off now and never know the truth. Go ahead. Prove him right. I know you’re scared he might really not feel the way you feel, but do you want to spend the rest of your life wondering what might have happened if you’d stuck around to fight for him? He expects you to run, but if you stay, you can show him that this is important to you. That he’s important to you.”

  “I don’t want to run again,” I admit. “I don’t know what good it’ll really do me. It’s always the same story everywhere I go. Until I met him, that is. I can’t keep living like that.”

  “So you’re willing to work for the man who broke your heart? Even if he decides that he doesn’t want you?”

  “Yeah. I can’t live like that anymore. If Reese wants me gone, he’s going to have to find a way to fire me.”

  “That’s the spirit, kid,” he says with a wink.

  Although just thinking about facing him again makes the tears pour from my eyes. God, I just know I’m going to lose it in front of him.

  Charlie heads to bed, and I unpack my car, putting everything back in my room. Then I take the letter from Melanie and set it on my desk.

  I’ll give this back to him tomorrow. Can’t wait to see the fucking look on his face when he sees me and has to deal with this letter all over again. And when he realizes I’m not the kid he thought would just run at the first sign of trouble. That I’m bigger than that now. Although he’s the reason for that. He’s made me better in so many ways, and even if he doesn’t want me, I have to give him credit for that.

  I lie in bed. It’s going to be a lonely night. The loneliest night I’ve had in a while.

  I’m used to him holding me. Used to the occasional kisses on my forehead right before he drifts off.

  Mad as I am, I keep replaying our time together over and over again in my head.

  The laughs. The pleasure. The connection.

  I wasn’t imagining it. Mean as he was tonight, I can’t believe that he really meant it.

  When I got home, he was cold and distant. That letter set him off. Made him think about his marriage to Melanie.

  I’m half-tempted to open it just to pry, but I’m not going to disrespect him like that.

  He said she left him because of how distant he became, and she couldn’t handle it anymore.

  Is he afraid that if we really let this turn into something, I’ll do the same thing?

  He doesn’t understand how I feel. I don’t give a shit about the episodes. Even not seeing a fucking show tonight. Does he think I would just leave him when it got hard? Abandon him?

  As I dwell on his motives, I’m pissed that I left. I should have fucking stayed and duked it out with him.

  It was my fight-or-flight response. And damn, am I ever good at flying.

  It was just so hard to face his rejection. God, I nearly shut down when he pushed me away.

  I remind myself of how much pain he was in when I got home. There’s more to this than he’s letting on, and like Charlie said, I deserve an answer. A real answer.

  39

  Reese

  I feel like shit as I stand in my office, the tension lingering from my panic attack yesterday. It wasn’t so bad that I couldn’t get out of bed today. I pushed myself to come in to work because I knew I needed the distraction. But it was nearly impossible to get out the door. I even had to fucking take an Uber just to get here. I didn’t have the strength to drive. It’s not as bad as I feared, but it’s bad enough that I’m glad I did what I did. That I saved Jay.

  The door to my office opens, and Jay storms in.

  Fuck, he’s here? What the hell?

  I would’ve sworn after our fight that he would take off. It kept me up most of the night, as I considered calling him again and again, apologizing for what an asshole I’d been. Begging him to take me back. But what I did wasn’t to make me feel better.

  It’s to make his life easier.

  As I stand up from my desk, he approaches quickly, as though he’s about to punch me. The veins in his neck push forward. His face is bright red. His hair curls naturally, revealing how little he did to it this morning, reminding me of all those mornings when he let it fall naturally rather than gelling it.

  He throws a letter down on my desk.

  Melanie’s letter.

  I didn’t find it last night after he left, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t interested in reading it anyway.

  “I want you to fucking tell me what’s really going on,” he says.

  “We don’t have anything else to talk about.”

  “I call bullshit on everything you said last night. Really? A letter comes from the ex-wife who left you, you freak out over a panic attack and then try to spi
n it around like the reason you want out is because you believe I’ll run when things get hard. I’ve been replaying everything that’s been going on between us over and over again in my head, and unless you were one hell of a fucking actor all this time, I’m not the only one falling in love here.”

  Shit. It’s even worse than I thought.

  “Jay—” I begin. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this. I had the strength to get rid of him once. I was hoping that’s all I would need strength for.

  “I’m not done talking. Now you be honest with me right now, and tell me what this is really about. Do you really think that I would leave you like your ex-wife? Do you think that I’m that kind of guy?”

  He breathes intensely, as though he just used up an inordinate amount of strength saying that.

  Goddammit.

  Time for the truth.

  “Jay, I didn’t think you’d be like my ex-wife because you’d leave. I thought you’d be like her because you’d stay.”

  All his defensiveness. His anger. His tension—dissolves. I’ve thrown him. Totally dismantled the only argument that he’d prepared for.

  “You don’t know what it’s like to watch someone you care about, someone who was so happy, filled with life, disappear. She used to bounce around at parties. She was the girl who would make everyone laugh. That’s how I fell for her. I was at a friend’s place. There were about twenty people there, and she came up to me and said, ‘You’re cute. Mind giving me a ride?’ I told her I didn’t bring a car. She was like, ‘Who said anything about a car?’”

  I can’t help but laugh even now about how forward she was. How bold.

  “Throughout college, we would go to every party, and she was known for this loud, powerful laugh. When people heard it, they would just be captivated. It enchanted them. Made them think, ‘Who the fuck is this girl and how is she so fucking happy?’ And we were happy together. I honestly didn’t know that it was possible to be that happy with another human being, but when I was with her, everything was magic. She was a vision. And everything I wanted at the time. But when I got back from Iraq, all I could see was darkness. And no amount of magic could save me from what I’d become. Day in and day out, I watched as the woman I loved tried to reach me. She did everything she could. And after Caleb died…after he killed himself…I realized it was just getting worse.