by Bree Dahlia
I care for his hands until I’m convinced they look worse than they are and help him in the shower. I thought I’d seen all facets of him, both the wonderful and the ugly, but this side is so far removed from what I’ve experienced. His heart, his love for me that I used to see on a daily basis. Even his blind anger, while not targeted at me before the house, was still present at times. But this neediness? Never. It’s so out of his realm, I can’t even wrap my head around it.
He gets out of the shower, not appearing to have any further outward injuries, but I can’t attest to whether or not he banged his head. There’re no marks, but after telling me profusely how he’s not good enough for me, I’m not sure what to think. This coming from a man who not twenty-four hours before used my body and then stabbed me in the heart by calling me a spoiled brat who contributes nothing to our marriage.
“Can I get you something to eat, drink?” He shakes his head. “You should at least have some water.”
“I think I’m just going to lie down.”
I walk with him to the bedroom, unsure what to do next. I try to recall what I learned about concussions after Jake got one playing football.
Jake. Fuck. Focus. Deep breath. Okay, on the off chance that Cain has one, he shouldn’t sleep more than a couple hours at a time.
He gets in bed and lies on top of the sheet. I leave to get him a huge glass of water, returning with a flashlight.
“Drink.” I hand it to him. “And let me look at your eyes.” I shine the light in his face.
“I’m fine.” He sets the glass on the nightstand.
“Humor me.”
He does, and I see no evidence of dilated or unequal pupils, but what do I know? I’m not a fucking doctor. I sit on the edge of the bed, feeling like I was plunged into an alternate reality.
“I don’t deserve this after the way I treated you.”
He rolls over, and I remain frozen in place until I hear his breaths grow heavier. Then I go downstairs. It’s barely afternoon, but I pour myself a healthy portion of wine, wishing it were vodka instead.
As I sip, I go through insurance crap, finding the nurse hotline. I take my wine, the number, and my phone to the love seat, polishing off the full glass while waiting on hold. By the time I’m finished talking with someone, even though I get the mandatory disclaimer, “He should come in to be sure,” I feel better. To an extent.
The sun is just beginning to drop when I finally plop down for the night, mentally exhausted after spending the day checking on Cain and battling my clashing thoughts.
I smile when the text comes in.
This morning meant everything to me.
It did to me too.
I feel like a monster.
I set the toy truck aside and go back to my cleaning. Obviously it was Cain’s as a child. I knew it would take the better part of my Sunday to get this room presentable, but I didn’t know the half of it. I can dust and sweep and vacuum, but I’m not a damn carpenter.
The creak of the stairs gives me an excuse for a break. This is the first time Cain’s been down after crashing hard like he ran a marathon. I grab the truck and go out to see him.
“How’re you feeling?”
He scrubs his hands over his face and yawns. “Tired.”
“Can I make you anything? There’s some pizza I can heat up. Or soup—”
“Not hungry.” He pulls a water from the fridge. “Just thirsty.” He cracks it open and downs it in one go.
“Look what I found while cleaning.” I set the dented red truck on the island. “It was inside the wall, whatever that area was you demolished.”
He zeroes in on it, then turns his head. “You shouldn’t even be in there. It’s not safe with all the nails and shit lying around.”
I shrug. “I figured since you were sleeping, I could at least get a start on it.” I drum my fingers on my lips. “It’s pretty bad in there. What were you trying to accomplish anyway?”
“It’s an old house, Maddie.” He massages his temples. “Everything looks bad.”
“Um, no….”
“I’m going back upstairs.” He pushes from the table. “I gotta get rid of this headache.”
“Maybe you should see someone.”
“For a headache?”
“No… for everything that led up to the headache.”
As I tossed out bloodied chunks of our home earlier, I concluded that Cain doesn’t need medical help. He needs a therapist.
He rests his hands on my arms and stares at me with red-tinged eyes. “I’m exhausted, all right? The only thing I need is rest.” He slides his hands down until they’re hanging limply at his side. I don’t deny that he looks like he needs sleep, but how much more? That’s all he’s been doing for the past thirty hours.
He trudges off toward the stairs, then pauses without turning around. “And can you make sure that old toy goes out with the trash? It’s rusty and sharp, and I don’t need it cutting anyone.”
“Okay,” I say, but I’m thinking, what now? He seems to be over his ‘groveling at my feet for forgiveness’ stage, but at least he’s not back to hurling insults around. Or wandering the house in the middle of the night. He just needs… help. And am I a hypocrite for wanting him to get it?
My phone chimes from across the room, the tone sharing a direct link to my lips. It sounds and I smile wide.
I miss you.
It takes me two seconds to reply, I miss you too.
Maybe Cain’s not the only one who needs help.
I assume Cain has caught up on his rest because he left early for work. I spent the night on the love seat and didn’t even hear him go out the door this morning.
Of course, I might’ve been too out of it to wake up. Texting until 3:00 a.m. will do that to you.
I make a full pot of coffee to counteract my few hours of sleep. Then I get started on the list of mental health specialists covered by our insurance plan. There’s no chance in hell that Cain will go if we have to pay out of pocket.
Two hours later, I’m wired and optimistic. I spoke to a psychotherapist who’d be able to meet with Cain tomorrow due to a cancellation. I cross my fingers as I pick up my phone once more. It’s worth a shot.
“Cain speaking.”
“Hi, it’s me.”
“Hey.”
I still my bouncing knee. “Doing better?”
“Yep.”
“Can you keep an open mind about something?”
“What’s this about? I’m at work, you know.”
“I know, I’m the one who called you.” I leap up and start to pace. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened, and I’m concerned.” He doesn’t comment, so I continue. “And I found someone who can maybe help figure out what’s going on.”
“What do you mean you found someone?”
“Dr. Swanson. She’s out in Middleton, and there’s an opening tomorrow. It’d be after work and she’s in network. No charge.”
“A doctor, Maddie? Seriously?”
I gnaw at my lips. “Well, a psychotherapist, to be exact. She—”
“No.”
“No?”
“Even if something were wrong, do you think I have time to sit around and talk?”
“But I’ll go with you.”
“I said no.”
“Cain—”
“Jesus, Maddie. Lay off this shit, okay? Don’t you know what it’s like to be exhausted? I needed sleep, and I got it. End of story.”
“You had a freaking breakdown!”
His sigh comes through loud and clear, and I wish I were on an old-fashioned phone so I could wrap the cord around my neck.
“You’re back to the dramatics again, really?”
“My God, you were curled up and sobbing. Inconsolable. What the hell do you call that if not a mental breakdown?”
“I was tired. My body shut down and needed rest. I don’t know how many times I have to say it.”
“How about you humor me, then?” I say,
hoping it will trigger something. He would’ve been willing to do anything for me a couple days ago. He would’ve walked on his hands naked down the freeway if I’d asked him to. “Try one session. For me. It won’t even cost anything.”
“Fuck, I don’t have time for this.”
“No, Cain. You never do.”
I end the call.
“Fuck!” I scream with everything in me, the only souls hearing are the hawks and the field mice and the fucking overachieving squirrels.
I’m too jacked up to go back to bed. I’m too distracted to work on my designs. I’m too frustrated to do a damn thing but stomp around the house like a five-year-old denied her second can of nine-teaspoons-of-sugar soda.
Eventually, I wear myself out, deciding I don’t care as I languish sprawled out on the floor. If Cain doesn’t give a shit, I don’t either. I’m his wife, not his keeper. Besides, what gives me the right to try and help after I cheated on him?
My lips rise high as tension drains through the cracks in the tiles. My phone just chimed.
When can I see you again?
Seventeen
Eight years earlier
I can’t get enough of his kisses. Soft and sweet and hungry. I’ll gladly die a million times over if I can do it in his arms.
He holds me so tight, and I feel safe, like nothing bad can ever happen as long as we’re together. I love him and he loves me.
How’d I ever get so lucky?
“Are you still coming over tonight?” he whispers in my ear, and I shiver down to my toes.
“Yes. I’ll be there around seven.”
He doesn’t know it yet, but tonight’s the night. The night. I’m finally ready. I’m going to give him every part of me. I’ve thought about it a lot and it’s time. I must be the only seventeen-year-old virgin left at East, but I’m so glad I waited. I can’t imagine anyone else as special as Jake.
He gives me one more lingering kiss before I head inside. When I get to the front porch, I turn around and wave. He gets into his car, waving back as he drives away. I hug my middle and squeeze hard. I cannot wait.
I open the door and yell, “Hi, Mom!” I kick off my shoes and drop my backpack. I hear her arguing on the phone. Obviously, it’s Father. That’s the only one she fights with.
I’m in the kitchen, grabbing a snack when she comes in and gives me a hug. “Hi, honey. How was school?”
“Good.”
“Any plans tonight?”
I feel a rush of heat. “Just hanging out with Jake.”
“That’s nice.” She likes Jake. Everyone does. “Will you be eating dinner first?”
“Yeah, I’m not going till seven.” When his parents leave for the night.
She pulls a box of pasta and a jar of sauce from the cabinet. “You hold on to that one, you hear? There’s little more special than a first love.”
I smile. “I know, Mom. It’s right behind a first child.” Good thing I’m an only, because then what would she say?
She walks over and squeezes my face in her hand, shaking gently. “That’s right, honey.” Mom releases my cheeks and crouches down for a pot. “Unless your name is William. Then it’s only your second that matters.”
I’ve memorized the story many times over, but she never fails to remind me. She let her first love go to marry my father, and it was the worst mistake of her life, as long as I’m taken out of the equation. All he did was wreak havoc on our family when he cheated and left us both for a cheap whore—her words. I only met her once when I was too young to know what a cheap whore was. Then Mom found out and went ballistic, so that put an end to that.
“I’m sure there’re one or two good Williams out there,” I tease.
She glances up. “Well, I haven’t met any.”
I hop up on the counter. “Speaking of… Father asked if I wanted to do something next week.” I hate this part. Every time I mention him, I feel like I’m stabbing her in the back. Lately, it’s easier on my conscience to avoid him completely. It’s not like it’s any big hardship on my part. He did leave us, after all. He doesn’t deserve to be a part of my life.
“And what did you tell him?”
“I said I’m really busy with school right now and I’d let him know.”
“Hmm.” Pots are banging around, but I can still make out the words “selfish” and “homewrecker” and “lowlife bastard.” She stands up and faces me. “I know you’ll be an adult soon, and you’ll be making your own choices. I can’t protect you forever. But never forget what that man did to us, Madison. He didn’t want to be a part of your life then, so what makes him think he deserves to be a part of it now?”
“I know, Mom. I promise I won’t forget.”
“I don’t think your mom likes me very much.”
I arrived at Jake’s just as Mr. and Mrs. Adams were leaving. She made it a point to say she wasn’t feeling well and would likely be home early. It sounded like a warning directed at me. At least his dad greeted me warmly. He’s always friendly, but his mom… well, she looks at me like I’m a lemon she’s sucking on.
He pulls me close. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s always true.”
“No, it’s not. She’s just set in her ways.” He trails his soft lips up and down my neck and I dissolve. “She worries we’re getting too serious.”
After tonight, she’s going to wish she still worried. If she thinks we’re serious now….
“Do you ever think that?” I ask. Even though we’re the same age by a few months, he’s a grade higher. He’ll be going off to college while I’ll be finishing up high school. I don’t like to think about that too often because it knots my stomach. “Do you think it’s silly to tie ourselves to one person when we have our whole lives ahead of us?”
Don’t say yes, don’t say yes. Not that he’s ever so much as hinted to that, but I need to hear his feelings one more time before I change both our lives forever.
“No, I think it’s pretty damn great. Especially when you’re that person.” His mouth travels lower, caressing the skin near the tops of my breasts. It’s not like we haven’t done anything before. We just haven’t done the thing. “I love you, Maddie. I want nothing more than to tie myself to you for the rest of my life.”
This boy. My heart can’t beat any faster. I already knew in my head that I’d made the right decision, but now I feel it deep in my bones. He’s the one I’m going to marry and have babies with. I won’t make the same mistake as my mom. He’s my first love, and he’ll also be my last.
“I love you too, Jake. Forever.”
I shake when his mouth goes even lower and his fingers brush my pebbled skin. My entire body is thumping. He lets out a low growly noise, as he usually does when I have this reaction. Then he pulls away and grabs my hands instead, resting his forehead on mine as we both calm our breaths. With the exception of one time when we really got carried away, this is usually the point where I say we need to slow down. A whole year and a month we’ve been together, and he’s been nothing but patient with me.
“So, what do you want to do tonight?” he asks, giving me a quick kiss on the top of my head. He wraps his fingers tightly in mine and leads me toward the family room. “We can make some popcorn and watch a movie or—”
“Or we could go to your bedroom.”
He freezes. “What?”
“I’m ready.”
“Ready?” It’s so quiet, I can practically hear the blood pulsing through his veins. “Are you sure?” he whispers.
I suck on my bottom lip and nod. I’m so freaking ready.
“God, Maddie.” He tugs me toward him and strokes my hair, planting tiny kisses all over my face. “Please be sure,” he begs. “I need you to be sure. Because once it happens, we can’t go back.”
“I don’t want to go back. Only forward.” I make a bold move and guide his hand between my legs. I just about pass out and he moans. “I’m sure.”
He swoops me up and carries m
e to his room, his mouth barely leaving mine. “I love you so much, Madison James. I’ll never stop loving you.”
“And I’ll never stop loving you, Jake Adams.”
He lays me on his bed. “No regrets?”
“No regrets.”
Eighteen
“Where’d you just leave to?”
I smile, stroking my fingers over the hills of his chest, the valleys of his stomach. It took five days, but I’m back in his arms. In his bed.
“I was just thinking about our first time. I’ve been doing that a lot lately.”
Jake pulls me on top of him, his hardness bruising in the best way. I lean my mouth down to his jaw, and my hair joins with his. A strawberry coated in sand.
“I never wanted to only be your first. I also wanted to be your last.”
“I wanted that too.”
He brushes my long strands to the side, tucking them behind my ears. “Remember what I told you that night? I’ll never stop loving you.”
“I remember.”
“And I haven’t. Not for one second.” I burrow my face into his neck, and he pulls me back up. “Maddie, I’m serious.”
“I know.” How can I express how both sad and happy that makes me? “But I’m not the one who let go.”
I fall to his chest and his arms circle around my bare back. It feels like he’s locking me against him for all time. We remain in silence for so many breaths I lose count.
“You’re wrong.” He’s the first one to break the sound of us beating in tune. “I never let go, not in my heart. And I never loved Reyna.” That almost makes it worse. “Last time I saw you, you said I have it easier, but nothing could be further from the truth. You know I’ve never loved another. How can it possibly be easier for me when I know you have?”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, it’s not. Don’t you think I’m aware how it’s my fault you moved on enough to love another man? To marry another man?”
“Even more unfair, considering you married first.”
“And I kick myself every moment for what I did to you, to me, to us.” He takes my hand and places it over his heart. “Sometimes I wonder how this can continue to beat day in and day out after how badly I’ve treated it. I completely ignored what it needed and followed my head instead. I should have listened to my dad.”