by Barbara Gee
“I’m sorry,” I said again, knowing it was inadequate.
He looked off to the side for a moment, then back at me. Somehow his gaze was piercing, even in the dark.
“Is the….something….you have to do….is it going to break us up?”
I looked down, feeling like my heart was ripping in two. “I don’t know,” I whispered.
“That’s not what I want, Ava,” he said softly. “It’s not what you want.”
I was hurting him and I hated it. I took a shaky breath and tried again.
“All I can say is that I’m sincerely trying to do the right thing,” I told him. “I’ll explain it when I can, I promise. I know this isn’t fair to you, but maybe it’ll turn out okay in the end. That’s what I’m hoping and praying for. I just….I just don’t know at this point.”
He wiped a hand down his face, fingers and palm rasping against the stubble on his jaw. “So I should just sit back and wait? For however long this thing might take?”
I watched him, biting my lip as I shook my head slowly. “That’s up to you. I know I can’t expect you to.”
His chest rose and fell on another sigh. He was quiet for a while and I fought the urge to flee. I hated what I was doing to him. To us.
Finally, he spoke again. “Put a rush on it, okay? I miss you.”
Hot tears rolled down my cheeks. “I’ll try. I miss you, too.” And then I turned and walked quickly toward my house. Up the steps and across the porch, without looking back.
I sank to the floor as soon as I closed the door behind me.
Please call me, Myla. Please, please call. I have to know what comes next.
Chapter 19
Another whole week passed, and still no word from Myla. I texted her a few more times and emailed her. She’d call if she was getting my messages, I knew she would, but I had to keep trying. Where in the world could she be that there was absolutely no communication?
So many times I picked up my phone and brought up Jude’s number. I wanted contact with him, even if it was just a text to say I’m still trying, and still missing you.
I didn’t do it, though. It wouldn’t be right to try to keep a link with him when I was only going to sever it in the end.
As the days passed, I began to doubt whether he even wanted to hear from me anymore. I was afraid my unexplained about-face had made him realize I was more trouble than I was worth.
I felt myself withdrawing more and more into a hermit-like shell. I didn’t go out, and I didn’t communicate with my family except through short texts saying I was too busy to talk. When I’d heard a noise the other day and looked out my office window to see Hannah knocking on my back door, I’d stayed put. A minute later, she’d given up and gone back through the gate.
I kept working crazy hours, trying to escape. I had dark circles under my eyes, and my neck and shoulders burned with tension. I was angry at myself and angry at Myla, even though I knew she was completely innocent. She had no idea her extreme reaction to a breakup three years ago was causing my own extreme reaction now, and she had no idea how desperately I needed to talk to her.
Hannah came over again on Thursday. This time she caught me in the kitchen, and since she could see me through the open blind on the door, I had to let her in. She handed me a plate of bars and I reluctantly met her sad, concerned gaze.
“You’re hurting, too,” she said gently. “I see that. I’m going to trust that you wouldn’t put Jude or yourself through this if you didn’t have a good reason. Just—just figure it out, okay? You two had something special. You need to get back to that.”
The temptation to confide in her was strong. I didn’t have anyone I could talk to about this, and my totally solitary week had taken its toll. Even my work was starting to suffer because I was overdoing it and burning out.
I resisted the temptation, though. It wouldn’t be fair to put her in the middle.
“That’s what I want,” I said finally, my throat going tight. “I’m trying, Hannah.”
She gave me a quick hug, then left. I spent a long time sitting in the wingback in the living room, staring at nothing. I felt my determination to talk to Myla before opening up to Jude waning. I could just go ahead and level with him. I could tell him about being friends with Myla and how I was afraid me being with him would send her back to square one where she was fragile and depressed and made impulsive decisions about life.
He’d understand my caution, right? Maybe he’d even have some suggestions for making it easier for her. If we were careful, if we considered her feelings and gave her a chance to come to terms with it, maybe she’d accept it in time. Wasn’t there at least a possibility of that? Unless…..unless their breakup had been caused by more than just Jude deciding he didn’t love her.
That raised a whole other question. What would I do if he confessed to cheating on her? In my heart, that’s what I’d always suspected had happened to cause Myla’s breakup. But that was before I’d met Jude. Was he capable of that? And if not now, had he been three years ago?
I got up and paced to the window. I couldn’t keep going like this. I was beginning to fear there was a very real chance that Myla wouldn’t be able to call until she was completely finished with her special duty, and I couldn’t wait for that.
Jude deserved better.
I let my forehead fall against the window glass. I knew what I had to do. Now I just had to find the courage to do it. The courage to tell Jude we were over.
***
That courage eluded me. More days passed as I tried to sort things out. Tried to decide how to tell Jude I was choosing my friendship with Myla over him, even though it would break my heart. I didn’t expect him to understand, and that would only make it harder.
On Saturday evening, exactly two weeks after I’d realized he was JP, Jude sent me a text. When the tone I’d set for him sounded so unexpectedly, I practically jumped out of my skin. Heart racing, I just stared at my phone where it lay on the table, afraid to pick it up. Then I made a grab for it, desperate to hear something, anything, from him.
It was simple and to the point, and even that was more than I deserved after being inexplicably silent for so long.
Can we talk yet?
My hands started trembling as soon as I read the words. Part of me was surprised he still wanted to talk, considering I’d completely shut him out. I mean, really, could I have handled this any worse? I’d made up excuse after excuse for why I couldn’t talk to Jude, but nothing justified letting him hang for so long. Nothing.
I suddenly despised myself for the way I’d treated him. I’d been so caught up in my own misery I hadn’t given enough thought to what I was doing to him. I’d been a coward. A mixed up, lovesick, indecisive coward, and that had to end.
Yes. We can talk. Tomorrow?
I’ll be over sometime after lunch.
I’ll be here. Come whenever.
I waited for a reply, but none came. There was really nothing else to say, I supposed. We both knew what was coming. My prolonged silence meant there wasn’t much chance I was going to tell him anything other than goodbye, and Jude was smart enough to know that. He also needed to hear me say it and to get an explanation.
Even though I owed him that, I dreaded the meeting with every cell of my being. I would tell him the whole truth, but I knew that wouldn’t be the end of it. I needed to be prepared to hear him tell me I was making the wrong choice. He might even tell me things I didn’t know about his and Myla’s relationship. Maybe he hadn’t been at fault at all. Maybe Myla had made impossible demands on him and driven him away.
Or maybe my looming fear was valid and he’d indeed been unfaithful.
Would any of that make a difference?
I’d know soon enough.
***
“Um, sure, I’d love to join you at the buffet,” I told a navy-clad Priscilla the next day when she cornered me on the way to my pew. I was a little thrown by her conservative color choice. I mean, even I h
ad navy shoes.
She warned me I’d have to hurry to the restaurant right after church or I wouldn’t get a close parking space. As if I hadn’t gone through the routine with Grandma at least fifty times.
To tell the truth, I was glad for her invitation. The hours between now and when Jude came over were going to be awful, as my dread grew ever heavier, and passing time with the ladies was preferable to my own lousy company.
I closed my eyes as the worship team led us in song, trying to feel the words I was singing. Words about Jesus’ unending love and faithfulness and giving God my burdens and trusting Him to see me through.
I gradually relaxed, my spirit growing a little bit calmer. It was good to be here, and I was glad I’d made the effort to come…..even though I’d felt a little bit like a nocturnal animal caught in the sun when I’d left my house in full daylight.
I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into with the buffet, but it had to be better than sitting at home counting the minutes until Jude arrived.
And this time, I wouldn’t be counting them down in a good way.
An hour and a half later, I was eating—or trying to eat—roast beef and mashed potatoes while listening to tales about kidney stones, cataracts, and irritable bowels. When Priscilla launched into an update on her sciatica, which was showing improvement thanks to her new chiropractor, Donna leaned over and asked if I’d want to meet her and Rosie at the trailhead down from my house at seven the next evening for a walk.
I readily agreed. After talking to Jude this afternoon, I knew I’d be devastated all over again, and the temptation to shut myself away would be strong. Promising to walk would ensure I’d get out of the house and be sociable, for at least a little while.
Over dessert, I listened to Priscilla’s husband, Myron, and Donna’s husband, Ray, the lone men in the group, argue about football. Some of the ladies rolled their eyes, having no doubt sat through many such “discussions.” I didn’t mind, though. It was still better than being home alone.
When the last bites of pie and cake had been consumed, and of course critiqued extensively…..a little too sweet, rather dense, a lovely texture…..I reluctantly parted ways with the group. I was glad for the time I’d had with them. Their chatter had definitely helped distract me from the inevitable.
I wondered how soon Jude would show up. Sometime after lunch didn’t exactly narrow things down.
I was in the parking lot close to my car when I passed two men looking up in the sky, one of them pointing.
“See that? That’s Life Flight putting down. The accident must’ve been worse than the alert said.”
The other man checked his phone. “Yep, they just updated it. Said the landing zone was set up at the elementary school.”
“Does it say who it is yet?”
“Not on the alert, but hang on, I just got a text from Melody.” He paused to read. “She said Courtney’s on-call for the ambulance, and she just sent a text. Says the copter’s for the guy whose pickup got dragged under the tractor trailer. Says it’s that Keller fella. Works for Owens Construction.”
Wait, what? His words punched through my chest. Did he say Keller? And Owens’ Construction? My legs went weak. No. Oh, please God, no no no.
Everything started spinning and I found myself on my hands and knees without remembering how I got there. Priscilla was leaning down, stroking my cheek and hollering for someone to get me some water.
“Are you feeling sick, Ava Ann?” she asked. “Did you eat too much? Do you feel like you’re gonna throw up? It’s okay if you do, dear, you’ll feel better after.”
I shook my head and grabbed the closest car bumper to pull myself up.
“No, I’m not sick. I just felt a little light-headed for a moment.” I swallowed my panic and took a step toward my car. “I have to go.”
“Well I don’t know if you’re in any shape to drive, dear. Let Myron and me take you home. You can have someone bring you back to pick up your car later.”
“No, I’m fine. Really. I can drive, it’s not far.” I didn’t want her to take me home and then insist on fussing over me. I had to get away and find out what was happening to Jude.
Please let him be okay. Please, God. Please watch over him.
I struggled out of Priscilla’s clutches and hurried to my car. My heart was still pounding but my head was clear now. I had to get home. I had to find Hannah and Chase. They’d know what was going on.
***
I jumped from the car as soon as I shut it off in my driveway, running directly to Hannah’s front door. I rang the bell and pounded on the door. I could hear Lulu barking like crazy, but no one came to answer the door. I pounded again, calling for Hannah, but she didn’t come.
What if they’d been in the accident, too? What if they’d all gone out to lunch together and were in the same vehicle when the truck hit it?
I couldn’t bear to imagine that. I ran back toward my house, stopping dead when I heard the rapid thump of rotors passing overhead. Jude. I raced inside and up the stairs to my office. I had to find out which hospital someone would be flown to from here.
My web search showed two medium-sized hospitals about a half hour from Hidden Creek, in opposite directions, but it appeared only one of them had an advanced trauma unit. That had to be the one the Life Flight was heading to. I wanted to go there immediately, but Jude’s family would no doubt be flocking to his side. I’d never met any of them other than Chase, and I didn’t want to be the awkward interloper no one knew, hanging around making everyone uncomfortable.
Plus, I had no right to be there. Not really. I’d left Jude high and dry these past two weeks, and to suddenly play the concerned girlfriend wouldn’t sit well. Not with him, or anyone else.
I changed out of my dress, pulling on the first pair of jeans I found and a T-shirt from the top of a stack in the drawer. I curled up on my bed and prayed, begging God to spare the life of a good, good man. One who I was sure had much yet to accomplish here on earth, even if it wasn’t with me.
Over an hour had passed by the time I finally pushed myself up and off the bed, my face swollen and stiff from dried tears. I washed it with cold water and went downstairs, checking my phone for any new notifications. I wished Hannah would call me, but why would she? I was out of the loop, and I had no one to blame but myself.
I wasn’t too proud to try to change that, however. I had to know how Jude was.
I dialed Hannah’s number and counted the rings, my tense shoulders slumping when it went to voicemail. I didn’t leave a message. Hopefully when she saw she’d missed a call she’d call me back. Maybe.
I waited five minutes, then tried to call Chase. Again, I got voicemail. That left me out of options, because I didn’t know anyone else close to Jude. There was no one else I could call.
I turned on the local TV station and after a few minutes they gave a news alert about the accident. The reporter said a pickup had been waiting to make a left-hand turn a mile out of Hidden Creek, when a tractor-trailer had crossed the center line and hit the pickup almost head on. The pickup spun and caught underneath the trailer and had been dragged a short distance before the bigger truck could get stopped.
They gave no names, saying only that the condition of the patient who had been flown out was unknown at this time.
I waited another excruciating hour, then tried Hannah and Chase again. Still no answer.
That was it. Awkward or not, I was going to the hospital. I had to know how he was. And if there was the teeniest, tiniest chance it would mean something to him to know I was there, it would be worth any amount of discomfort.
***
I set my GPS and drove where it sent me, completely caught up in memories. There’d been so many good times packed into the two incredible weeks I’d had with Jude. I especially remembered being snugged up beside him in the back of Hannah’s car that last evening we’d been together. Knowing I loved him, seeing a future with him, and feeling happier than I’d ev
er been. Only to realize minutes later that he was Myla’s JP and she’d once felt exactly the same way.
I hadn’t had a single second of happiness since, but being devoid of happiness was nothing compared to the terror I felt now. What if I got to the hospital and he was already gone?
I shuddered, then told myself to stop thinking the worst. Maybe Jude wasn’t hurt that badly—maybe the helicopter had been more precaution than necessity. I tried to think positively, but by the time I got to the hospital thirty minutes later, my whole body felt stiff and sore from tension, and my jaw ached fiercely from clenching it so hard.
I went in the front entrance and up to the desk. When I told the greeter that the person I was looking for had been flown in, she told me to go to the Emergency Department waiting area. When I looked blank, the helpful lady gave me instructions on how to get there, and I tried my best to focus on what she was saying.
“Take a left just past the elevators over there, then take the second right and follow the signs.”
I had just made the right and was looking around desperately for a sign when I turned and saw Chase coming toward me. Chase and…. I stopped short and reached for the wall, needing something to hold onto because my legs were threatening to give out for the second time that day.
Jude. He was right there, half a step behind Chase. Twenty feet away and closing. Big and tall and beautiful—and completely unmarked.
How could that be? He’d just been flown in on a Life Flight helicopter.
They stopped a few feet away from me.
“What are you doing here, Ava?” Jude asked, eyes narrowed, lips unsmiling.
Relief like I’d never known overcame the shock then, and I lost it. I just lost it. I wanted to hold him and never let go, but I knew I couldn’t, so I whirled around and ran, vaguely aware that I almost collided with a couple who had walked up behind me. I didn’t even say excuse me, I just kept running. I needed to be alone. I was on extreme emotional overload and it had to come out.