Heartfelt Lies

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Heartfelt Lies Page 13

by Kristy Love


  “Hi. How are you?” Her voice was small and almost fearful, like she was afraid of me. I guess that was fitting since I wanted to kick her ass.

  “I’m good. How are you?”

  “I’m sorry,” she blurted, completely ignoring what I said.

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I told Jax about the wedding. It was an accident, I swear.”

  A laugh escaped me, though it sounded bitter. “You’re good at telling people stuff by accident.”

  “No, it really was. I had the invitation hanging on my fridge to remind me to go get a gift and a dress. Jax came over one day for dinner and saw it. He stared at it for a good five minutes before he asked about it.”

  My heart leapt into my throat. “He saw it?”

  “Yeah. He looked crushed when he saw it, though he quickly covered it up.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. So, as I said, it was an accident. He only saw the invitation about three days before the wedding. I didn’t notice until after the wedding that my invitation wasn’t on my fridge anymore.”

  “So, he took it?”

  “Yeah, the bastard stole it right off my fridge. I can’t believe my dumb ass didn’t notice it was gone.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “No, it isn’t. He told me what he did and I flipped out.”

  “It’s really okay. It’s better this way.”

  “I’m not going to lie and pretend I understand what you’re saying.”

  “I loved Nolan, but not the right way.” I was quiet, and she let me get lost in my thoughts. I pulled into the parking lot of the doctor’s office and parked. “I still love him,” I said, my voice small, just barely above a whisper. I hoped she knew I meant Jax. I couldn’t bring myself to say his name.

  She let out a long breath. “I’m so glad.”

  I furrowed my brow, wondering what in the hell she was talking about. “You’re glad?”

  “Listen, Cassie, I’m sorry I told Jax about the wedding, but only a little bit. He loves you still. So much. You should have seen the heartbreak in his eyes when he asked me about you getting married. He wanted to know if you were happy.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him that you seemed happy enough. You were smiling and laughing again.”

  “I know,” I said, my voice thick with tears. When I left Jax, I was a mess. I couldn’t remember how I functioned. Somehow, I still got to work and took care of Ben, but it was all a blur. Luckily, Maria and Ry helped me as much as they could. Ry was a blessing. She helped me pick up the pieces of my heart and never mentioned Jax until I felt brave enough to ask one day. It took me a long time to feel okay again. I tried for Ben’s sake, but it wasn’t enough.

  “When I told him that you were happy, he looked like I had just dropped a ton of concrete on him. Crushed doesn’t even begin to describe it,” she said, breaking me out of my thoughts.

  “I was happy, but not happy enough.”

  “I know that now. You put up a good front.”

  “I wanted to love him enough, Ry. I wanted it to be enough.”

  “I understand.”

  “Does he know?”

  “Yeah, I told him after.”

  I was quiet, wanting to know why he hadn’t called or come to see me, but afraid of the answer. Maybe he had changed his mind. Maybe it was enough to know that my wedding had been called off. Now he could move on.

  “He’s afraid, Cassie. He holds his sobriety so tightly, he’s afraid of messing it up. He’s afraid he’s not good enough for you,” Ry said, filling in the silence. “He’s afraid you can’t forgive him, and of what will happen to him if you reject him.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s shitty, I know. You want him to be there, but he’s struggling.”

  “Should I call him?”

  “No, give him some time.”

  “Then why did you call me? If you don’t want me to contact him, then why open this wound that I’m desperately trying to heal?” I asked. Tears brimmed in my eyes, blurring the scenery around me. I wanted to help Jax if he was struggling.

  No, I just wanted Jax.

  “I called to see how you were doing and to apologize. I also wanted to invite you to dinner.”

  “Dinner?”

  “Yeah, dinner. I wanted to apologize properly for ruining your wedding day and catch up. Phone calls aren’t enough.”

  “When?”

  “Are you free this weekend? You and Ben could come and stay with me and Will. We have the guest room you can stay in.”

  “Sure. It’ll be nice to get away. I’ll drive up after work on Friday.”

  “Perfect.”

  We solidified plans for a few more minutes before hanging up. I headed in to work, excited for the first time in months. It would be good to see Ry and Will. It would also be good to get out of town for a few days and recharge.

  BEN AND I pulled up outside of Ry and Will’s house. I grabbed the suitcase I had put our stuff in and Ben slung his book bag over his shoulder. He was excited to get away, too, chatting the entire three hour drive about all the cool stuff we could do this weekend. The few times we had gotten together with Ry and Will had made a big impression on Ben. Will always spent time with Ben, hanging out with him and doing guy stuff. Ben was excited to see what Will had planned for this weekend.

  I rang the doorbell and Ry immediately opened it and engulfed me in her arms.

  “You look beautiful,” she said, squeezing me until it was hard to breathe.

  “Thank you. You do, too.”

  “It’s funny. Who would have thought that breaking off an engagement could make someone seem happier.”

  I chuckled. “Thanks for rubbing it in, Ry.”

  “Hey, guys,” Will said, throwing a dish towel over his shoulder. He rubbed his hand on the top of Ben’s head, messing up his hair before hugging me.

  “Hey. It’s good to see you both,” I said, smiling.

  “I’m just finishing up dinner. Come in the kitchen. Do you want a glass of wine or anything?” Ry asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Red or white?”

  “Red, please,” I said.

  I followed Ry into the kitchen and Ben went off with Will somewhere. They were already off in their own world. Ry chattered about her new promotion at work. She loved her job and that was apparent.

  They had just moved into their house shortly after Jax and I broke up. The kitchen was a decent size, though not too big. Little touches were everywhere that made it feel like home. There was a picture of Jax and Ry hanging on the wall sending a pang through me. He seemed happy and his eyes were clear. It was amazing to me that I still checked his eyes for signs of inebriation, even after all these years.

  Maybe Ry was right. Jax was sober now.

  I was helping Ry set the table when the doorbell rang. Will went to get it and I heard hushed voices out in the entry way. Ry kept chatting away as though a guest hadn’t just arrived. Maybe it was some random solicitor. The door closed and footsteps echoed toward the kitchen.

  The air shifted around me and I looked over my shoulder. Jax was there, causing my lungs to seize and stop working. He looked as though he was in complete shock over seeing me standing in his sister’s kitchen. I took in his dark jeans, t-shirt, and brown leather jacket. His hair was disheveled. Clearly, he hadn’t stopped running his hands through it. As though my thoughts prompted it, he ran a hand through his hair and rested it on the back of his neck. His eyes were a clear blue-green. God, he was gorgeous. My body wanted to go to him. I wanted to throw myself in his arms and kiss him. I missed his arms around me.

  “Hey,” he said, offering me a crooked smile that made my heart squeeze painfully in my chest. His crooked grins had always done me in.

  “Hi,” I said.

  Ben walked in behind them. “Mom, it’s Jax. He used to be your friend.”

  A knife stabbed me in the heart and twisted painfully. Friend.
God, we had been so much more than friends. Obviously, Ry or Will had introduced the two of them. For a few years after Jax left, Ben would mention Jax occasionally, but then he stopped. I figured he forgot Jax. Now that they were standing side-by-side I had bad chest pains. I picked up my wine glass and sipped it. When the wine filled my mouth, my eyes met Jax’s and it turned to vinegar in my mouth. Was it okay to drink in front of him? This was so fucked up. “Yeah, he did,” I finally said once I squeezed the wine past the lump that had grown in my throat.

  “He came to have dinner with us. Isn’t that cool?”

  I nodded, still unable to form words. Ry directed us all to sit. It was only then that I realized we had set five places at the table. Ry sat at one end of the table while Will sat at the other. Ben sat on one side, leaving Jax and me the two chairs right next to each other. I wanted to strangle Ry for bombarding me this way. I also wanted to punch myself in the face for not realizing this was her plan all along.

  Jax and I sat, careful to leave enough space between us that we didn’t touch at all, though I still felt him. I felt his body call to mine. As he handed me the bread our hands brushed. I had to close my eyes to calm myself. My heart nearly stopped beating at the small contact.

  This was going to be a long dinner.

  I HADN’T HEARD from my mom since Christmas Day. She had sounded really rough that night. I chocked it up to her not feeling well, but something wasn’t sitting right with me. It had been a week and I hadn’t gotten a call, a text, not anything. I usually heard from her a couple times a day. The radio silence was killing me. I had tried calling, texting, fuck, I had even tried to email her. Nothing.

  Today I was driving up there. I should have gone to see her sooner, but I had been busy. Between Christmas, distributing, and spending time with Cassandra, I had been distracted. Not distracted enough to forget about her, but I didn’t want to travel up there. I hated to see her the way she was now. Her hair was always stringy and greasy. She could never remember when the last time she showered was or when she had eaten last. Saying she was a mess was the biggest fucking understatement ever. It was hard seeing her that way and knowing I couldn’t help her. There was nothing I could do. I was doing it all. I was giving her money and buying her food. I made her take a shower.

  But she still seemed lifeless. Her eyes were dull and she was constantly scratching. Anytime I asked her what was wrong, she said nothing, she was just upset about needing her son to support her. I couldn’t help the pit that had grown in my stomach. Something more was going on, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I pulled up to a red light and grabbed my phone. I had gotten a text a few minutes ago, but hadn’t been able to check it since I was driving.

  Cassandra: I hope everything goes well with your mom. Can’t wait to see you later. <3

  I smiled. She knew I was worried about my mom and was trying to make me feel more at ease.

  Jax: Thanks. Can’t wait to see you. Love you.

  I pulled into the parking lot of my mom’s apartment complex and climbed out of my truck, then sighed. Nerves chewed at my stomach and something like worry gnawed at me. With every step I took toward my mom’s place, the dread grew thicker and heavier. I pushed the door of my mom’s apartment open.

  “Mom? Are you here?” I called out. There were food containers and dirty dishes on the coffee table and lining the kitchen counters. Dirty clothes littered the floor and there was a stench that I couldn’t place. A blanket and pillow were on the couch. When she didn’t answer, I closed the door behind me and walked further into the apartment. There was garbage and dirty plates everywhere. I had just been up here a week and a half ago. How had it gone to shit so quickly? “Mom?”

  The eerie silence made it all seem worse. I kicked some clothes aside in the hallway. The bathroom door was slightly ajar and the light was on. It was the only light on in the whole apartment. I took a deep breath, fortifying myself, and pushed the door open.

  The sight on the bathroom floor brought me literally to my knees. I collapsed and an awful noise filled the apartment. It took me a few minutes to realize the horrific scream came from me.

  My mom was sitting on the floor with her back against the side of the tub. Her legs stuck out in front of her. Her head drooped down onto her chest and her hands were resting in her lap. It would have looked like she was relaxing, but her head was tilted to the side. Her lips were blue, her face was drained of color.

  My mother was dead.

  Even though I knew she was gone, I rushed over, touching her neck. I felt no pulse. I scrambled away from her body until my back hit the hallway wall. The bathroom door was wide open so I could still see her. My heart raced and I fought back vomit. I knew I should have called someone, anyone, but I couldn’t stop staring at her lifeless body. Drops fell to wet my chest and I realized I was crying. Still, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from my mom.

  After forever, I finally got my phone out and called for an ambulance. As soon as they said one was on the way, I hung up and sat there . . . like a scared little boy. I wanted my mom to wake up and say it was a bad batch of drugs, but she’d be okay. She’d go to rehab again and be okay.

  I knew she wouldn’t. She’d never be okay again. A sob ripped its way from my throat. I clawed at my chest and wondered what was happening with my heart. It felt as if it was shattering and it hurt so fucking bad.

  The police and paramedics came in. They loaded my mother’s body in a black bag and strapped it on a gurney. The police asked me questions but I couldn’t tell them anything. What did I know? My mom complained about a stomach ache a week ago and then communication stopped. She could have been dead here, alone, for a week and no one would have known.

  An officer helped me off the floor and escorted me outside. As soon as the cold air hit my face, it seemed to wake me up a bit.

  I had failed my mother. I had seen the signs and lied to myself. When she had a drink, I should have taken it away. Her itching and sudden aversion to alcohol made sense. I should have recognized the signs. Alcohol and heroin were often a fatal combination. Itching was a sign of needing the next hit. I kicked a bench and locked my hands behind my head. I was so angry I couldn’t even stand it. I was mad at myself for failing my mother. I was angry at her for relapsing. I was angry that I was so fucking distracted that I didn’t see her self-destructing.

  The ambulance with my mother’s body drove away. The police told me they were going back to look around the apartment. They directed me to notify anyone that needed notifying that my mom was dead. The word felt like a knife in my gut. Dead. Dead. Dead. My mother was dead.

  I pulled my phone out and stared at it. Who did I call? Ry? Tell her our mother had relapsed and died and admit it was my fault? Cassandra? Confess that my mom was dead and I was a colossal fuckup? There was no one else. I had so few people who were important and now one of the few people I had was gone.

  I stood there in a daze, wondering what the fuck I was going to do. How would I let my sister know that I had failed our mother? I had failed everyone.

  My phone was still in my hand when the two officers came out to talk to me.

  “Did you know your mother was using heroin?” the tall one asked. He was several inches taller than my six feet. His face was grim and serious.

  “No,” I said. Had I known, though? Deep down I guessed I recognized that I had been ignoring the signs. But I wanted so much for her to be okay that I lied myself into believing it.

  “We found lots of empty baggies and used syringes. It was likely she had been using for a while.” This was the shorter cop.

  I nodded. “She used to use.”

  “Well, she relapsed, son.”

  “No way,” I said, sarcasm dripping off my words. “I never would have guessed it.”

  “It was an overdose,” the other cop said.

  “No shit. The needle in her arm was a pretty big fucking indicator.”

  They both leveled a glare at me. “Watch it, son,” the short
one said. “No need to be an asshole to us.”

  “Whatever,” I grumbled.

  “We’ll be in touch. We’re going to try and figure out who her dealer was.”

  I nodded as they walked out the door. Long after they pulled away, I was still there, my phone clutched in my hand. We had to plan a funeral for my mother. I had to tell my sister that her mother was dead. I had to tell Cassandra that I was a fuckup. I pulled up my sister’s number and pressed call, then collapsed onto the bench behind me. I buried my face in my free hand.

  “Hey, Jax,” she said. Ry sounded happy and carefree. I was about to ruin that.

  “Ry, I’m so sorry.” The tears fell again. I couldn’t stop them or the fucking ache that was eating my chest alive. “I’m so sorry, Ry.”

  “What happened?” she asked, sounding immediately on edge.

  “Mom,” I said. That was all I could get out.

  “What about Mom? You’re freaking me out, Jax. What happened?”

  “She overdosed.”

  “What?” Ry shrieked into the phone. I cringed.

  “She overdosed. She didn’t make it.”

  “Oh, my God.” I heard her sniffle. She relayed everything I said to Will and then there was rustling.

  “Jax?” Will said. Apparently Ry had handed him the phone.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too.” I hated that he was apologizing for my fuckup. “Listen, I need to call Cassandra. Just stay with Ry, okay?”

  “I will. I’m here for you, too, man.”

  “I know.” I hung up, not even bothering to say goodbye. I immediately called Cassandra.

  “Hi,” she answered.

  “Cassandra,” I said, then completely broke down. The weight of the morning, finding my mother dead, and the guilt that was eating me alive was too much to handle.

  “Jax? Are you okay? Where are you?” she asked, sounding panicked.

  “She’s gone, Cassie. She’s dead and it’s my fault.”

  “Who is?”

  “My mom. She’s dead.” I broke down even more. She said something, but I was too lost in my own grief. I dropped the phone on the ground and cried into my hands. I was so full of anger, guilt, and hatred. I hated that my mom had relapsed. I hated that she had died. Mostly, though? I hated that I had failed her. I should have been the one to save her.

 

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