Kamikaze Heart

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Kamikaze Heart Page 11

by Craze, Chelle C.


  “Get dressed and come out to the porch,” he said, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

  “Ugh,” I groaned, not wanting to get out of bed just yet.

  “I heard there might be coffee.” He knew the mention of caffeine would be the key to my motivation. Ever since I’d reentered the workforce as a nightshift nurse, it had been what carried me through many nights and long days. Eli and I were in the honeymoon phase of our relationship, which meant sex often filled the hours that most used for sleeping. I wasn’t complaining, though. The man had a gift. I had experienced orgasms before him, but not in the magnitude he could give me.

  “Okay,” I agreed and smiled again, letting the happiness we had bury me instead of the sadness that used to be in its place.

  After brushing my teeth and taming my messy bedhead down by wetting my hands and combing through my black strands, I weakly smiled into the mirror. This was as good as I was getting, at least until I could wake up a little. My hair was semi-tamed, and my eyes were ringed with tiredness, but I was awake before noon, so it was an accomplishment.

  * * *

  Eli leaned with his shoulder against one of the porch’s white pillars, and one foot was crossed behind the other, in his usual stance he took when he wanted to appear relaxed, but he was anything but that. To anyone who knew him well, he was on edge, but to outsiders, he accomplished the lie he wanted to portray and gave off an easygoing vibe.

  My approaching footsteps must have been louder than I was aware of, because he turned to face me, holding white ribbons attached to two red balloons, and nodded to the vase of wildflowers behind a book.

  “For you,” he beamed, his cheeks flushed, and this was the first time it was obvious he was unsure of himself. “The florist said this book by Clementine Floyd, Arrow of Love, was a Valentine’s Day must read. Apparently, it gives you all of the feels. Whatever that means.” He shrugged and opened his clasped hand. A Sharpie dropped, the helium in the balloon supporting its weight as it dangled in the knot on the string.

  “What are the balloons for? My eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and I took a step closer to him. Not being fully awake, my eyes hadn’t adjusted to the correct vision yet. He unwrapped the ribbons from his index finger and looped them loosely around my wrist.

  Eli didn’t speak. He only pointed up to the sky and lightly kissed my cheek.

  “What’s the marker for?”

  “A message. I want you to do this for you. And for Armon,” he admitted, pure love emitting from his words. My breath caught in my throat, and my lips smashed together as wetness touched my eyes. “Tell him what you didn’t get to or what you did. Just tell him,” he cautiously spoke, not wanting to overstep.

  “Thank you,” I quietly sobbed, shaking my head and sucking on my bottom lip as I sniffed. He knew exactly what he was doing, giving me the closure I never got. Armon’s death was abrupt, and although I was unconditionally in love with Eli, how I felt about myself varied each day.

  I nodded slowly, pulling the marker out of its lid. My mind raced with a million things I wanted to tell my son. Making up my mind, I pressed the tip of the marker to the balloon’s edge, and as my eyes zeroed in onto the contents, disbelief forced fresh tears down my face.

  “Eli,” I barely said, the marker squeaking in protest against the balloon’s surface as I unintentionally drew one long black line down the first balloon, stilling it in my hand to look at the confetti. “They’re tiny Rubik’s Cubes. How?” I questioned him, unable to process how much time and thought this gift must have taken. I hadn’t thought he’d paid attention when I said it was the last thing Armon played with, but he had. Some roads you took broke you, and others, like the one that led me to Eli, took a while for the dust to settle, but once it did, it was worth the wait.

  I forced my eyes to focus through the fog of tears and shook the balloons. The tiny cubes glistened under the sunlight’s touch that barely reached the porch and gave life to the love I shared with my son once again. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” I cried tears of happiness and also sadness. If love taught me anything, it was unrelenting, and no matter how hard you fought it, it was there.

  “I think so,” he joked in a chipper morning person tone, and my eyes flickered to him momentarily. “I kid. So are you.”

  “What are you going to write?”

  “The truth,” I honestly admitted, my hand going to work, hoping there was enough room for what I had to say.

  “Armon, my baby boy. My life. Thank you for teaching me it was okay. That I was okay. It might have taken me more time than I will ever admit to you when we see each other again to realize that, but I have. I love you more than I can ever express, definitely more than I could write on these two balloons.” I paused long enough to lift the marker and pressed its felt tip against the second balloon.

  “I hope these balloons find you, so you can finally crack the code to these Rubik’s Cubes. There are plenty, so if you can’t figure out one, move on to the next. Maybe ask God for some help. I bet He knows the secret. You take care of everyone up there, and I will take care of Alf. Thank you for sending this man to love me. I love you—Momma.” I signed the second balloon, closing my eyes, allowing myself this brief moment to grieve Armon once more before releasing the balloons into the sky.

  I wept as the helium-filled declarations evaporated into the light blue atmosphere and said a small goodbye to my son. I would never forget him. It wasn’t possible and I never wanted to, but Eli gave me a semblance of closure I never thought possible. I loved this gift and the undeniable amount of thought and consideration it took to make it. My wounds of loss would never completely heal and close, but as long as Eli and I were together, they wouldn’t bleed with excruciating pain either. When I met Eli, I figured the world was done with me and I had taken all the brutal abuse I could withstand, which was true. But, now, I welcomed each new day with hope, knowing every day wouldn’t be easy, but it would absolutely overflow with love.

  About the Author

  A native West Virginian, Chelle has always been a dreamer. She spent her time growing up writing songs, poetry, screenplays, and movie scripts. She never thought about writing a book until she got older. Now, Chelle likes to spend her time being creative by drawing, singing, dancing, writing, and enjoying life with her daughter. True to her last name, she lives life to the fullest, but can be described as a little crazy. She finds peace and comfort in the fictional characters residing within her mind.

  Her greatest blessings and inspirations are her husband and daughter.

  Visit her website, www.ChelleCCraze.com, or find her on social media.

  For more information:

  Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/CrazyAsChelle

  That’s all, you Crazed Lunatics!

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to everyone who has made this publication possible.

  To the readers, bloggers, fellow authors, and everyone in the book community: Thank you for letting me be a part of our ever-changing world. Each sleepless day or night, depending on the time, that is spent as a mombie, stumbling around until I’ve had a sufficient amount of coffee is worth it!

  Harmony: Mama loves you more than anything in this world! My love for you is stronger than the rain in a blinding storm. You’ll always be my sunshine, Baby Bug, and best friend. Watching you grow is the greatest blessing in the world. Second to you, of course! The sass you grew into today on January 28, 2019 was one that took me by surprise, but I hope it fills each day as you grow and experience life. As I said today, thank you for being patient as Mommy finished this book, in hopes our future will be better. Our life won’t always be filled with an abundance of happiness nor will they be easy, but they will absolutely overflow with love.

  Paige Maroney Smith: I can’t say thank you enough. When we connected so many years ago, I could have never imagined what was to come. You’re always so patient with me, and even though your honesty may come with a fea
r and apprehension, it’s always appreciated.

  To my street team, Crazed Lunatics: Thank you for every share, like, word of encouragement, and for just being you. Y’all are my people and my tribe. #AreYouALunatic #CrazyAsChelle

  Letha Gene: I’m so proud of you! You finished your first book today and sent it to my love, Paige. Good luck with it, and I hope the indie community welcomes you with open arms as it has me. I love you, Seester, and always will.

  Lisa Vitous: Girl, I can’t thank you enough for constantly being there for me! You’re amazing and your organizational skills baffle me. Lol. Maybe one day I’ll learn. I have a planner, right? Thank you for all of the shares and time you put into my cover release today. I hope I did these characters the justice they deserve.

  Cheri Marie, Jaime Russell, Melissa Pascoe, Shannon White, Michelle Schwartz, Gretchen Anderson, Tammy Becraft, Chris Jewell, April Johnson, Tammy McGowan, and everyone else I’ve randomly messaged at some random hour or just sent portions of this manuscript to: I apologize in advance for the next book I jump into…because you know I’ll have questions. Thank you all for everything. I love you, jive cats!

  Chashiree M., Sadie Grubor, Clementine Floyd, DC Renee, and Jaime Russell: Thank you for allowing me to take part in the Cupid’s Aim project with you all.

  Lastly, Mr. Craze: I love you so much. Even on the days I’m unbearable, remember that. Your dedication to support our family and let me live the dream of staying home with our daughter while writing all the words is the best thing a weirdo like me could want.

 

 

 


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