by S. L. Scott
Taylor needed to think this through, to figure out what was really going on, but deep down he knew any conclusion he came to wouldn’t make a difference to the outcome.
She was convinced what she was doing was right. He’d seen the conviction in her eyes. “I have my wife taken away because I’m sick. I have my life taken away because she’s sick. The legal system has failed me. I have no idea what I’m going to do.”
JUDE WALKED INTO the pink bedroom and found documents on the vanity where her brother’s photo used to be. She sat down and looked at them.
Her back stiffened when she heard her stepfather’s voice behind her, “Sign the document.”
She looked at him in the mirror. “I don’t care about the money. You can have it all. If I sign it all away, can I go free today?”
“Judith, how would that look to the courts. I can’t just have you going around, of sound mind, and telling all our secrets. The deal stands as is. One year. No one will be the wiser.” He sat down on the bed as if they were friends. “You know, Judith, I didn’t plan any of this. My brother was weak—of mind. He promised he would stop… He promised, but he didn’t. Guilt got to him before I could have. You were never meant to be a pawn, but when he killed himself, an opportunity was presented. Your aunt and I had plans. We loved each other back then.”
A shudder of shock rolled through her. An image of her mother behind Hazel in court came to mind. Is this why she chose the better side? “You don’t love my mother?”
“I love her, but she’s soft. We didn’t plan this. Leslie came to me—”
“Leslie? You’re blaming her? You sent me away to be tortured. You sent me away for money—blood money, guilt money, dirty, hate-filled money.” She held up the papers and said, “I would have given you this money years ago if I had known about it. I would have rather had my life.”
“You tried to kill yourself twice. Now you say you wanted life? I spared your life. I saved your life.”
“You saved me to get the money. You’ve played this all wrong. Don’t you see?”
Standing up, he said, “I see a spoiled little girl who wants a shiny new toy. But Taylor Barrett will never be yours until every last cent is mine and safely in my bank account.” He walked to the door that had no lock. “Sign the papers, Judith. This game is exhausting, so do us both a favor and sign.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“Sign the damn contract!” His harsh glare softened though not friendly in any way. “I’ll keep my word, but in the meantime, the Barrett boy is off limits.”
His name is Hazel. She gulped.
Too much pain.
“Your word has no value to me.”
“Don’t push me.” He walked out and slammed the door behind him.
Jude looked down at the contract again. They had been very clever, different names up top, varying amounts transferred. But she had no way to fight back, nothing and no one truly in her corner to help, so she picked up the pen and signed, taking her trust and handing it over to the people she hated most.
One year.
Her life for his.
But what if he would no longer be hers?
JUDE WORE JEANS. She never wore jeans, but then again, she had never set out to break someone’s heart before. Again. Break his heart again. Looking in the mirror, her face was sallow and her cheeks sunken in. She had not been eating much and it was wearing on her physically. Emotionally she could have cared less about food.
Hazel was the only sustenance she needed and he was no longer there. She knew she had to let him go. She just needed to hear his voice one last time.
Walking downstairs, she saw Roman in the foyer. He turned and gave her the gloomiest look, one that kind of summed up her predicament. She sat on the bottom step and he sat down next to her. “Where you going, Hummingbird?”
“To appease the court. As of this morning, I’ve been granted some freedoms. To appease my family, I will only be gone for a short time.”
“And to appease you?”
“I’ll break my heart to spare Hazel any more pain.”
“Won’t that break his?”
It would. And she knew it, but selfishly, she needed one last time to say goodbye. And it couldn’t be here. Not in her prison. It had to be where she had felt free. Alive. Herself. Jude. His Jude.
Jude dropped her head down in shame, her weakness exposed to one of the few people who believed her to be stronger. She wiped at her eyes before the tears could build. She was tired of crying. When she looked back up, she asked, “Why do you work here? Why do you work for people that I can tell you despise? Why do you stay?”
As if the answer was obvious, he said, “For you. If I’m not here, who will you have?”
“Kind of says it all.” She stood up, using the railing to lean on. When he stood, she said, “I free you, my friend. The burden of myself will no longer be. Leave. Find a good family with happy children and loving parents who are just too busy to have dinner ready on time. Take care of people who will be grateful for you and your loyalty.”
“You’re grateful.”
“I am, but I’m the only one.” She walked to the door. “I’ll be seeing you.”
“You’re coming back, right, Hummingbird?”
“The bird always returns to its cage.” The door opened and the bright June day was too yellow for how blue she felt. She went anyway.
Taking the long way, she headed toward the park. She thought about going to his apartment, but knew that would be too cruel. Too many beautiful memories there, a blaring reminder of the happy life she almost had. Instead she headed for their favorite bench by walking around the park instead of through. When she finally sat down, she pulled the phone from her pocket and made the first call on the phone she had never used before.
Her heart hurt when he answered, “Hello?”
She seemed to choke on her breath as it stopped and all words disappeared from her head. But her heart knew… her heart knew she couldn’t do this to him. She couldn’t give him hope when there was none. She couldn’t give him a way of reaching her, even if her heart desperately wanted that. It wasn’t fair to him.
“Hello?” he repeated, sounding less patient.
This was going to be the hardest thing she had ever done and she couldn’t have his soothing voice seeping into her veins any longer. Two weeks had been painful enough, but it was a start and she owed him that much, if not more, to get his life back on track.
She hung up.
Why was she even here? Why did she call? Was she so adrift in her addiction to him that she needed just one more hit of his human kindness? Just one more taste? One more touch? Would she really have asked him to come find her only to turn him away again? No. She couldn’t. Wouldn’t. She couldn’t drag him through this, opening the same wounds again. And hers. When all she thought she needed to say had already been said. When her phone rang back, she looked at the screen and the number that appeared. Her heart wrestled with what the right thing to do was and she ghosted her finger over the screen, careful not to answer it.
“Goodbye, my love,” she whispered and the phone stopped ringing.
Breathing turned difficult as her heart collapsed in on itself. She wished she could be swallowed up with it. That would be less painful than the loneliness she now felt.
Maybe he’d only been a dream. That was easier to imagine. He was a part of her, inside her, a man that only existed to exist inside her.
But the severed organ that fought for survival in her chest said otherwise. He existed. He had to. He was her light. Had been. And how could there be dark if there was no light, even if it didn’t exist in her world any longer.
As she walked, there was no doubt in her mind that she had hurt him outside the courthouse. What a mess I’ve made. And now, even honesty couldn’t get them any closer than they were right this moment.
The marriage had been annulled. He could now find someone who didn’t have to live in fear of retaliation, in a state of distress
looking for peace, someone who could give him the family he deserved.
But for her, she wanted something simpler. She looked up at the puffy clouds in the blue sky and wished she could go to that place that doesn’t exist, the one Hazel spoke of as if it were real. Daydreaming had been her life for so long that she couldn’t believe she no longer had the ability. It had been lost somewhere in the last two weeks. Daydreaming had become a dangerous pastime once her dreams were realized. She didn’t know how fragile those dreams really were until they were twisted and destroyed while she held them in her hands. She took the remains and sprinkled them over her heart, hoping to feed the delicate seeds and maybe one day her dreams could bloom again.
But not today.
When she walked out of the park she made a right. Taking a left would lead to her house, but she needed more time before returning to her personal prison.
Three blocks up she waited on the corner to cross the street. Her mind was on other things when someone called, “Judith.”
She cowered and scanned her immediate surroundings, flinching her first reaction. A woman waved her hand from the other corner. At first she checked behind her, then when she saw the woman walking toward her it clicked. “Nurse Lacy? I didn’t recognize you out of uniform.”
Lacy laughed. “I get that sometimes. But yeah,” she said, shrugging, “they let me out of that place every once in a while.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she clasped her hand over it. Lowering it again, she took hold of Jude’s arm gently. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t worry. I knew what you meant.”
Lacy looked concern. “Have you been crying?”
“Feels like my whole life.” The words reminded her of Hazel and how he told his parents that very same thing the day they met.
When Jude’s eyes started to water, Lacy wrapped her arm in Jude’s and declared, “You look like you can use a friend. We’re going for coffee.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“Then tell me. Coffee is on me.”
Jude didn’t know what to think of this young nurse. On one hand, she instantly liked her and was drawn to her joy. On the other hand, she was suppressing the fear bubbling inside her from seeing someone from Bleekman’s. “I’m not sure that’s allowed. Patients and nurses hanging out? Sure-fire way to get in trouble.”
She put her finger to her mouth, and said, “I won’t tell if you won’t.” She continued with pep in her step and practically dragged Jude down the street until they came to a French bistro that opened to a patio out back. They were seated at a small round table. Lacy continued to smile at Jude while she placed her napkin in her lap. “How are you? I know that’s a broad question, but I’ve been worried ever since you left the center.”
“I was more worried being there, personally.”
“I’m sorry you had such a bad experience.” She leaned in and whispered, “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’ve wanted to for a long time—”
“What shouldn’t you tell me?” Jude was direct, the hair on her arms rising as her nerves started twisting in her stomach.
“I’ve researched your case and tried to talk to Dr. Conroy on your behalf. But they seem set on the early tests they did years ago on you.” Her eyes shifted left, then right, before centering back on Jude. “I think there was a misdiagnosis when you were first admitted.”
Jude smiled. “If their tests are wrong, what do you think is wrong with me?”
The waiter walked up and took their drink order as well as handed them menus. They quickly looked it over and Jude ordered a chocolate croissant. Lacy ordered the bread pudding, then when they were alone again, she said, “I don’t think you’re insane, or unstable, or crazy, like they say, like your chart says.”
“Then what am I?”
“You tell me, Judith.”
The ladies held their gaze until the waiter returned with their drinks, setting them down in front of them. “I’m not crazy. The drugs make me crazy. They fog my brain.” Lacy nodded in understanding as Jude continued, “Sometimes I wish I was crazy so I didn’t care so much, so I could escape this reality once and for all.”
Reaching across the table, Lacy covered Jude’s hand with her own. The gesture was reassuring and Jude felt more and more comfortable with her. Lacy confessed, “I can find another job, but I feel like my patients need me there. For some, I’m their only advocate. I can be one for you as well if you tell me what’s wrong.”
She hesitated, not used to opening up, much less to someone who worked at her own personal hell, but something in Lacy’s eyes—maybe the sympathetic kindness she saw—made her trust the nurse. “My marriage was annulled and we’re no longer together.”
“What?” she asked, dropping back. “How can that be? That’s not possible. I thought—”
“You thought what?” Jude asked, curious to hear her thoughts.
“I could tell how much you loved each other. I could tell how much he loved you.”
“My family didn’t agree.”
“Who cares about them? You can’t lose love like that.”
“I didn’t lose it. I was backed into a corner and had to sign it away.”
“I don’t understand.” The waiter walked by and set down their food.
“Lacy…” she started, but stopped, not knowing if she could tell the lies anymore. She wasn’t numb. Every last emotion was clogging her arteries and making her heart throb all at once. “My family has been blackmailing me for years for my inheritance.”
Lacy’s mouth dropped open and she gasped.
Jude said, “Dr. Conroy is being paid to keep me insane.”
She double blinked at Jude, and then again. Her hand was back over her mouth as she stared at the woman in front of her. When her hand came down, Lacy took a sip of coffee as she processed the accusations laid before her. But then did something surprising.
Her finger flew straight up, her elbow stationed on the table. “I knew it!” A thrill flashed through her eyes. “My gut instinct knew it, but no one would listen to me.”
She. Believed. Jude. She believed me.
“I’m very familiar with nobody listening. I’ve been shouting it for years, but somehow I’ve never been heard.”
“I’m hearing you now. I became a nurse to help people. Maybe I can help you.”
TAYLOR SAT INSIDE a hotel ballroom at a round table for ten. August 18th. His parents were on one side and Katherine on the other. The band played as the two-thousand-dollar-a-person plate was taken away. He ate two bites, but had no appetite. Katherine smiled watching the band, then put her hand on his arm. “You’re not hungry? You should eat. You need food to keep up your energy.”
He didn’t reply. Taylor had discovered weeks ago that conversation existed around him whether he participated or not. And ever since his parents found out about the marriage and the annulment, the court case, and restraining order, they were determined to help him get over the loss of his heart, but failed to notice he was dying a slow death without it. Without her. Some people were more persistent than others.
Like Katherine. “Did you hear me, honey?”
This time he did respond, “Yes.”
“What’s wrong? Do you want to dance or get another drink?”
Wordlessly, he stood up and started walking. Away from Katherine and his parents, away from the table and two-thousand-dollar-a-person plates of food, away from this fundraiser that besieged him—all the things that were smothering him with their laughter and happiness. It was all too much.
Too much pain.
The architect walked right through the double doors of the ballroom and down to the lobby. He made it out onto the sidewalk and took his first deep breath all night.
“Taylor? Wait.”
And then his breath stopped, strangling his lungs.
His hands began to tremble. He took one step to get away and his legs gave out on him. Gasps were heard as he fell to his hands and knees
to the concrete. Pandemonium surrounded him as two men righted him. Katherine was directing them to a nearby bench, and Taylor let them drag him, unable to make the move himself. When he was secured, they left, but Katherine remained until the ambulance arrived. Worry marked her face quite nicely. Maybe she really does care about me.
The chaos that engulfed him that night was not the chaos he craved. He was hooked to monitors. An IV was next to his bed, dripping straight into his veins. Nurses flitted about, as Katherine fluffed his pillow, and sat next to him gossiping about mutual friends of theirs, friends he didn’t consider real friends.
He wanted ice cream in the middle of winter and jellybeans in baked goods that had no business being there. He missed the element of surprise. He missed the curve of her waist where it meets her hips. He missed those damn blue-green eyes that stayed the same when her clothes changed. He missed Jude. He missed her and that pain was far worse than any his body could inflict. As long as his mind was intact, the image of the girl in the chartreuse dress and snow boots would haunt his memories, his dreams, his waking hours, and his dying days.
Instead, he was offered blue gelatin as if he should be happy. Katherine said, “I told them you didn’t eat much at dinner. That might be causing this. I told them. Just a sugar dip. They suggested you eat this.”
He turned his head in anger, his voice tight. “This isn’t a fucking sugar dip. I’m not a diabetic. I have Parkinson’s.” He paused to stare at her. “Isn’t that your cue to leave?”
“Don’t get snippy with me, Taylor. I’m only trying to help.”
He huffed, wanting to throw something or punch a wall to get this pent-up aggression out somehow. Taking it out on a woman who was clueless wasn’t satisfying his need. He turned away from her, blocking her out of his mind and getting her out of his sight.
She got the hint… finally, and went to the coffee shop down the street. Once the last nurse left the room, Taylor stared out the window. It was larger than the last hospital room’s and it faced the city instead of the roof of a dilapidated structure. The lights were off except a small lamp on the wall near the bed, but he reached up and turned it off too. The buildings outside were the only lights he wanted to see. They reminded him of Jude sitting in the chair by the window at his place. She used sit there for hours staring out. And he used to sit nearby for hours staring at her. She once called herself broken. She was this small angel with huge wings wrapped around her. She wasn’t broken. The world around her was.