Finding My Reason

by Claudia Burgoa

  “Tell me we’re okay,” he says against my throat, rocking against me picking up speed. His lips resting on the side of my neck.

  I grasp onto his bicep as the buildup threatens to consume my entire body. A strangled grunt escapes his throat that makes my whole body vibrate, releasing a surge of energy that pushes me to the next galaxy.

  “Hudson,” I moan as he screams my name. “Jade.”

  We stayed silent while recovering our breath. “We’ll buy tomorrow two first class tickets to the Virgin Islands. Because that’s the kind of couple we are. We are free to do whatever pleases us. No strings attached—ever.”

  “We are the kind of couple who always compromises,” I remind him. Wondering which one of the two I one I’d give up. The security of always knowing we belong to each other or having a child. “What if we pick one?”

  He shakes his head. “No, Jade. Fuck. We just agreed to hit the reset button. That means we never discuss that again—ever.”

  The air disappears. I feel suckered punch. I thought we agreed to...but once again I assumed. What am I going to do?

  “At least give me some closure,” I request, but there’s no response. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing deeply.

  • • •

  January 1st, 2016

  Somehow I wake up at dawn the next morning. My head’s fuzzy, so I can only assume I’m still drunk. Regardless, I couldn’t sleep well for a reason—Hudson. I’ve been ignoring this nagging feeling for weeks that I’m kidding myself here. He doesn’t want to get married. He barely spent time with me since I brought up the subject. We can’t make plans to travel. Heck, he won’t even spend a Sunday with me. Last year, we were making out on the Eiffel Tower, ringing in the New Year. Every year we spend this day in a different country promising the next will be more spectacular. Except for this year, we didn’t.

  We had sex, and suddenly he mentions buying first class tickets to the Virgin Islands. But only when he thought that I had agreed to stop bringing up the marriage/children subject. He can’t treat me like that when things aren’t going his way. I just voiced my desires twice in the past couple of months. Held my tongue for a couple of years. Swallowed the sudden tears after realizing the Eiffel Tower visit was only that, a visit. Not a proposal. Am I getting too old for him? His girlfriend is no longer a free-spirited Twinkie looking for her next adventure somewhere around the globe. She wants a family. Husband, a kid or two, maybe a house and why not, a dog. I guess it didn’t use to matter that he didn’t talk about settling down. I didn’t question it because I was sure he would broach the subject when the time was right.

  Am I doing the right thing? Staying in a relationship where I will only get this and never what I want? What will happen when I no longer make him happy? Am I happy? Fuck, what’s going on with me? That’s not the Jade I want to be.

  I think somewhere along the lines of babysitting Michael and Wyatt around all summer and barely seeing Hudson, I started to wonder how wrong it was. Why was I floating around being everyone’s part-time something? Part-time nanny/aunt, part-time lover, part-time best friend; what have I done for me lately? When was the last time I did something because I wanted to and didn’t have to?

  I can’t remember the last time my plans weren’t made to accommodate for someone else. My gaze slips from his strong body to his perfect face. We’re never going to get past this. I can’t keep doing this to myself. It has to end. Today. I have to do something drastic, for me.

  I carefully slink out of bed, slowly enough that Hudson doesn’t stir. I pick my phone off the wood floor, texting Libby quickly.

  911, come to get me.

  She never puts her phone on silent—she can’t afford to with her job. I know she’ll text me when she’s on her way and that it’ll take her a half an hour to get here. I have to make this quick. What do I even have to pack? Clothing, my books, a few decorations here and there...and I can’t forget my stuff for work.

  I creep slowly to the closet. Thank goodness it’s a walk-in. I close the door behind me, setting my phone down on a shelf. Grabbing my largest suitcase, I unzip it and lay it in the middle of the closet. I grab as many hanging clothes as possible, pulling them up and off the rack carefully. The last thing I need is for something to come crashing down in here, waking Hudson, no doubt. Lowering myself carefully, I fold over the clothes (hangers still on) and into the suitcase. There’s enough room to grab the two shelves of winter clothing and underwear that are definitely mine.

  Once that’s filled with my main wardrobe, I use my week-long luggage to house all of my shoes. I’m a fan of practical and sporty footwear, so I only have a few pairs of cute shoes to worry about breaking or tearing in transit, which means I don’t feel guilty about stuffing some mementos I have out in the living room in here. I almost forget to grab my phone. Libby’s already responded with a simple reply.

  Libby: I’ll be there in 25 min.

  I take a deep breath, opening the door slowly to see if he’s awake yet. He’s turned toward the window. I push the closet door open wider, one suitcase in each hand. Thankfully the bedroom door is open, so I won’t chicken out. To ensure he doesn’t wake up while I finish packing, I close the door behind me.

  I remember there are a few cardboard boxes in the closet of one the guest rooms. “Leave it to Hudson to be overly prepared to move,” I tell myself when I find a huge stack of brand new packing boxes. He even kept the generic roll of tape that was included in this. I wonder how old this stuff is. The sound of prying the packing tape apart makes me cringe. I can’t be this paranoid. If I take forever, he’s going to catch me.

  I know I’m a coward for leaving without a proper goodbye, but I’m scared he’ll ask me to stay, that I won’t know how to say no and in ten years we’ll be in this exact same spot again. Or that he’ll help me pack and let me know how he truly feels. I flinch, realizing the awful situation and how my childhood insecurities are taking the best of me.

  Leave, I repeat. Find yourself before you lose yourself. I scribble a quick note. I’m not expecting him to understand. I’m not even expecting him to forgive me. He might not even care for all I know. I love him more than anyone or anything...but I can’t love him more than I need to love myself. There’s a smidge of hope inside me. Hope that in time, we’ll figure something out. Is it too selfish of me to not want him out of my life?

  I make do with the time I have left. I can’t sort through everything right now. I might have to leave stuff behind. While trying to put together another box to pack my boxes, I almost miss the soft knock on the door.

  “One second,” I whisper, closing the box. Lifting it, I walk over to the door. It’s a little heavy but oh well. I’m in a rush. I unlock the door but can’t see over the box. Someone grabs it.

  “I got it, Jade,” a feminine voice whispers. I can see Libby standing next to the box, so I can only assume Heather, her daughter, is who carries the box.

  “Did he touch you?” Libby gives me a quick hug before checking me over for any injuries. She worries too much.

  “I’m fine,” I insist. “Hud has always treated me with love and respect.”

  “What else are we grabbing?” My childhood best friend looks around the apartment.

  “Just the suitcases.” I point at where they stand next to me.

  “All right, I’ll grab the larger one. Let’s take the elevator.” She leaves me no room to protest.

  The last thing I do before I close the door is tack the note I wrote Hudson onto the fridge. I found an old magnet of ours, the first one we collected. I want him to be able to keep some evidence of our love, a memento from when we were happy, and he loved me. As we take the elevator down from the sixth floor, Libby catches my attention. “Are you sure, Jade?”

  Libby consoled me a few weeks back while I drank all her red wine and sobbed about our argument.

  “I should leave him,” I said.

  “Leave him,” she repeated.

  “But if I do,
I’ll break us both.”

  I refused to quit somehow, fighting mattered.

  Until now, when I realized I had lost the fight long ago.

  I blink at her for a moment, wondering whether or not I should tell her more. “No, I’m not. But whatever I do will be the wrong thing to do—or the right one. I only know I’m losing myself. The situation is killing me slowly.”

  “We’ll figure this out,” Libby says cheerfully. “We always figure out a way to find our Jade and bring her home. The fucker will regret not treating my bestie right.”

  She smiles as the elevator doors open and Heather, her daughter, leads the way. “Yes, we always figure out life and go on.”

  I still can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m turning my back on the only man I’ve loved. I can’t rely on him anymore and hope his affection can tide me over from one day to the next. I have to stand on my own two feet. I need to be there for myself.

  I blink back tears. We deserve to be loved by someone who really understands us and wants the same things we want. He’ll find a woman who will be enough for him. I’ll...be happy. Finding happiness and peace for myself should be my next goal.

  As we reach their car I halt, because just like we both deserve love, we also deserve respect. The least I should do is talk to him and say a proper goodbye.

  Chapter 21

  Hudson

  I’m greeted to a new year with a roaring headache. I faintly remember the eighth and final drink I had last night as I try to shield my eyes from the blinding daylight leaking through the bedroom curtains. It takes me a few minutes to gain my composure and finally open my eyes. I’ve been pretty quiet, so I assume Jade is still sound asleep next to me. I look over to the left side of the bed. The sheets are tousled toward my side and cold. She definitely left the bed long time ago. Shit. What time is it?

  “Babe?” I call out toward the main room. Nothing. Absolute silence.

  If she were anyone else, I would assume she was making breakfast as a pleasant surprise. But the woman hates to cook when she has a major hangover. I decide to get up and investigate her absence. She might be passed out on the floor for all I know. I check the bathroom, walk-in closet, the living room, and even the guest room where she sleeps when we have had a fight.

  Nothing.

  Where the fuck could she be?

  I check my phone to see if she left me a message, but my attention diverts with the sound of the front door opening.

  “You okay?” She lifts a shoulder and shakes her head. Her eyes look hollow and red. The spark inside her is lost. What happened? We fixed our shit yesterday. Didn’t we? Was I that drunk and made up the entire night? “What’s going on, beautiful?”

  She closes the door and leans against it. “Everything, nothing.” Her incoherent response makes my chest tighten. “Remember when we started this, us?”

  “I remember everything about us. From the moment I saw you at Brody’s wedding to...right now.” Her question doesn’t settle well in my stomach, but I fake a big smile and try to humor her. “Is there something you need to revisit? Or would you like to know my favorite moments? Let me guess, this is part of some New Year’s Day ritual. You wake up at the crack of fucking dawn and reminisce about your past.”

  She shakes her head, biting her lip. The shitty lines I said didn’t break her hard shell. Why does she have a shell? What is wrong? It’s not the lack of sleep or the hangover from yesterday. My heart stops as I think about the shitty situation we’ve been living for the past few weeks. Since she decided we’re not enough for each other. I want what we already have, she wants... We are so perfect together. Why is she doing this to us?

  “Are you happy?” I don’t move or breathe, waiting for more. A hint of what’s going on, or her next question. Because the solemn tone is scaring me to the point of having flashbacks about my mother’s departure. Her eyes study me her chin quivers slightly. “Are you?”

  Say yes, just say yes.

  “What’s going on, Jade?” I can’t lie. I can’t say I’m happy because ever since she brought the subject of marriage, I’m avoiding her. Every morning I find a good excuse to leave early, and every night I stay in the office late to avoid her. A crazy behavior because I miss her. Fuck, I miss her laugh and her skin against mine. The words I love you don’t make it out again. It’s been almost a month since I said them last. Something stops me from doing it. It happened right after she asked about our future. My stupid logic is telling me that if I don’t say it, she’ll stop craving more than what I’m willing to give her. Aren’t we enough? Why does she need a paper to prove we love each other? I love her fearless; she just doesn’t understand it.

  QFuck, even my best friend has brought up the matter into our conversations. Everyone around us is waiting for me to propose. “Why are you asking that question?”

  “I’ve been trying.” Her voice is a whisper in the wind, like the last strand of hope before the world ends. “So hard, because life with you is...you make me so happy, Hud. I never thought I could love someone the way I love you, but there’s a part of me that feels incomplete.”

  I rub my forehead with my index finger. “The fucking marriage thing again? Let me guess, you still want to add the baby and the picket fence, don’t ya?”

  “You don’t have to be cruel about it, Hudson.” She doesn’t change her tone. “Yes, the baby and the picket fence were included. Some nights I dream of this little girl with curly hair like yours, light green eyes and a toothy smile.” She yearns. Jade's mentioned her before as if calling her to come to us. “Each person has a different dream, traces a different journey and walks the trail that will lead them to happiness.”

  She extends her palms and sets them into a T. “Our relationship has reached a crossroads. There’s no easy way to say this, but neither one of us wants to take the other’s trail.”

  The thumping inside my head doesn’t let me think straight. “So it’s your way or the highway.” I hear a growl, and I believe that it’s me, but I’m not sure because whoever is speaking for me isn’t me anymore. I’m hiding behind the couch waiting for her to leave because I’m not enough for her. “Then it’s the highway, Jade, because I’m not changing my tune.”

  “No, I’d never ask you to change, Hudson,” she continues, not understanding that every word she’s saying is an arrow shot through my heart. “This man, the one who loves his freedom and doesn’t believe in a family, isn’t who I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

  Her chin drops, her gaze focused on the coffee table. “Your behavior after what I said is hurting me. We barely talk to each other. You avoid me.” She shakes her head. “I’m breaking little by little, and before I lose myself, I have to leave.”

  “No.” It’s a cry, a plea, the sound of a wounded animal who is dying because they’re ripping his heart out of his chest. “Jade, you have me. What else do you need? Why can’t you understand that I don’t want to sign a paper that says we’re together? Things can change quickly. If they do, you can leave without the nasty after taste of a divorce.

  “Children? I already raised Jenna since she was born until... Been there, done that,” I continue explaining my reasons to why her requests are never going to happen. Pleading my case for the last time before she sentences me to life without her. “After what I went through, I don’t want to have to deal with a woman who can up and leave and a child I will be attached to for the rest of my life.”

  She sobs louder while snorting. Tears cascade down her cheeks, and the pain she emanates breaks my heart as much as the pain she’s causing me. Why are we doing this to each other? “I went through lots of families when I was little. It was so easy for them to push me away because there was no paper that will say I belong to them.” Clearing the tears with the sleeve of her jacket, she walks to the living room wall and takes her framed adoption certificate. What the hell? Is she really leaving? Then, her attention turns back to me. “See my point? Our lives are taking a different shape. We
’re no longer making each other happy. I’m tired of walking on eggshells, remaining silent and doing what will make Hudson Drago happy—a happy for now kind of story. Jade deserves her happy ending too. If we don’t stop while we are ahead, we’ll hurt each other more and reach a point where we’ll hate each other.”

  Rachel Drago was a bitch, but a wise woman. She said it well when she was leaving me. Never let anyone change who you are.

  “So you decided to leave me?” I ask the obvious. “Or is this some plot to make me change my mind and having me drop on one knee and beg you to marry me?”

  “I decided to respect you and stop becoming a burden to you. Trying to make you happy is killing me on the inside.” Her words freeze my body, my chest hurts, my stomach turns over. She’s leaving. “Walking away with the self-respect I have left. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

  “If you leave, don’t come back,” I threaten her with the only words I know will shake her. “Once you close the door behind, we become strangers. Think twice before you choose our destiny.”

  She walks toward me, standing on her tiptoes and stretching her neck. I take a step backward, avoiding her kiss. With a flinch, she angles her head as if I had slapped her.

  “Goodbye, Hudson.”

  Jade leaves without her things.

  As the door closes, I hear the cracking of my heart breaking into pieces. My worst nightmare has come true. Jade Noelle Vance left me. No, it’s impossible. She knows how much I love her, how much she means to me. I can’t live without her. My heart calms when I think about her stuff. She’s coming back. This is a simple misunderstanding. She’ll come to her senses. It took eight years for us to finally come together, she wouldn’t let everything we built waste away. Please, we love each other, don’t we? I go to our bedroom closet; it looks empty. Practically empty, that is. It’s missing all of her things. How didn’t I notice this earlier? I decide to check the entire house. Almost everything she owns is gone. Her shell collection is the only thing left.