Regret made it difficult to sleep. I understood right then and there why James talked. Why he risked showing that part of himself to me despite his fears and insecurities. He put himself out there to eliminate the barriers. I hadn’t done that. I never put myself out there for him to take, to keep, and to eventually hurt. There were moments in life I wish I could do over. Small things, big things, that one time I should have worn a different pair of shoes. And then there were moments like this, huge things, monumental life-altering things. I should have taken a chance. Just one chance. I fell anyway and now look where I was. Clutching a man’s pillow while he ran from me, no doubt in an effort to save himself.
I saved myself.
And now all I had was me. That used to be enough, still was to some degree. Why did I need anyone else other than Rain? Friendships, men, coworkers—these were transitory relationships on the way to nowhere. I hadn’t known how lost I was until I stopped to look around. I was going nowhere fast, barreling toward a wall with no one around to stop me. I just wished someone would step out in front of me and pull me out of the way. Or hop in beside me and ride this out until we both exploded.
We could pick each other up. I’d pick up his heart and he’d pick up mine and together we’d put back the pieces. Not where they had been originally, but we couldn’t expect that. As long as the pieces existed we’d be okay. Not perfect, but we probably never had been.
Reaching for perfection was a twisted game we played with ourselves.
I was done playing games.
Chapter Sixteen
James
What I felt waking up the next morning could rival any hangover I’ve ever had.
An emotional hangover.
I smirked at myself and rolled onto my back.
My smirk fell swiftly, leaving behind the same feeling from the night before. I felt too much, which subsequently made me feel nothing at all. I was broken and numb, empty and too full. My head was pounding and my eyes burned. I recalled little pieces from yesterday, refusing to remember the entire picture. Packing, driving, and then Uma’s herbal tea, which had smelled funny now that I had time to think about it. The woman had drugged me to sleep. Images of her coaxing me up the ladder to my old loft bedroom, still the way I left it, and then fading into unconsciousness filtered into my sober brain.
Instead of getting out of bed, I lay there, tracing the wooden beams in the ceiling over and over, back and forth. Sunlight came in through the small window overhead, leaving the other side of the loft in darkness. It was difficult not to remember in this spot. I spent so much time in this same position, running from the things that plagued me still. My body ached past my indifference, but it was my heart that really hurt.
Images assaulted me endlessly. My mother’s boyfriend was starting to get clearer. The protective block my mind put in place was staring to wear off. I could see his oily hair and the outline of his face as he ridiculed and beat me. And though that was pain, knowing my mother lay there and let it happen was its own kind of forever pain.
Something had to change. I couldn’t do this forever. It felt as if there were only two options these days. Feel everything or feel nothing. I feared there was no balance where I could feel what I wanted and not feel what I chose not to acknowledge, like it used to be. I had felt nothing, so nothing could bother me. Now I felt emotions I wasn’t used to.
The reason for that filtered into my mind slowly, like a dream you forgot but yearned to remember for years. Her golden green eyes, her soft, warm mouth, and the look of fear in her gaze before she left me yesterday.
I bolted upright in bed and dragged a hand down my face. Uma must have taken my shoes off last night. They were set near the ladder. I rolled over and pushed to my feet, squeezing my eyes shut against the throbbing in my skull.
The smell of ham and bread slowly reached my nostrils. My stomach twisted with hunger. Taking the opportunity to run, I quickly climbed down the ladder and landed on my feet in her living room. Everything still looked the same. Same olive green sofa, same hand-carved wooden coffee table, and the same rose-sewn curtains. The furniture was dated and overused, but Uma kept it clean and it was all comfortable in an odd way. I followed the smells to her small kitchen and pushed the swinging door open, inhaling deeply.
Uma looked over at me, dressed in her lavender nightgown, white hair in a messy up-do. The sunlight pouring in through the window over the sink caught her diamond wedding ring, sending shards of light into my eyes. I heard my grandfather worked twelve hour shifts in the mines for six months straight to buy her that ring before he got drafted. I wondered briefly how painful it must’ve been to lose him. The idea put a lump in my throat that I quickly swallowed away.
“Smells good,” I announced.
She nodded and then pointed at the cupboards. I was used to this setup. She cooked and I set the table. Mugs for coffee, plates, glasses for water, forks, spoons for dipping, and a knife just in case. I found the cloth napkins in their drawer and placed them where they were supposed to go on the table. In Uma’s house everything had a place, albeit an odd one, and I’d always respected that. Right now I found it comforting. Doing things without thinking was what I needed. So I grabbed the filtered water out of the fridge, filled up the glasses, topped the mugs with percolated coffee, and then took my place at the table.
Uma scooped fluffy scrambled eggs with cheese onto my plate, along with a ham slice and homemade biscuits. I ripped open the biscuit and slathered it with the homemade apple spiced butter she took out of the fridge. When I’d first came to live with Uma, the food was the best part. I gained weight like crazy and then Kent helped me lose it all before we went to high school, insisting no girl would want to sleep with the Pillsbury Dough Boy. He’d been right, of course, but that hadn’t made me okay with running in the hot Tampa heat while he flirted with girls on the bleachers.
After I’d shoved a decent amount of food into my mouth I started round two, eating most of what Uma prepared. She hadn’t made it all for herself and I knew how much she disliked waste. I hadn’t been this full since I’d taken Becca to the buffet. It felt like months ago. A time when things weren’t so…close to ending. We had an arrangement that worked for her. It hadn’t worked for me, but I didn’t think that mattered at this point. She’d been nice about my choice of restaurant. Thinking about her made it hard to swallow again.
Uma’s hand shot out and tapped my cheek. I blinked at her as her hands moved effortlessly over her question.
“How long are you staying?”
I shrugged. I hadn’t thought about it.
Her face softened. “Stay as long as you need.”
“Kent’s at his parent’s house for spring break. I’ll probably go back and forth if that’s all right with you?”
She smiled fondly at the mention of Kent. “How is he?”
“Married,” I responded with a tone I hoped conveyed all of the trouble of living with newlyweds who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
“I never thought I’d see the day someone calmed him down. Raina is the perfect girl for him. Sweet but strong.” And then she gave me a pointed look. “Have you talked to Becca?”
If looking at her wasn’t required I would have looked away. “No.”
“Won’t she worry?”
I put myself in her shoes. If she left without a word, would I be worried? Oh, who was I kidding? I felt her absence even when she was in the other room. “I don’t know.”
She frowned. “You don’t know?”
“I don’t know.”
Her frown deepened. “You don’t know, or you don’t think she’d miss you?”
“Both.”
“James,” she signed, spelling my name carefully with her agile fingers. “Contact the girl. I didn’t raise you to be inconsiderate.”
Since when was Uma this interested in my love life? I pushed a piece of ham around my plate, running it through some apple butter as I contemplated ways to escape this conve
rsation. “She’s probably better off without me.”
Uma almost glared her eyebrows off. “You have thought the worst about yourself your entire life. When you were a child you didn’t think you were worth birthday gifts, friends, or attention. Do you remember that time you got the flu? You hid it because you thought I wouldn’t care. You had a fever of a 106 when I found you on the bathroom floor, barely breathing. You promised me you wouldn’t do that to yourself anymore.”
Signed conversations took far longer than I cared for. I downed the rest of my coffee and stood. This conversation was over. “I’ll wash the dishes.”
She grabbed my arm as I reached for her plate, signing words that made it hard to breathe. “No one can love you if you don’t love you.”
When she left me alone to wash the dishes I released the tension overtaking my body. The tasks of washing, drying, and stacking kept me busy long enough to find a second’s peace.
I clutched that peace and went out to grab my things from my truck. My phone was on the seat beside my packed backpack. It was blinking like crazy. I stood under the sun and shielded my eyes to read my notifications. Texts bombarded me, one right after the other, starting tame and growing more troubled until I could feel her anxiety through the phone.
Becca: When are you coming?
Becca: It’s getting late. Why aren’t you here?
Becca: I thought we were hanging out?
Becca: I want to see you, James.
Becca: James?
Becca: Is everything okay?
Becca: It’s almost midnight. If you’re not coming let me know.
Becca: James, please.
Becca: Answer me. I’m sorry I went to work, but I don’t have a choice. I need the money.
Becca: You’re worrying me.
The last text was a little after midnight.
Becca: Please answer me James. Just say yes so I know Ur okay. Please.
Her concern made me feel strange. I was used to Kent and Uma, but having Becca worry about me felt different. Irresponsible, cruel even on my part. I’d lose my mind the other way around. What if Josh went out and she hadn’t been able to get into the apartment? Guilt crept over me.
I texted her back after I grabbed my backpack, my feet slipping in the gravel driveway on my way back into the house.
James: Yes.
I put my phone into my pocket, the weight of it like a brick. It was still early. Considering how late her shift was I assumed she’d still be sleeping.
I could pretend I could handle this, or I could pretend I wasn’t handling anything. Either way I was protecting myself from the onslaught I sensed coming. Last night wasn’t gone, despite how much I wanted it to leave. It hung in the balance, waiting to turn me upside down once more. How many more times would it get me before it was done?
Before I’d gotten inside my phone vibrated.
Becca: Please come home.
I took a seat on Uma’s porch and stared at her request. It was the same one I’d given her when we met. At the time it had been for her sake and for Raina’s. Now I had to wonder whether I’d asked for myself even then.
James: I can’t right now.
Her reply was in my inbox within seconds.
Becca: Where are you?
James: Tampa. I needed to get away.
Becca: From me?
Her question killed me. How could she ever think that?
James: Becca, you’re the only thing holding me together right now.
Becca: I can hold you together better in Jacksonville.
James: Do you want to hold me together?
Becca: Yes.
One answer. Not even a second of hesitation. A promise I’ve wanted since I was a child. I wanted her so badly in that moment I could almost smell her. But if I went home I’d fall right back into the push and pull, and though I’d take it, I didn’t think I would make it out in one piece.
My phone vibrated again.
Becca: Do you want to hold me together?
My reply was just as fast. No hesitation. One answer.
James: Yes.
Becca: I miss you.
I closed my eyes as a new emotion traveled over me. It started filling the holes. I doubted all of them would ever be filled, but one less hole was one less hole.
James: I miss you too. Where did you sleep?
Becca: In your bed. Where did you sleep?
James: At my grandmother’s. She gets it.
Becca: Gets what?
Telling her about my past made the hairs on my arms rise. I felt like puking over the railing. Running from her forever. If she knew my mother didn’t want me, how could Becca ever want me? She’d know how worthless I really was. I wouldn’t risk that. Not now. Not ever. Not even for her. What was the point in risking this secret when it didn’t even get me her? There was fear and then there was pure unadulterated terror.
James: I have to go. I’ll text later.
Before I could return my phone to my pocket her text was there.
Becca: Please tell me Ur okay. I need to know Ur okay.
James: I’m okay.
Lying was my only option.
Becca: I don’t believe you. This is so frustrating. Can I come see you? I want to see you. Ur not the only one falling apart.
It took me a second to recall my inability to deny her anything. Another second to accept the fact that I would do anything to prevent her falling. And one more to admit that if I couldn’t stop her fall I’d fall right along with her.
James: 4555 South Turn Way. The turn off is dangerous so slow down when you get into the trees. And Becca?
Becca: Yes, James?
James: If you come this is it. You’re never leaving and I’m never leaving. You’re mine. I don’t deserve you, but I want you anyway. The second you get here we’re together. No more games. No more push and pull. I’m afraid. You’re afraid. This is terrifying. But I think we can do this together. Without you I’m never going to be the same. I can’t lose you too.
As soon as I sent it my chest constricted. This was it; a tipping point that could either take this girl from me forever or finally give me someone worth falling for. Maybe even someone who held my hand during.
Becca: Should I bring the lingerie?
I closed my eyes and lifted my face to the sky. Sunlight shone down, seeping through the rafters and warming me. There was a nagging voice in the back of my head, the one that had existed forever, but this one time I ignored it. Warmth spread over my entire body, chasing away the ice in my veins. Her promise pushed me back, keeping me from the edge of my memories. It kept me alive for one more second.
James: Drive fast. But safely.
Becca: Pick one. Fast or safe. I can’t do both right now.
James: Fast.
I trusted Becca to keep herself safe. That’s what she’d been doing her entire life anyway.
There was a hand on my shoulder and then Uma stepped down the porch in a pair of overalls and white Keds. Her hair was done, falling down her back in white waves. She shifted her purse on her shoulder and signed down at me.
“I’m going to the store. Should I be expecting a guest?” Her eyebrows dug into her forehead.
Subtle. “Yes, Grandmother. Any more questions?”
She looked at the house pensively before signing, “What would she like to eat?”
Really? I had no idea she was this doting. It was aggravating. “She’s flexible.”
“Fried chicken then. With mashed parsnips? Maybe I’ll even crack open the apple moonshine my neighbor gave me.”
My grandmother had never really left West Virginia. “What neighbor?”
She looked away. When she looked back her eyes were guilty. “I’ll be back later. I have to run into town to check my mail and ship some things. You and your friend take your time.” She frowned. “Hanging out.” She bent down and pressed her lips to my hair, and then she walked down the gravel to Grandpa’s Ford.
After watching her driv
e away, her tires kicking up clouds of gravel, I went into the house to shower. The only bathroom in the house was decked out in pastel flowers from the shower curtain to the soap dish. As a child I would count the flowers in the tiles as I bathed, needing to keep my mind busy. I employed that technique now, choosing not to think. Thinking was dangerous these days.
The clothes I’d picked in a hurry were crammed in my backpack haphazardly. I pulled out a pair of boxers, jeans, and a grey university shirt that was a size too big. It must be Kent’s. I didn’t know if it was being alone in Uma’s house again, or the fact that I was in Tampa, but I wanted to see him. I just wanted to be treated like a normal person and not worry about the bullshit in my brain.
Rather than bother texting him I decided to go to his parents’ place. He probably didn’t have his phone on him anyway. If he did he would have contacted me after that text I sent him.
The drive took me longer than normal with lunchtime traffic. Kent’s family lived on the edge of the bay in a Cape Cod style mansion. They hadn’t always been this rich. Their last house was a mile down the road from Uma’s, making it easier for us to hang out before his father hit it big with his ecommerce website. Now I had to pull up to the gate out front and punch in a code, when before all I had to do was sneak into his backyard, where we’d hang out in his tree house.
My Vicious Demise (Demise #2) Page 22