“All I’ve wanted to do since I met you is spend every moment with you and learn everything I can, but I have responsibilities. I have a kid, and I hate how wanting to be with you means I sacrifice time with him. I shouldn’t, but I do because for some reason I need to be surrounded by you.”
My chest tightens, and I want nothing more than to shrink into myself
He does have to sacrifice to be with me. And he shouldn’t because his son deserves his full attention. Chris deserves to have every minute with his father that he can.
I try to turn away from Hudson, but he holds me in place. “Don’t worry, he loves staying at my mom’s, but I wanted you to know that if things were different, I’d spend all my time with you.”
I hold back my emotions, all of them threatening to spill out of me for the first time. It’s like I have no filter around him, and holding back is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. I want to tell him I want that, too. I want him to be around–to be the rock I need, the support to help me through, but how fair is that? It’s not.
And there’s another thing that’s been on my mind, something I would never say out loud for fear of losing him. Do I really want to be involved with someone who has a kid? Because I’ve tried to fight Hudson. I tried not to feel anything when he’s around, but I’ve failed miserably.
But a kid is a lot of responsibility, more responsibility than what I’ve had in the time since I started taking care of my parents. One might argue that it isn’t different because I worked to support them both, but it is because I didn’t have to raise them. I didn’t have to make sure they did homework and didn’t get involved with the wrong people. Kids are a lot, and I’m still a kid myself.
Am I a bad person for thinking that? I don’t know. In Hudson’s words it makes me human, but maybe it makes me a shitty one.
“Your turn,” he says, his head moving closer to me.
“You’re a drug I don’t want to be addicted to, but it’s too late, and I hate how much I want you. I hate that you’re turning into someone I need when I only want to need myself.”
He doesn’t say a word as his lips crash into mine. Most people might be deterred by my words, but not Hudson. He kisses me like his life depends on it, like he’s admitting he needs me, too.
So maybe our paths were intended to cross when we both felt like we had nothing else to give. Maybe this is exactly where we belong–with each other, in a place neither one of us recognizes, but we’re running toward the unknown, chancing a fall like no other.
His hand moves from my chin to the back of my head, drawing me closer. His tongue slips through my lips, and I welcome him and the comfort he brings me. The way he makes me feel safe by just being near me. I didn’t need to leave work early to be alone–I needed this. I needed him to take everything away and make me feel like I’m not as much of an outcast as I think I am–to make me feel like I’m not alone in the world, when I thought I was the only one left standing.
He backs away, leaving my lips bare and longing for another taste of him. He smiles when he sees the pout on my face. “You’re something else entirely, Jade.” He places a soft kiss on my forehead before he stands and closes the door, leaving me as puzzled as ever.
I’m not sure if he meant that as a good or bad thing, but I’m going to go with good because his kiss was demanding and magical. You can’t kiss like that and think the girl you’re kissing is crazy, but I’m way more than crazy. I’m a complete handful.
The driver side door opens, and Hudson plops in his seat, shutting the door behind him. I watch as he tugs his seatbelt across him. The muscles in his arms shifting each time he moves, and I have a hard time wrenching my eyes away before he notices me staring.
“What?” he asks with amusement.
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“You’re a bad liar, ya know?” he teases, turning on the ignition.
I laugh. “Isn’t that a good thing? That means I’ll never be able to get anything past you.”
“True.” He shifts the car in drive and pulls away from the bar, leaving the bright lights behind us.
“Tell me about your son,” I say, interested in the small person who undoubtedly has Hudson wrapped around his finger. “Why did you name him Chris?”
I might not know anything about kids or if I want to be in his son’s life, but I’m not a complete monster. I know that Chris probably looks up to Hudson like he’s his hero–just like I do my mom.
“His mom’s name was Christina. I wanted to honor her memory. This way he’ll always have a piece of her with him.”
“Does he know that?” I ask.
“He does, but I don’t think he understands the why part.” He frowns.
“He will when he’s older,” I assure him. “What’s he like?”
His gaze quickly sweeps over me before settling back on the road. “He’s a mess.” He chuckles. “He has more energy than I ever thought someone could have. Whenever we go to the grocery store, I have to bribe him with a cookie so he’ll stay by my side and not run around.”
His face beams with adoration, and I love seeing how much he cares for his son. Anytime Hudson talks about Chris light pours out of him.
“He plays baseball, but I’m pretty sure he hates it,” he continues as he makes a right turn. “He’s a little bit of a loner, so I make him participate in activities with other kids. I want him to have friends, and I think he does from the turnout we had at his birthday party, but sometimes I worry about him.”
“I think you’ll always worry.”
“You’re right. Even when he’s forty with his own kids, I’ll worry.” He pauses, seeming to go somewhere else. “I just pray I’m doing everything right. I hope he learns how to be the best version of himself and not get into a situation like I did.”
“If he turns out anything like you, you’ve done your job. You’re a good guy. Don’t think that you aren’t.” I mean it, too, because even though he has a kid, he’s taking care of him. Hudson stepped up when he could have given Chris up.
“Thanks.”
I don’t know if he understands what he’s already done for his son. Every day Hudson is showing Chris that with enough perseverance, you can make it through anything. Even the shittiest of situations can be overcome if you have the willpower to beat the odds.
When I think of my own situation, I think of how I’ve failed. Have I let everyone down or is it only me that has expectations I can’t meet? Do I set myself up for failure every time I put my mind to something because I’ll always wish I could have done it differently? Probably. And I bet it’s exactly why I don’t acknowledge all the positive things I’ve done. I can never meet my own expectations–expectations that no one would ever be able to come close to.
Hudson comes to a stop in front of his trailer and kills the ignition on the car. I push open the door and step out in the night air, breathing in one last time before I step inside for the rest of the night.
“What are you doing?” Hudson whispers as if trying not to disturb me.
“Enjoying the peace.” It’s something to engrain in my memory as one of those moments where I didn’t let anything bother me. I’m free…just for this second.
A chill snakes through me as a draft moves through the air, causing me to shiver. Hudson’s arm falls over my shoulder, securing me to his side. I breathe in one last time, taking in his warmth and strength before heading toward the front door.
He steps inside before me, and a faint glow from the television illuminates his form. When I move around him, I’m surprised to see his mom sitting on the couch with the remote in her hand.
“Thanks, Mom,” he says, leaning down, placing a sweet kiss on her cheek.
“Anytime. You know I’ll help whenever, even if you just need a break.”
I smile at her words, knowing my mom would say the exact same thing.
“This is Jade,” Hudson says, introducing me to his mom.
I stick out my hand for
her to shake, but she embraces me in a hug instead. “We met at Chris’s birthday. It’s good to see you again,” she gushes.
“You, too.” I awkwardly hug her back, out of practice from the sentiment.
She pulls away and hugs Hudson before she says, “Chris is asleep. Call me if you need anything.”
“I will. Drive home safely.”
“Always do,” she retorts, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again, Jade.”
“I hope so,” I say.
“I’ll be right back,” Hudson whispers in my ear before he heads out the door behind his mom.
I plop on the couch, relaxing into the cushions. I push off my shoes and curl up on the couch, letting my eyes close for a brief second before the door opens again.
Hudson’s footsteps grow louder as he approaches me. He leans over me, pushing my long brown hair behind my ear. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, amused.
“Getting comfy.” I wiggle around on the couch, sinking further into it.
“I don’t think so.” He takes my hands in his and tugs me to a sitting position before lifting me off the couch. “I’m on the couch. You’re this way.” He turns around, keeping one of my hands in his hold, guiding me through the living room and kitchen to a closed door.
He opens the door, revealing a room with a queen bed and nothing else. The room is bare. No pictures. No anything–just a bed, dresser, night stand, and lamp.
“You’ll sleep in my room.” He lets go of my hand and walks over to his bed, straightening the covers. “Do you want a change of clothes?”
“I’ll be fine.” I’m wearing shorts and a t-shirt, but I won’t dare let myself be engulfed in Hudson more than I already am.
“The bathroom is right outside my room, and I’ll be in the living room. Let me know if you need anything.”
He starts to leave, but I stop him, placing my hand on his arm. “Can you stay for a little while?”
He looks at me as if he’s unsure if he wants to stay or not, and I’m about to tell him never mind when he nods his head and walks back to his bed.
My shoulders sag in relief as I slide onto the bed, resting my head on his pillow, being submerged in his world–taking in a lungful of cinnamon and spice.
He lays next to me, propping his head on the palm of his hand.
“Why is your room so bare?” I ask, my eyes skating across the white walls painted in a warm glow from the lamp on the night stand.
He shrugs, his mouth pulling to one side. “I don’t need much.”
I watch as his shoulders tense, his eyes avoiding me. “And what’s the truth?”
He blows out a loud exhale. “I give Chris everything.” He drops his head to the pillow, placing his hand under it. “I buy him what he needs and a few things he wants. I sacrifice for him, but I’m okay with that. He deserves more than what I have to give.”
I shake my head. “He has everything he needs in you.”
His lips tip up, and my heart leaps in my chest, knowing I made him smile–that I helped when I never thought I could.
“What are you going to do about your mom?” he asks, his leg tangling with mine.
I press my lips together to keep from grinning like a schoolgirl with a crush on the cutest boy in class.
“What do you mean?”
“You should spend time with her, be there for her while you still can.” He tucks a stand of my hair behind my ear, and I shiver from the action. “Don’t waste the days you have left with her, avoiding her and working. You’ll regret that for the rest of your life. As much as it might hurt to watch her drift away, the pain you’ll experience from not being there for her will be far worse.”
“What if I’m not strong enough?”
“You are. You’re stronger than you know.”
“How do you know?”
He places his hand over my rapidly beating heart. “Because you’ve been standing on your own taking care of everyone, too scared to live your own life. The people who fight for the ones around them are the ones to look out for, because they’re the ones who take the world by storm–who prove to everyone around them that they won’t let anything tear them down.” His hand moves to the side of my face. “I see that in you. You’re strong like a lion, fighting to protect the ones you love.”
“You say it like you’re so sure of yourself.”
“I am, but don’t forget, if you fall down, I’ll be here to catch you. I’ll be here to pick you back up because I fight to protect people, too.”
He leans closer, placing a light kiss to my mouth. “I won’t let you fall,” he whispers before pushing his lips firmer against mine, being more than I ever thought he would.
He kisses me like I’m the one keeping him together, but that’s where he’s wrong. He’s keeping me together, but he can’t keep me from falling.
Sitting in the uncomfortable waiting room chair, I swipe my thumb right, calling Harry’s Garage. I hold the phone to my ear, listening to the ringing as I bounce my foot up and down.
I decided to take Hudson’s advice, but I’m not positive this is the best idea. Do I really want to watch my mom die? Wither away? Do I want to see her personality slip into the unknown?
I don’t.
I stare at the dingy, white hospital floor as the phone continues to ring in my ear.
If I wasn’t at the hospital with her every second I could be, I’d regret it. I’d regret everything…for the rest of my days. Because even though I don’t want to watch her fade away, I want to spend the time with her that I can. I want to have memories to hold on to. I want to be able to say I was there with her until the end.
Finally, someone picks up the phone.
“Harry’s Garage,” Harry says, sounding like he has a mouth full of food.
“Harry, it’s Jade.”
“What do you want?” he growls.
“My mom has gotten worse,” I croak, my throat feeling thick from having to share part of my life with him. “I need to be around for her, and I…” I wrap a hand around my neck, willing the words to slip through my lips. “I…need…time–”
“Stop,” he says, cutting me off, and I squeeze my eyes shut. “You need time off? To work less?”
I shake my head, and then realize he can’t see me. “Yes,” I mumble, feeling weak for asking for help.
He huffs, but when he speaks his voice is understanding. “Three days a week with the same hours.”
My grip on the phone loosens, and it slips from my hand as my mouth falls open. Reaching my hands out, I grab my phone right before it hits the floor.
“Jade,” Harry yells through the phone.
He’s giving me time off, no questions asked. Have I entered an alternate universe? I asked for help, and he said yes. I never knew it could be that easy.
I push the phone up to my ear. “Yes, sorry,” I rush out. “Thank you, Harry.” I let out a deep breath.
He grunts and hangs up the phone.
After shoving my phone in my shorts pocket, I let my hair cascade around me as I rest my elbows on my knees. I press the palms of my hands into my eyes, keeping any tears from falling as my shoulders shake and lips tremble.
I never thought I would be crying because I was happy. And I never knew such a small thing could make me feel like I’ve reached the top of Mount Everest.
Stepping away from work is a decision I fought with for several days, but I decided that if I was going to be here with her–for her–then I needed to make some compromises. I needed to change.
It’s the right decision I know it is, but that doesn’t keep the guilt at bay, knowing that I’m giving up as much as Mom is.
I wipe my eyes and nose after running my hands through my hair, making sure I look as put together as possible.
I stand from the chair and head down the hall to Mom’s room. I’ve gotten used to the sick patient’s coughing in the hallways and families weeping over their loved ones. I’ve almost grown imm
une to it with all the time I’ve spent in the hospital.
When I reach Mom’s room, I hover in the doorway watching her sleep. It seems to be one of the only things I do these days, watching her dream, her body relaxed.
I walk in her room and sit on the teal chair next to her.
I trail my hand down her forearm before I grasp her hand in mine. She’s cold, and as I run my thumb over the back of her hand, I notice how dry her skin is.
She used to have the softest skin. I asked her once why she was so soft, and she laughed, her arm clutching her stomach. She told me she used magic cream that made her skin as soft as mine overnight.
I hold her hand tighter. I want to make more memories with her, but that’s just me daydreaming. These are the last moments I’ll have with her, and they’ll all take place in this godforsaken hospital.
It’s scary knowing Mom won’t be here forever–that soon, she’ll be gone. I wonder how people do it. How do you live with grief? How do you survive knowing someone you love more than you can possibly explain is gone–forever?
“Jade?” Mom asks, her eyes fluttering open for the first time since I’ve been in her room today.
“I’m here,” I say. I’m exactly where I should be.
A smile splays across her face. “I’m glad.”
“Me too,” I answer honestly.
Her smile drops as she appraises me with anguish in her eyes. “Are you mad at me?”
It’s a question I could easily answer with a yes. Because I am mad at her. I’m pissed that she’s ending her life when there’s an easy solution. She could fight. Sure, her chances of surviving a surgery are slimmer now that she’s gotten weaker, but the chance of survival is still there, hanging in the balance, waiting for her to take it.
Maybe I won’t ever understand why she thinks she’s doing this for my benefit, but I won’t tell her that because she’s dying. I won’t put more blame on her. I won’t let her know how much she’s killing me. Because as much as I’m hurting–like a knife is twisting in my gut repeatedly–I know what she’s feeling is a thousand times a worse.
The Truth About Falling Page 15