On the Rox

by Addams, Kat

  I shook the thoughts from my head and squeezed my eyes shut tight, forcing myself to sleep. I could handle this tomorrow. I didn’t like the feeling I had, and after all I had been through, I never wanted to feel like this again.

  “Betty?” I croaked into the phone. “Please call one of the other employees to fill in for me today. I’ve gotten exactly forty-five minutes of sleep.”

  “What? Why? Shelter troubles or man troubles?”

  “Both.” I squeezed the bridge of my nose.

  “Okay. It looks like a new Crocodile Dundee–skinned purse for me. If you hear some screams from next door, just turn some music up and pretend you didn’t.”

  “No, no. It’s nothing like that. I stayed up late at the shelter, and Jay kind of freaked out when I didn’t come home until this morning. I got in around three, and he was still waiting up for me. I don’t know if my feelings of being annoyed are valid or not. Am I annoyed just because Tommy used to monitor me? Or should I be happy Jay is concerned about my well-being? I don’t know, and I can’t figure it out right now. I’m too tired, and the shelter wore me down already.”

  “Listen, your feelings are valid, no matter what. Whatever you are feeling, that’s all you. It’s not right or wrong. You’ve been in some bad situations, and you are reacting in the way you know how. I knew you were still healing your scars when he came along. I hoped he could help you along the way. I’m not telling you what to do or not do. You know that. You know I support you in whatever decision you make. But maybe slow down and focus on yourself. Stop taking care of everyone else. Take tomorrow off too. We got the truck. Also, tell the shelter you need a break, okay? You need a few mental health days to figure it out and then slowly start getting back to the grind.”

  “How come you are so smart?”

  “I watched my mama go through this shit. You know that! It’s going to take a long, long time. I doubt Jay meant anything by it. Honestly, the man seems like he couldn’t hurt a flea if he wanted to. But we aren’t focusing on him. We’re focusing on you. Text me anytime you need me. I’ll check back in later. Get some sleep and worry about the situation when you’re rested. I love you.”

  “Love you too, Betty. Thanks. Tell the girls I’m fine too, please. Don’t need anyone else worrying.”

  I hung up my phone and pulled the covers up over my head. Tommy had manipulated my mind into confusion for years. The counselors at the shelter had helped me somewhat, but I also struggled with taking the time to know myself—and most importantly, trust myself. I bit my lip hard, tasting metallic.

  Trust myself. My feelings are valid.

  Since Jay’s restaurant didn’t open until eleven, I knew he hadn’t yet left for work when I woke back up at nine. I touched my fingertips to my puffy eyes and groaned. I needed more sleep, but I also needed to handle this situation, or it would eat me alive. These words needed to come out and not on paper this time. Yesterday, I’d had a feeling when I was happy and content with life that things would come crashing down. I’d thought I had moved past the trauma in my life, but I still had work to do.

  I called Jay to make sure he was home and available to chat.

  “Good morning,” I said. “Are you home?”

  “Good morning, sunshine! I just got home from a late run. What’s up? Everything okay?” He breathed heavy into the phone.

  “I was going to stop by for a quick chat. I’ve had something on my mind since last night.”

  “Oh. Last night. Yes.” His voice fell flat. “I’m here.”

  “In person. I’m walking over now. Talk soon.”

  I slipped on my house shoes and dragged my feet down the stairs. My pajamas were green with the Slytherin emblem decorated all over, but I didn’t care how juvenile I looked. Jay wouldn’t mind. He didn’t mind at all who I was as a person. He liked my odd quirks and wild, over-the-top shenanigans. And that was what made walking up to his home difficult. I needed to understand last night’s actions and put the brakes on what would inevitably turn into just another one of my disasters.

  I stepped up to his door, noticing that he kept the blinds shut and remembering the morning I’d caught him spewing his load all over the place. I giggled to myself, trying to focus on something funny and pushing down the pain that had settled into my heart. I was still beginning to figure myself out, but I knew this much was true. I wasn’t ready to commit to anyone or anything. Not after a simple, caring question had set me off.

  He opened the door before I could knock and immediately pulled me into an embrace. I nuzzled my favorite spot against his chest for a quick second to feel his warmth before I pulled back and looked up at him.

  I gritted my teeth, took a deep breath, and began, “Last night, when you freaked out on me, I didn’t like that. I know you were coming from a different place than my ex, Tommy, but it still made me feel triggered.” I folded my arms across my chest, the lump in my throat growing bigger and bigger. I wondered just how long I could swallow the wail that I knew was coming.

  “Rox, I am so, so sorry. Please believe me. I would never be that type of man. That just isn’t me, and I think you know that. I awoke in a panic from a horrible dream. It was of you. I reacted poorly. I did freak out. I wasn’t even coherent when I woke. I feel terrible about that. Since my parents’ accident, I’m afraid to lose someone else I love.”

  “What did you just say?” My stomach turned.

  His admittance brought a whole new level of drama to the conversation I’d forced myself to have with him. I felt sick.

  “I … I love you, and I don’t want to lose you. I worry about you. Too much. I know you’re an independent woman. I want to keep you safe. From everyone. And everything. And if you’re not feeling safe with me, then I will back off too. The last thing I want is to make you feel bad. I’ll not have that. It was a misunderstanding, but I know where you are coming from. I understand. I really do.” He buried his face in his hands and then ran his fingers through his hair. His mouth turned down into a pout, and the look in his eyes told me that he had already beaten himself up over this.

  I had never seen him like this before. My pulse raced throughout my fingertips as I ached to reach out to him and forget the way I had felt last night.

  “I’m sorry, Jay. I need some time. I told you, I’m broken. I don’t know how to trust, and I don’t know how to be in a healthy relationship. I’m trying, but I am a very slow work in progress. I can’t help how I reacted either. It was a natural instinct for me. But my feelings are valid even if they were coming from a misunderstanding. I need to work on that. I’m not kintsugi. There is no gold here. It’s only darkness, confusion, and walls that I’ve got to keep from crumbling for the wrong people.”

  “You think I’m the wrong people?” The hurt in his voice felt like a jab to my heart.

  “No. I thought we’d met at the right time in each other’s lives. Divine intervention and all that jazz. But maybe it is the wrong time. I’m still not healed, and neither are you. I need some time. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Okay. But I want you to know that you don’t have to be so tough all the time. It’s okay to lean on someone else for help. It’s okay to be vulnerable and open and let someone take care of you for a change.”

  “You don’t have to be so tough all the time either. You’ve not exactly opened yourself up to me, as I have to you. I know you’re hurt and healing too. Even though our circumstances are different, we are still both at low points in our lives,” I said, blinking back the tears that began to sting my eyes. “I have to go.” I turned to run back toward home.

  “Wait!” he called out after me after I already made it halfway across his yard. “Take all the time you need. Whether you like it or not, you are kintsugi. I look at you, and I only see golden rays. Sunshine. You’re sunshine to my storms. I’m sorry for any pain I caused, Rox.”

  I dragged myself inside of my house, not turning back to catch his eyes that I’d felt staring at me the entire time I walked ba
ck home. I put my forehead to a wall, collapsing into a puddle on the cold hardwood floor. I wondered if I would ever be normal enough for a relationship again.

  Eleven

  Jay

  Crushed didn’t begin to explain how I felt after Rox left. I watched her as she walked away and back into her home, knowing that she wouldn’t be coming back for a while, if ever. I closed my front door and sat on my couch in silence for over an hour. My chest hurt with that empty feeling that only came from a broken heart. I had been afraid to lose Rox, and because of that fear, I had lost her.

  I put my head in my hands and thought back to that last week in Australia when I had fled my country days after my parents’ funeral. I had taken no time in grieving. That shit wasn’t for me. I had picked up and left, letting Aiden handle my affairs and accounts. It was a selfish thing to do, and I would be forever grateful to Aiden for taking care of business, but the shock of my divorce and my parents’ deaths had me fly away in my own way. And now, I was stuck in a perpetual state of fear of loss because I never dealt with my shit.

  I lay down on my couch, pulling the throw over on me and wrapping myself up. For the rest of the week, I let myself grieve.

  Twelve

  Jay

  Five Weeks Later

  Ever since Rox had told me that she needed to slow things down, my days began to run together. I worked morning, noon, and night at Scarlett Herb to keep my mind off of my raven that needed to spread her wings and fly away. She was right in that I wasn’t able to completely open up. I knew that for sure. I also knew that I needed closure myself. My own running away around the entire world hadn’t helped me one bit.

  I laced up my runners and quietly made my way outside as the sun rose over the hills. I looked up at Rox’s window, knowing she probably still slept soundly this morning. We had successfully avoided each other since she showed up on my doorstep that morning weeks ago, but I would give anything to see her face again. I sighed. The heavy fog dampened my pants, reminding me of that time I had taken Rox for a run and that rabid squirrel attacked me.

  Bloody monster!

  I pressed my heels into the muddy path and took off, hoping I didn’t see another one of those bastards again. I could still feel Rox’s breath on my neck as I pushed her up against that tree. That had been my first and last run with her. Unfortunately, my good habits hadn’t rubbed off on her, but I had caught her another time or two eating fairy bread.

  Like a dumbass, I never held up my entire end of the treaty with Rox. I hadn’t been able to get my cat tattoo, and I never finished my poem. But now, it was too late. Rox didn’t want to hear from me, and I wasn’t going to be the person to push myself on her. I had a feeling she had enough pushing around in her life. If she really wanted me and our meeting really had been something out of the cosmos, she and I would be together again at some point. Maybe that wasn’t now or anytime soon. But if it was meant to be, it would be.

  I swallowed hard, stopping in the middle of my run and breathing the damp air into my lungs. I rubbed the tears out of my eyes. It was meant to be. I knew it was meant to be. Just like my parents had been soul mates, I had felt that with Rox. I had known her for a million years. My soul had known her. The thought of letting go of someone who touched your whole being like that crushed me. She had taught me to live when death had consumed my life.

  I cut my run short and headed toward home, finally realizing what I needed to do. I never wanted to scare Rox away again. At least, while I gave her the space she had asked for, I could be the person I needed to be for me. Even though I felt she had helped me to be that person, it wasn’t fair of me to ask her to do that. She already had enough people to help in her life.

  I skipped my shower and headed into work straightaway after my run. I had mud caked to my shins, and I smelled like a bear, but I needed to get to DTF while they were using our kitchen. I knew they were there early every Monday and Thursday mornings because I’d successfully avoided running into them, too, these last few weeks. But today, I needed to talk to them even though the thought of seeing Betty after Rox and I had split seemed downright terrifying.

  I pulled into the parking lot, noticing that The Pink Taco Truck was already there. I grabbed my keys and headed inside, busting through the door like the Kool-Aid Man and startling everyone. The restaurant wasn’t set to open for another few hours, so it was only employees who saw me in my disheveled state.

  “Wow, this breakup has hit you pretty bad, hasn’t it?” Nikki said as she stared at me, wide-eyed.

  “What? Oh. No. Well, yes actually. Never mind that. I was running and—” I searched around the room, finally seeing Betty at the back in deep conversation with Terrance.

  I jogged over to them both, trying to control my breathing and not look like the complete mess I was.

  “Hey! I have a favor to ask of you. Can I talk to you in private for a minute?” I wrapped my fingers around Betty’s elbow and gently nudged her to the side.

  Betty’s eyes glanced from my grip on her elbow to my eyes. “Look, the only reason I haven’t skinned you alive right now is because I know that it wasn’t your fault. Even though she is upset, it’s with herself, not you. But I do want to take it out on you, just so you know. I don’t know why. Maybe I got some deep-shit issues too. But shoot, what were you saying?” Betty put her hands on her hips and squinted at me.

  I thought I’d seen this stance before from a deadly bird-o-saurus back home in the outback.

  “I wanted to know if you thought it would be okay if I read Rox’s poetry. She mentioned she wanted it published one day, so I think she would be okay with me reading it all, but I want you to make sure for me and see if maybe I can borrow it for my own healing. You can tell her that. I find it—her—inspirational. I want to read more of her work. Please ask her if she can let me borrow that notebook,” I pleaded, noticing Betty’s posture relax as she took a deep breath.

  “She’d love nothing more than to help. You know that about her. I’ll get it to you.”

  “How has she been? Okay?” My eyes searched Betty’s for any clue as to if Rox had been safe, comfortable, happy, and maybe even if she had thought about me at all.

  “Don’t push it.” Betty grabbed her boobs, pushed them up to her neck, and then pulled her palms away, letting them fall into a bounce.

  I didn’t know if I was more scared or turned on.

  “Um, was that some type of Bat-Signal? Is that an American gesture? Like a handshake?” I put my palms to my chest and rubbed my pecs up and down.

  “Boob drop. Like a mic drop, except by me. So, ten times the impact. Now, I’ve got to get to work. Will get you those poems, Kangaroo Boy!” she said, turning on her heels to leave.

  Crocodile Dundee was a much cooler nickname.

  Nikki stopped me as I made my way to the exit.

  “Take this. Keep it in your shirt pocket. Close to that broken heart of yours,” she said, sliding a pink crystal into my palm.

  “Thanks, Nikki.” I pocketed the smooth stone and walked back to my car, ready to tackle the rest of my life.

  Betty had taken no time at all in getting Rox’s poetry to me. I wasn’t sure if it was her or Rox who had rushed it, but Aiden handed me the notebook only two days later. I ran my fingertips along the pages, tracing over her doodles in the corners. Most of these poems I had read before, but there were a handful of new ones in the back. My eyes carefully scanned the pages, noticing familiar scenes.

  She had written about a raven with broken wings, a rabid pervert squirrel, a fear of going fast, and a fire hose in her pants. I guessed that fire hose was my dick. I giggled my way through her poems, tearing up here and there when she went deep into feelings. She had poured her soul out into those few words and then quickly washed them away with her clever wit.

  I wanted to text her to thank her for letting me borrow this book that I knew meant so much to her, but reading through the poems told me she was hurt beyond anything I could do for her. I st
ill needed to wait and let her see for herself that she was deserving of things far greater than I or anyone could give her. Though that wouldn’t keep me from trying. My soul still ached to hear her laugh once more.

  “Here we go again,” Aiden said, eyeing the luggage I clutched in my hand.

  I stood in the doorway of Scarlett Herb, prepared for a quick good-bye.

  “Only for a short while. I want to visit Mum and Dad. I want to give the homeland a proper good-bye. I’ll be back shortly, and hopefully, this time, I really will be ready to settle down and move on in life. I think so anyway.” I pulled my brother in for a hug.

  “You running off again doesn’t bode well for the business. How am I supposed to run this alone now with all the customers you’ve gotten me?”

  “You’ll manage. It’s not like I’m leaving for two years! I’ll be back within a week or two. Promise.”

  “And DTF? You know they will ask.”

  “Tell them the truth. Tell them I left to finish healing, and I’ll be back when I’m ready. I’m sure they will understand more than anyone. I need closure.” I turned to go, heading back toward my awaiting Uber outside.

  “Oh, Jay? Can you bring me back some more coffee and Vegemite? Thinking about putting it on the menu. An ode to the homeland. Oi! Oi! Oi!” Aiden called out, stopping me in my tracks.

  “Aye! I’ll bring you heaps and heaps of it. Oi! Oi! Oi!” I laughed, ducking away and into my ride.

  The good thing about flying to Australia from Outer Forks was that I had all the time in the world to read and write. I knew that Rox probably did not want to hear from me now, but I still owed her the poem that had been part of the treaty.

  As soon as I hustled to the airport and boarded my plane, I settled into my seat and pulled out the copies I’d made of Rox’s poetry. I studied each line, only stopping when I had to board another plane. On my last flight, I finally felt confident enough to deliver my first ever serious poem. Well, halfway serious. I wanted to try her method of humor to soften the blows too. I took a pen and notebook from my laptop case and began the process of bleeding on paper. I didn’t stop until I reached Australia.