Love's Suicide

by Jennifer Foor

  I’m sorry for sharing that. It’s just so hard, living here.

  I still miss you every day Kat, so I guess that finally brings me to answer your question.

  If you think it’s time to let go, I will understand. Just know that I’ve thought about you every day since you walked out of my life. I’ll never give up on you.

  Take care of yourself in whatever you decide.

  Love always,

  Brooks

  The second letter was postmarked two weeks later. I assume from it coming from another country that one got held up, or the mail man was a really nice guy, holding out in hopes to catch me.

  Dear Kat,

  Okay, I lied when I said that it was okay with me if you let go. It’s not okay.

  I’m miserable over here and feel like I have nothing to come home for. I don’t want to see my brother and visiting my parents only reminds me of you.

  You’re still everywhere I turn.

  God, I miss you so much. I miss the way you smell and the way you twirl your hair when you’re nervous. Most of all, I miss my best friend.

  Please Kat. Write me back.

  Tell me to go to Hell.

  Say something.

  I have to go away for a few days, but I’ll check the mail when I get back.

  All my love, Brooks

  That letter had a return address.

  I folded them both together and got back in my car, realizing that I had to calm myself down before heading home.

  My heart was pounding like it was going to pop out of chest. I couldn’t breathe and I knew I was having an anxiety attack. It had been so long since I was that upset and it wasn’t because I was angry.

  Brooks hadn’t given up me and I didn’t know what to do about it. I was married, caring for a handicapped husband who depended on me. Then there was Brooklyn. He deserved to know he had a daughter, but telling him in a letter wasn’t going to happen.

  No matter how I tried to calm myself down, it wasn’t working.

  I needed my mother, for yet another catastrophe that I’d put myself right smack in the middle of.

  Hiding a child from her father and his family was no easy task. How could I have thought that it would ever be okay?

  I started driving home, knowing what had to be done. I was going to keep writing Brooks until I got the courage to tell him the truth. In the meantime, I’d have to keep it all from Bobby. If he got wind that I was in touch with Brooklyn’s father and I didn’t know what he would do.

  I feared for my life when it came down to the possibility of him feeling like he would lose Brooklyn.

  Chapter 22

  February 2013

  Ever since the day that I got his first letters I’d been going to the new construction house and checking for more. It took a whole week for the next one to roll in and I opened it with shaking hands, like the one before it.

  Dear Kat,

  I can’t even explain how happy it made me to get your letter. Now, it seems like I can’t stop writing you. Every day I sit down and think of all the things that I want to tell you.

  If you saw the pile of paper bundled in my trash can, you’d understand.

  While this place lacks the feeling of home, I find peace knowing that you’re out there somewhere thinking about me too. I can only hope that one day, when I’m finally done with this tour, I can see you again. Would you be opposed to that? I understand if I’m being too forward. I just feel like we’ve missed so much time together.

  Please write me back, as getting your letters is the happiest I’ve felt in a very long time.

  Love, Brooks

  I could feel that lump in my throat, knowing guilt was the culprit. I was beating around the truth, unable to admit that I was not only married, but also the mother of his child.

  Then again, I was so excited to hear from him that I couldn’t help myself. I had to keep talking to him and reading about how, after all this time, he still loved me.

  I sat in my car and wrote him back.

  Dear Brooks,

  I’m happy too. For so long I felt like you hated me. I’ve kept so much pain bottled up inside of me for what I did. I want you to know that walking away from you that day was still the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. It was harder than losing my parents, because I knew I could have changed it, if I’d just been brave enough.

  It’s taken me a long time to be able to accept that there are things I could have done to prevent what happened to us. It all starts with admitting that I should have known Branch had lied to me about your feelings.

  About your brother…

  I almost don’t want to know when he and Melissa hooked up. It isn’t like I care if it happened the day after I left. I knew I didn’t want him. In fact, if I never see him again it will be too soon. Your brother is the reason that we are worlds apart. He’s the reason that we’ve lived in Hell for two years. I will never forgive him for that.

  Looking back now, I can actually see how he was full of shit most of the time. It makes me sick knowing I was that naïve.

  I should be the one begging you to write me back, because I sure as hell don’t deserve your heart after what I did to you and have still been doing to you.

  Getting our friendship back would mean everything to me.

  I hope to hear from you soon.

  Love always,

  Katy

  I pulled the box of envelopes out of the glove compartment and addressed it, before sticking it in the mailbox for the next day’s mail. I knew I couldn’t risk Bobby finding out what was going on behind his back and I didn’t even know how to approach it. We were finally at a point where we were both getting along. He was working hard on being able to walk again. I’d put him through too much to break his heart when he was at his lowest. I’d already done that to someone I cared about and knew it would end badly.

  For the next week I helped Bobby with his therapy, took care of B and fantasized about a future with Brooks. It was wrong. I needed to tell him so much that I was withholding.

  I just couldn’t seem to give up on the excitement of getting his letters.

  Each one was more endearing than the last and soon I had a shoebox full of them.

  By March, we were writing each other every single day. I knew things had gotten out of hand, but once again, I couldn’t stop myself.

  It wasn’t like I was going home to Bobby and professing my love to him. I took care of him, because he didn’t have anyone else.

  Then it came time to move into the new house. For a while, I’d thought that maybe he would be better and I could move there by myself, but Bobby had reached a halt in his progress. The physical therapy wasn’t getting him any further and I feared that he was going to depend on me to be there for him.

  Once we were in the new house, I had to sneak out to get the mail. I couldn’t let Bobby see who my letters were coming from and he certainly couldn’t know the things that we were talking about. I knew, even without two good working legs, he’d find a way to hurt me.

  The new house was bigger, giving us more room to live in, albeit it seemed small since we were all stuck there together. I knew I had to get out of the house a couple days a week or I was going to go crazy.

  My problem was, I couldn’t give Bobby the opportunity to get the mail. I got so afraid of it that I’d sometimes meet the mailman down the end of the road and retrieve it, in fear of him looking out the window and counting the pieces as I pulled them out of the box.

  I know it was my guilty conscience, and that Bobby didn’t have a clue that I was talking to Brooks. Still, there had been so many days where I couldn’t stop smiling and he had to know there was a reason.

  About the same time as Bobby starting really questioning me, was when the letters came to a sudden stop.

  I was okay for the first week, knowing that sometimes Brooks had to go to places where he couldn’t mail anything.

  During that time, Bobby confronted me.

  “Katy, what’
s goin’ on?”

  “What do you mean?” I was washing lettuce to make a salad for dinner, while he sat at the table feeding B pieces of chicken.

  “You know what I mean. For two weeks you’ve said hardly anything to me. You think I haven’t seen you watchin’ for the mailman?”

  It was a good thing I wasn’t looking in his direction. “Bobby, seriously, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was probably just hoping one of my magazines would come, since they have such good coupons inside of them.”

  I turned around and started setting the table. “No. I think you’re hidin’ somethin’ from me. I think you’ve gone out and got yourself a lawyer and you’re plannin’ on slappin’ me with divorce papers. I’m tellin’ you right now, Katy. If that’s what you’re doin’, you best rethink that decision. Cripple or not, I won’t let you divorce me.”

  I looked right at him, relieved that’s all he thought it was. “Bobby, I haven’t seen a lawyer. I think being in this house for so long is getting to your head.”

  I couldn’t admit that I was worrying more about Brooks as the seconds passed.

  Bobby grabbed me and pulled me toward the side of his wheelchair. “I miss you.”

  I felt bad for him sometimes, knowing for sure that I’d never love him like I should. “I’m right here.”

  “Can I have a kiss?”

  I closed my eyes and pressed my lips against Bobby’s. What I thought would be a short peck turned out to be more and I knew I couldn’t pull away and make him more curious about my actions.

  He finally ended it, only to reach his hand in between my thighs. “You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt you. Maybe we should put B to bed early and break in the new bedroom.”

  I smiled and ran my hands through his hair.

  As I thought of Brooks, and knew that I wanted it to be him, I was obligated to be the wife that Bobby needed, even if it felt more like a job than a relationship.

  I leaned down and kissed him again. “It’s a date,” while cringing inside.

  It wasn’t until April that I received my letters returned back to me. There was no explanation. They were just stamped return to sender.

  I went into town one day, after the mail had been delivered, and headed to the library. From there, I was able to locate where Brooks had been stationed and a contact number for his commanding officer.

  I feared that Brooks was gone, knowing that he’d have to have a good reason to cut off communication with me, especially when his last letter talked about us being together again.

  Of course, you can’t just call a commanding officer and expect him to answer. I was transferred nearly ten times and finally got a voicemail. After leaving my information, I hung up knowing that he’d never call me back. I didn’t have security clearance, and I certainly wasn’t his family.

  Finally, by the end of the month I was so upset that I called Melissa.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s me, Katy. Listen, I need to ask you something, because I can’t stand not knowing.”

  “Are you calling about Brooks? How did you hear?”

  I dropped the phone and it shattered into a million pieces on the floor. I didn’t need to put my phone together to know what had happened, and I certainly didn’t want to put it back together to have her call me back and tell the details of when or how it happened.

  Brooks was gone, and my heart was shattered.

  I’d never have that reunion with him, or be able to wrap my arms around him. I’d never be able to look him in the eyes and tell him how much I loved him.

  I’d never be able to introduce him to his beautiful little girl.

  I fell to the ground realizing that he was never going to know about her. I could have told him and he could have died knowing that he’d created something so perfect. I’d written him more than fifty letters and never mentioned having a child or being married. The latter I knew was for the better, assuming that when he died at least he’d known we were on good terms.

  An older lady that I recognized from church came and helped me get up off the floor. It didn’t help. The moment I climbed in my car I lost it. I didn’t know who to call or what to do. I didn’t even know if they’d bring his body home.

  What if there was no body left?

  What if he’d died and been blown up?

  It happened all of time.

  The longer I had to think about it, the more it stabbed at my heart.

  He was my everything, my reason for breathing. How could I look at B and know she’d never meet him?

  I didn’t go home for another two hours, in which I sobbed uncontrollably in my car. I didn’t know what to do or who I could talk to about it.

  Finally, I pulled up in the driveway knowing I had to go inside.

  He was waiting for me. “Where have you been? B’s hungry.”

  I stood there, with swollen, burning eyes, and just stared at him.

  “Katy, what’s wrong, darlin’?”

  Then I lost it, right in front of Bobby and B. “He’s dead, Bobby.”

  With two braces still on his legs, he swung around in his chair and grabbed my hand. “Talk to me, Katy. Who’s dead?”

  I closed my eyes and prepared for him to smack me, or worse for sneaking behind his back. “Brooks. He’s dead.” I sobbed.

  Bobby pulled me on top of him, fighting how it must have hurt him. He wrapped his arms so tightly around me. “Baby, I’m so sorry. It doesn’t even matter how you found out. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  Of all the times that he’d had a right to hate me and be angry, there he was holding and comforting me. “He’s never going to know her, now. I should have told him when I had the chance. I kept her from him and now he’ll never know.”

  He kissed my head and rocked me, while keeping a tight hold on my body. I knew I was shaking and it was probably bad for B to see me like that. The only good thing was that she wouldn’t remember it when she was older. She’d never remember the day when I found out her real daddy was gone. She’d never have to feel the pain of being without him and it was the only thing I was thankful for. If she felt half of what I was feeling, I’d never forgive myself.

  While Bobby held me, I realized that the only reason I didn’t want to die myself was sitting there in her high chair.

  For as long as I lived, I was going to teach her about her daddy, and the hero that he was to his country and especially to me.

  Chapter 23

  Pain.

  Hurt.

  Agony.

  Torture.

  Fear.

  Nothingness.

  Those feelings repeated over and over.

  I didn’t know how to carry on, or even if I wanted to.

  I was lost, holding onto memories, hoping for miracles.

  I knew he wasn’t going to walk through my door, but admitting that meant admitted he was gone forever.

  I couldn’t fathom the idea of him not being somewhere, thinking about me the way I was thinking about him. It hurt so much knowing I couldn’t have been there with him in his last minutes on this earth. I wondered if he thought about me, or if it happened quick and he didn’t have to suffer.

  I was also curious how his family was coping, and if Branch had finally admitted that love was more important than any competition.

  With Brooks death came so many unanswered questions.

  It’s amazing how life can change in the blink of an eye. Within seconds, all of my hopes and dreams were gone. The only thing keeping me coherent was the two people that depended on me every day.

  Bobby held me all night, only taking breaks to lend a hand with B. I think me being upset was making her on edge. She was fussy for no apparent reason. No matter what I tried to do to comfort her, she wouldn’t settle. He coaxed her and sang to her like he always did and she was soon fast asleep in her room.

  That night I laid in bed, wrapped in his arms and weeping uncontrollably. He never asked me for a
n explanation, nor did he act jealous or inconsiderate. In fact, Bobby was heaven sent, worrying only about getting me calmed down before anything else.

  Even when I woke in the middle of the night, he was there for me until I could fall back asleep.

  This didn’t just happen for the next day or two. Weeks went by and my depression only got worse. By the time I’d gained enough courage to reach out, it was too late. I knew Brooks’ family would have already had some kind of memorial, besides, knowing I was the reason that he’d joined the military wouldn’t sit well with two parents who’d just lost their son.

  With the help of the church and Bobby, I found a therapist who I started going to that was trying to help me cope. They didn’t just need to help me heal my broken heart. They needed to replace it completely. I was shattered, so much so that I felt like every day was like living in a parallel universe. I went about the motions, but never accomplished anything. I hardly ate and barely slept.

  Night after night, I’d sit there reading my shoebox of letters, treasuring Brooks’ last words to me, as if we were meant to reconnect again, just to say goodbye.

  Aside from my therapist, I’d finally decided that it was time to share my feelings with Bobby. After all, in the wake of losing Brooks, he’d been my rock and still was.

  I’d asked him to give me a couple days to conjure up enough courage to talk about it. It used up my energy when all I could do was cry about it.

  We sat down and I had the box of letters so that he could have the option of reading every one. If I wanted to move forward, he needed to know what I’d done behind his back. If he hated me for it, I would understand. I deserved it.

  He wasn’t exactly a saint himself, and knowing that was the only reason that I’d decided to tell him the truth. I figured if I could forgive him for hitting me, he could forgive me, even though loving someone else may have seemed a bit different than a few slaps. After losing Brooks, I would have traded a lifetime of physical abuse for one more day with him.

  Bobby sat there across from me, waiting.