“Go ahead, then,” she called as I raced for the door, failing to grab even a jacket. “You’ve been running for most of your life.” Her words stung, but I didn’t wait around long enough to feel the full weight of them.
* * *
Jax
That could not have gone worse. I pulled the car out of underground parking and began driving north. I replayed the conversation repeatedly, along with Elena’s horrified expression. The betrayal and hurt in her eyes. Cat wanted to be the one to tell her about Jamie, but when it came down to it, she froze. I did too.
Sitting in rush hour traffic on my way to Cat and Nick’s home to collect Jamie, I couldn’t help but stare numbly at the string of cars held at the red light. I had planned out in my head how Elena might react when she discovered the truth. There were a thousand different scenarios, but none of them prepared me for the pain of how she’d truly responded. The complete and full body rejection of her life. Our life. If she ran away and never came back again, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Doubts swirled in my mind: Had today been the right time to tell her? Should I have stayed? Could I have been more delicate in telling her about Jamie and our relationship? Had I lost her forever? The move to tell Elena today was a hasty decision, but I had to do it. It might have been the only way to save our family.
I’d arrived home earlier that day from a long night shift. No one had been awake at six a.m. as I tiptoed around the apartment, determined to make it to the dingy old daybed in the spare bedroom before passing out. That was until a foreign object stopped me in my tracks. A huge bouquet of flowers with a balloon reaching the ceiling had been placed on the dining table. On closer inspection, I could tell they were pricey, oversized, with a florist’s card poking from the arrangement, professionally delivered. My stomach was already churning before I had a chance to read the card.
Dear Elena,
Your quick recovery is inspirational, and I’m very pleased you are feeling like your old self again. Though years have passed, I still take those canal walks in Nottingham and think of you. Remembering the time we almost fell in! I can’t wait to see you in person in a couple of weeks. It’s been far too long.
All my love,
Tom
I could have crushed the card in my hand as I gritted my teeth. Not only was he constantly calling, now he was sending gifts, and next he would be visiting. My first thought had been of Jamie. He’d never met his biological father, and the thought of Tom being within a one-mile radius of this apartment had made me sick to my stomach. My chest had tightened, and my breathing had accelerated. My mind had clouded over as I’d felt panic. He was doing it. Sliming his way back into her heart, and what was worse, Elena was letting him. Tom was pulling her back in and maybe one day, Jamie too.
My phone had already been in hand, and I’d pressed Dial. A groggy Cat had answered the call, and just like that, the plan to tell Elena had been made. Cat had her doubts by the time she got to the apartment that afternoon. We’d argued, and she’d tried to reason with me not to tell her. “Wait and see if her memory comes back.” But by that time, I might have lost her. She was already slipping away, but now, as I replayed Elena’s reaction on a never-ending loop, I wondered if Cat was right.
I’m not gay. Elena’s voice echoed in my mind, serving as a reminder of how different she was. This can’t be my life. An ache rippled with every beat of my heart as tears rushed to my eyes. That was not my Elena. The woman I married was undeniably true to herself and confident in what she wanted. It had taken a lot of therapy to get her to face her demons, the past traumas she’d faced during high school, which had led to years of unacceptance, denial, and unhappiness. St Catherine’s Boarding House, a boarding school in the midlands of England, specialised in conversion therapy and was Elena’s punishment at fifteen when her parents had caught her in bed with her first girlfriend. Too ashamed to tell anyone, she’d suffered for years, suppressing her same-sex attraction. That led to a cycle of her chasing toxic relationships because she genuinely believed she deserved nothing more than heartache.
Elena had carried the shame of disappointing her parents for years, and the recent loss of memory meant she couldn’t remember coming to terms with her sexuality. The complexities of Elena’s past, and the massive amount of development she had done in the last eight years, had created an entirely different woman than who she was in her twenties. That, in a nutshell, had been the primary reason we hadn’t told her about her son and our relationship. It was also the reason our flirting over the last week hadn’t been able to progress. Elena was never going to allow herself to really feel what she wanted to feel. Not until she learned to accept herself.
“You’ve barely said a word, Keelin.” Mum interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up at her face. Seated opposite me at the kitchen table, she gave a small smile, the crinkles around her lips multiplying. “Things will get better, love.” She rubbed my hand softly. “But until then, you and Jamie can stay as long as you need.”
“Thanks, Mum,” I replied, tightening my grip on her hand.
“Do you remember what your da would always say after a bad day?” I felt myself well up, knowing exactly the phrase she was going to say. “It’s always darkest before the dawn. Things look tough now, but they’ll get better.” I nodded along with her, even though that advice seemed unimaginable.
Chapter Eleven
I ran from the apartment with no idea where I was going. All I knew was, I couldn’t stay there any longer after hearing the news. I had a son. I was married. To a woman. My mind was spiralling out of control with a thousand thoughts. It took me almost twenty minutes of pacing through the streets of London to realise it was raining, heavily, and I was umbrella-less and without even a jacket. My drenched jumper clung to my skin, but I was far too numb to feel the chill in the air.
I darted into a coffee shop to seek refuge only to realise it was the same coffee shop I had visited just last weekend with Jax and Jamie. The hardwood floors were darkened from customers trapesing in from the rain. Brit rock played softly in the background. Upon approaching the counter, I was surprised to be met by the same barista, Cassie, who had served us last week.
“What can I get you?” It took a moment before she seemed to recognise me, and a warm smile spread across her face. “Hey, I know you. You’re Jax’s wife, right?”
The question threw me as the news from today came crashing over me again, stunning me momentarily. I am Jax’s wife. I couldn’t find the words to reply, but thankfully, it wasn’t necessary as Cassie continued her breezy chit-chat, oblivious to my internal meltdown.
“Let me see if I can remember your order. Hmm, a latte with an extra shot?” I nodded, still unable to string a sentence together. “Yes!” She congratulated herself while starting to prepare the coffee. “To be fair, you guys are pretty regular in here, so it’s hardly a challenge. And how’s little Jamie doing?” Again, I couldn’t respond, too bewildered to force politeness. “He’s such a cute kid, I’m always praising Jax. You know, I get a ton of families coming in here, and it’s always a mess when they leave, but with Jamie, he is so well-behaved. You struck lucky with him.” She placed the coffee in front of me.
“Thank you,” I managed to croak. I felt myself crumble inside because deep down, I knew he was the most important thing in my life. That was the effect Jamie had on me. “How much do I owe you?” I said before releasing I’d left the house without my purse. I frantically searched my pockets, but Cassie reassured me of humanity.
“It’s on the house. You look like you need it.” She smiled warmly. “Besides, Jax and Greg keep this place going with the amount of coffee they buy on a daily basis.”
Sitting at a bench, I warmed myself beside the radiator while finally giving myself the time I needed to think. The afternoon ran through my brain on a continuous loop with more questions arising than I could keep track of. Hours must have passed. I heard the scraping of chairs being lifted onto tables, revealing I was
the last customer. I waved good-bye to Cassie and walked home slowly, dragging my feet the entire way. Though I was dreading speaking to Cat again, I knew she would be the best person to answer the burning questions, even if it was going to be painful.
When I arrived at the apartment again, I found it empty. My sister was gone long ago. I’d never realised how big and empty the apartment felt when alone, almost lifeless.
“Jamie?” I wishfully called. A gentle push of his bedroom door revealed his absence. “Jax?” I found a quiver in my voice as I moved toward her bedroom. Silence followed, confirming she was gone as well.
I had never set foot in her room; in fact, I’d never seen the door open. I hesitated, not sure if I wanted to cross that boundary, but at the same time, perhaps it would reveal answers. With a flick of the light switch, the small space lit up, revealing her sleeping quarters. I wouldn’t class it as a bedroom in its current state. It looked like more of a dumping ground, with barely enough room for a small daybed at one end and what I could only imagine was Jamie’s old crib at the other end. Boxes were piled in the corner with old baby furniture crowding the space. Jax’s clothes and scrubs had been thrown into the crib. She clearly had nowhere else to store them in here. Guilt swelled in my chest.
For weeks, she had lived without a proper bed or wardrobe and had managed to hide the fact that this room wasn’t her bedroom at all. Perhaps Jax thought it would be more temporary, that she would soon return to the master bedroom. Other elements began to make sense, like why my wardrobe was half-empty. Because the person I used to share it with had to erase all evidence of her existence.
Countless picture frames had also been heaped into Jamie’s old crib, likely removed from around the house. I reached for a handful in an attempt to gain greater clarity about the life I had forgotten and couldn’t help but smile. In each photograph, I looked happy. Happier than I had felt in a long time. Some picture frames were playful, others even rejigged a hazy memory, but nothing was as impactful as seeing a snapshot of my wedding day.
My white dress was simple, inexpensive, and I walked on the beach holding my high-heeled shoes. The gown wasn’t what I would have pictured for myself, but then again, I’d never really thought I would marry. Only people in love got married.
Jax was dressed in a pair of beige slacks with a matching waistcoat and pale blue shirt. She watched me with utter devotion, but she wasn’t the only one caught in a daze. Jamie was also in the picture with an outfit matching Jax’s, and he stared at me as if I was the most important person in the world. We looked unbelievably happy, walking, holding hands with Jamie in between us. Tiny droplets landed on the picture, confirming that my blurred vision was from tears as they rolled down the glass. I wasn’t sure how long I stared at the picture, but one thing was clear, I had to speak to my family again.
Within an hour, I arrived at Cat’s home, significantly drier after having remembered a coat and umbrella. Nick answered the door and smiled warmly. “Hey, kid.” He pulled me into a bear hug. “I was wondering when you would show up.”
I melted in his arms. The door closed behind us, but I continued to latch on to him, unaware of how much I needed that hug. The tapping of four feet moved down the hallway as Nick and I parted, and Marco, their golden retriever, began sniffing around my hands. I patted him on the head, and he looked up at me with soft eyes. Even the dog could tell I was a mess.
“You had your sister worried sick.”
“Just my sister?” I raised a brow teasingly.
He grinned, not willing to admit how much he cared. Shuffling noises from farther inside revealed Cat’s whereabouts.
“Do me a favour, huh?” he whispered as he nodded toward the kitchen. “Please go easy on her. There’s no one in this world she cares more about than you.” He warmed my heart and nudged me toward the kitchen as he moved back into the lounge to finish watching the football match. “Well, except me.”
“You keep telling yourself that, Nick,” I said, and he laughed to himself before disappearing from sight.
I walked slowly toward the kitchen and found my sister frantically cleaning. Standing on a dining room chair, half of her body disappeared into the back of one of the kitchen cabinets as she scrubbed. She was not a cleaner. The only time she fussed was when she was worried about something or someone.
“Need a hand?” I asked as she emerged, looking haggard and exhausted.
“I thought you’d be halfway to Albuquerque by now,” she returned, but there was no malice.
“My flight leaves tomorrow,” I teased as she climbed down from the chair and dusted herself off in avoidance. “Can we talk?” I sat at the dining table. “The place looks good, clean,” I lied as my gaze drifted around the chaos and cluttered countertops.
“No, it doesn’t.” She closed the distance between us. “It looks exactly like how I feel.” She took a seat. “Where’d you go?”
“I went to the Java Hut for a while. Walked about. Tried to make sense of everything.”
“How’d that work out?”
“Why didn’t you just tell me, Cat?” I asked, desperately needing clarity.
“I was scared. Really scared that if you found out about Jamie and Jax, you’d run.” She shrugged defeatedly. “And you did.” I stared at my hands, a little guilty until her voice pulled me back. “But you came back. That takes courage. Elena, you have to know, I only wanted to protect you.”
“But you understand why I feel so betrayed?”
“Of course I do. Not telling you about them was wrong on so many levels. If I’d known your memories wouldn’t be back by now, I would have never kept Jamie and Jax from you.”
“Okay, I can accept that,” I said. Cat visibly relaxed. “I’m just struggling so much with…Jamie is one thing but then…”
“Jax,” she finished, and I nodded slowly. “I thought that might be harder for you to accept.” She reached across for my hand. “Because of what happened.”
“I told you about school?” She nodded. “When?”
“A few years ago. Your therapist recommended it.”
“Dr Neill,” I said, and she tilted her head in surprise. “I remember. It’s a little blurry, but I remember talking with him. About my experiences. I guess I needed a shrink, huh?” I half joked, but she clearly didn’t see the humour.
“It took a long time for you to come to terms with it.” Her voice softened as she dipped her head to meet my eyes. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Cat. You were just a kid.”
“I was older than you.”
“You didn’t even know. I never told you what was happening at school. I didn’t want you to know.” I tried to lessen her guilt by clutching her hand, but she shook her head, dismissing me.
“I didn’t want to know,” she replied, clearly angry at herself as her eyes welled up. “For years, you were in that place. I could have helped you. I was in England too, remember?”
She had been accepted to the University of Oxford just months prior to me being sent away when I was fifteen. Oxford was just two hours south of my prison school. In Cat’s first couple of years of university, we would text every other day but rarely called, so she had no idea how crushed my spirit was. We only saw each other at home during the summer holidays or at Christmas. My own sister had no idea of the hell I was living in. So many nights, I’d wished Cat would come and rescue me from the awful boarding school, but I was too ashamed to tell her why I was there in the first place.
“Getting drunk every weekend meant I didn’t have time to check on my baby sister when you were—”
I gripped her hand tight and shushed her. “That was a long time ago,” I told her, but the guilt she felt was still lingering in her eyes. “I know you would have done everything to help me if I’d been brave enough to tell you.”
She nodded desperately, no doubt in an effort to reassure me. “I wanted to wait to tell you about Jax because of St Catherine’s.
” I tensed at hearing its name aloud. I struggled to think about the school. My brain had seemed to develop a coping mechanism, preventing me from dwelling on that time in my life. “Those practises at St Catherine’s are unthinkable.” Hearing it again was like a trigger, a gunshot, causing suppressed memories to regurgitate in my head.
Same-sex attraction is an illness. We are here to help you heal.
The nuns would justify their actions. Forcing us to write essays about opposite-sex attraction and reciting the Lord’s Prayer in the hope of healing our sinful thoughts.
You’re a disappointment to your families.
You’re very sick.
When you’re better, you can go home again.
The voices swirled in my head as my breathing turned shallow and my vision blurred. All I ever wanted was to go home, but my parents said I couldn’t until I was cleansed. I was only freed because they couldn’t legally keep me any longer.
“Are you okay?” She scanned my face as I nodded slowly and forced down the demons for another day. Cat spoke again, pulling me back into the room. “I was scared that if I told you about Jax, you would lose it. Even the first time you realised you liked her, you shut down. Right after New York.”
My brain began to race. “What happened in New York?” I thought back to the patchy memories I’d regained, but our interactions had been mostly platonic, and there was no memory of me “shutting down.”
“You don’t remember?” she asked. I shook my head. “Greg said that might happen. Your mind protecting itself from recalling more painful memories.” She took a beat before continuing. “You had a moment together, and it caused you to address your past.”
“A moment?” I asked. She raised a brow suggestively, indicating the not-so-innocent nature of the moment. “Oh, that kind of moment.”
“After New York, you weren’t yourself.” The dip in her voice refocused my attention away from hypothesising about the so-called moment with Jax. “You came home and were more closed up than ever, even with me. You threw yourself back into a relationship with Tom, and for years, you and Jax never spoke.”
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