I’m a shitty wife for not talking to him about my mom.
But he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t get it.
I’ve got the worst feeling in me after I walk back into the living room.
“Tobe,” I whisper, shaking his shoulder. “Tobias Lucius.”
I nudge him a few times. Finally, his snoring stops, and he jolts a little.
“I’m up. I’m up!”
I laugh at the sleepy expression on his face.
When his eyes focus on me, he visibly relaxes. “Did you really have to middle name me?”
That gets a full-blown laugh. “Well, your loud sleeping ass wouldn’t wake up.”
“Fair enough. What time is it?”
“Three.”
“I should go,” he says sleepily.
“Wake up a little first. Don’t need you falling asleep on the way home.”
After he gets moving and doesn’t seem as tired, he leaves. Instead of going to my bed, I cuddle the couch blanket, snuggling into it like it’s my husband.
Sometimes, you just need something to hold you in the moment so you don’t get lost. I’m one to hide in my mind, but worry eats at me.
He’s never not made it home.
After thirty minutes, I get up, searching for my phone. There are no missed calls or texts. Typing out the first thing that comes to mind, I wait for his response. Nothing.
Hours pass as I sit here. My body, no longer sheltered by the blanket, shivers. It’s winter, and I have the heat lower at night. Usually, Jase’s body keeps mine warm.
Not tonight.
Tonight, I’m all alone.
Tonight is the first day of clarity.
And he’s not even here to witness it.
I must’ve dozed off. By the time my eyes open again, it’s from the front door closing. I check my phone. It’s five.
Jase sneaks in, shoes in hand, hair mussed, clothes disheveled, face full of emotion—one that concerns me.
Why is he so late?
Why does he look like that?
My stomach drops. No, he must’ve just stayed out. Don’t read into it.
He doesn’t notice me as he creeps into the bathroom. The shower turns on, and I sit here numb.
Happy place. Think of your happy place.
It’s not over.
Say it isn’t over, and maybe it’ll come true.
My mind goes to its safe place, goes to the place not even Jase can reach. I think of white noise, of the black and white soundlessness. Yes, there’s noise, but it’s not decipherable. It’s a harrowing sound, one that erases your subconscious, keeping too many thoughts from leaking through. It’s like a filter, a graspable emotion guard. It’s how I’ve lasted so long. It’s how I’ve lived without them.
It’s like he didn’t know of both things we lost that night.
Both people who died.
Both hearts that stopped beating.
Did he forget?
Did he not feel the loss?
The lack of life the next day?
He’ll never know how it feels. He’ll never understand.
Time won’t take away the pain, and him throwing it to the side doesn’t help.
How could he abandon our love?
He takes a very long shower, longer than I can ever recall him taking, and something about it makes me sick to my stomach. Do I confront him? Do I bare my soul to the man who hasn’t considered my losses?
Shut your eyes.
Go to your safe place.
Let it ease you. It’ll take your pain away.
When he comes out of the shower, it’s too late. By then, my emotions are turned off. They’re that easy to turn off now. It’s like a mental click of a button. One trigger, that’s all it takes.
People use booze. People use pills. People cut and hurt themselves to ebb the anguish. I just allow my mind to take over. I lose myself in the white noise. I shut off, shut down, and leave them to battle themselves.
He sees me immediately, but it’s like my mind is in a fog. I know I’m supposed to ask him something, but I can’t recall what that something is.
“Lo?” He shakes my shoulders, smelling of my Jase but different too. “God dammit, Loren. What are you doing out here?”
His words ring in my mind, but I can’t place what he’s saying. It’s like I’m in a tunnel. My vision isn’t clear, and the train is ringing out around me, making my mind blurry.
“Your skin is ice. Fuck!” he yells, the towel from around his waist falling apart as he tries shaking me.
My mind registers his sadness, but the pain of everything is too much. And even though my eyes focus on the marks decorating his thighs, I refuse to accept them as real.
It’s a dream.
It’s all a fucking dream.
Maybe sleep will take me for good this time.
Maybe if I die, he can be happy. Maybe the kids will be, too.
chapter twenty
Present
Jase
I know I can’t fix what I’ve broken. Can’t even heal what I’ve severed. There’s a reason they tell you to not cut ties with the ones you love. The ache never goes away. The pain only goes on and on, and I severed that connection with my wife because I wasn’t man enough to deal with her heartbreak.
I don’t understand what she’s going through.
I’ve always prided myself in having a level head, not letting emotions get the better of me, but that created a monster in businessman’s clothing. A lesser man, a weaker man. One who doesn’t understand how pain works, how much sorrow a body and mind can carry, and what loss does to a person.
I might’ve lost, too, but I don’t understand the emotions Lo carries. I’ve always been able to not feel, especially when it comes to death. We all die someday, my dad always said.
Still, losing her, devastated me, but I had to be strong for Lo, had to bury her, and had to take care of our children. Lo never came back to me. She promised to come back, and she lied. She fucking lied.
It was after one of her clarity moments, I call them her “wake up” moments. They come when she’s having feelings. True feelings. Not robotic lies she tells everyone around us. They seep through, and she finally gives them life.
“Jason,” Lo whispers.
I look into her eyes, the brown of them glossed with emotion. Unlike normal, they aren’t empty. They’re clear. The fog is momentarily lifted.
The glossiness isn’t from hidden emotion, it’s from her truth, the one that comes when she least expects it. The ones that come in the form of salty droplets that pour like a rain after years of droughts, and it’s finally here. Her truth. Her wakening. Her rising.
My hands immediately go to her jaw, her smooth but strong jaw. I touch her skin, memorizing, holding this moment in my heart and mind. She lays next to me, her head on the pillow. She closes her eyes, as my hands glide across her cheeks.
“Hey, Peaches.” I let out a shaky breath, trying not to cry, trying to show her some strength, show her the love I have, the love she needs.
“I’m sorry, baby,” she whimpers, tears dripping, eyes closed in visible pain. Her tiny body shakes. She’s lost so much weight in the last year.
“Don’t. Don’t apologize. I know you’re hurting,” I hurry to respond, wanting to hold onto this moment for as long as possible. I’ve come to realize these seconds of clarity only last until the pain takes hold. Then, I literally watch the life drain from her eyes. I can even wave my hands in front of her, and still, she wouldn’t see me.
“I-I’m so sorry. I should be here. Should be aware. Should be a mom. I shouldn’t let the pain consume me.” She skitters out the words. Her gaze hovers over me, up and down with appreciation and love and something akin to nostalgia, it guts me seeing her this way.
Her palms come to my face, her thumbs rubbing the tears from my eyes. Shit. I don’t usually allow myself to break this fast, but there’s something so incredibly beautiful about seeing my wife come back to me, ev
en if only for minutes. These moments are everything. They’re worth the distance—worth the pain.
“I’ll be better, baby.” I see a real smile, small as can be but a smile nonetheless, tilt at her lips. “I’ll come back to you. I will.” Hope simmers inside me, boiling me alive, toppling over all the other emotions. Over the fear. Over the anxiety. Over the reality.
I close my eyes in anguish, hoping it’s true, praying it’s true. Our kids need her. They miss her. I miss her.
“I promise, Jase. I’ll get better. I’ll be better.”
She lays the softest kiss on my forehead, breathing life back into me. Her lips are burning me, imprinting their mark, staying with me until she can feel again, until I matter again.
“I love you so much, Peaches. Come back to me, okay?”
She nods her little head, her face blotchy with emotion. The torrential downpour that is her pain leaks from her eyes. “I promise.”
But she never did come back. Her moments of clarity became less and less and less. They nearly disappeared altogether. That is, until she gave them to my brother for the following two years.
And then, seven months ago, my wife slowly came back to life, but it wasn’t for me. It wasn’t because of me. It was for him. It was his doing.
The moments she saved for me—how she’d kiss me like she used to, hold me with passion, lust, and desperation—those all went to him. Her smiles were for him. Her happiness and giggles, they were his. I remember when he texted me, happy for her, happy in general. It was right before my affair started. It was before I went to Nora like Lo went to Toby.
Lo talked to me today! he texts. Like the one before all the mess. His text infuriated me. I got angry, jealous that my brother witnessed it.
Oh yeah? I reply.
Yeah! She told me about her mom, about the pain. She confided in me, Jase. Told me about how she knows she’s hurting you and the kids. I think she just needed time. She’s coming back.
I didn’t respond. I let it fester. I let the bitterness fill me. Instead of her husband, she came back for another man, and it continued to happen. Time after time, it became less about us and more about them.
Seven months ago, when she tried to act like it was okay, like she didn’t kiss him, and didn’t ruin our marriage by icing me out, I had been too resentful. She believed I should’ve waited while she gave herself to Toby, but by then, I’d broken.
By then, it was too late for us.
By then, I’d let Nora into my life. She healed parts of me, parts Lo damaged.
Now, I’ve got to be a man and pick up the pieces. I’ve got to save her, save our marriage, and hope she comes back to me... as mine.
Because at the end of the day, Lo is my wife. She’s my everything. Nothing or no one can come between that, not even our mistakes.
She hasn’t texted me back all day, not that I deserve a response.
After Toby punched me, I left to go home early. My jaw and eye are bruised, and my lip is busted. I’ve had a bag of peas on it for the last hour. It’ll definitely draw attention from everyone at Ace’s pick-up lane. Not that he’d approve anyway. It’s not elementary, it’s high school. Lo told me once that he’s embarrassed to be picked up. Today though, I’ve got zero patience and even fewer fucks, he’ll have to suck it up.
If he was driving, he’d never have let me take him this morning. I’m sure he won’t be happy to see me instead of his mom, either, but he’ll be out of school soon, and I’ve got to get him. Then I’ve got to come up with some plan to fix everything. Especially our relationship. He doesn’t talk to me. Not that I have the right, but it hurts, knowing I’ve distanced us. We’ll have some time alone to talk since I didn’t take Jaz to Ellie’s today. My mom has her, and she should already be waiting for me at home.
I pick up Ace, the drive is silent. So much for patching things up. When I’m pulling up to my house, Ellie’s car is in the driveway.
Fuck.
Ace gives me a dirty look, one that could slaughter an entire nation without remorse. It doesn’t stop with his glares though. He opens his door before I’m fully parked, slamming it shut. The car shakes and he’s already rushing to the house. I hurry out, hoping Ellie isn’t going to start shit in front of him. Or at all.
She wouldn’t. Not in front of the kids, right?
She’s standing with her hands on her hips, staring at me with a feral look in her eyes.
Ace scampers inside, slamming the door, and the death glare he gives me before it shuts wrecks me.
Ellie struts up to me, her face heated. She seems different. So angry.
“I'm pregnant, Jason.”
Fuck that. It can't be.
I'm shell-shocked. This isn’t happening. I used protection. She said she was on birth control. There's no fucking way she's pregnant with my child.
“No,” I mutter, lost for words. “No.” My response is merely a whisper in the wind, drifting like a leaf in the fall, disappearing like a flower when the snow comes.
“It's going to be okay,” she coos, gripping my arms, her hands like vines, squeezing me, suffocating me, making me lose balance.
Lo will never forgive this. This will be the end of us.
She won't come back now.
She'll never forgive me.
She'll pick him.
The violent upheaval in my body makes me sick. I wanted to purge us of our sins, wanted to win her back.
But there's no coming back from this.
We lost a daughter, and now Ellie has my child inside her?
Fuck.
chapter twenty-one
Present
Lo
We drive to my house separately, and I’m not prepared for what awaits me. My best friend and my husband stand in my driveway having a screaming match. What the hell? I park and hop out of my vehicle, curious as to why the hell she’s here. It’s not like she knows Jase and I blew up last night, that we imploded and might never come back to each other.
She couldn’t.
“You can’t fucking do this,” Ellie screams at him, her face as red as his.
I don’t know what the fuck they are talking about. Where are my kids? Are they okay? Did she bring Jazzy home?
They stop their back and forth when they see me and Tobe walking in their direction. I watch them warily. I’m completely baffled at their angry stances. Did I miss something?
“What’s up, guys?” I ask, my voice small and confused. I’m still raw. I left last night, and we haven’t spoken yet. None of us have.
My anxiety spikes, goosebumps cover me. My hairs stand on end, a wave of uncertainty filling me. I can’t tell if it’s because he just told me he was cheating or because Ellie never yells like this, not since Francis’ death, not since she blamed Tobe. Or maybe it’s from the fact that I caught her spouting hatred, and there aren’t many reasons for it. Jase hasn’t done anything wrong to her, and I haven’t even told her what happened last night.
“Just telling this asshole how I feel about his cheating,” she growls, gritting her teeth.
But I never told her, only of my suspicions.
Jason visibly pales, his face ashen and full of so many things I can’t decipher. Fear. Shock. Denial. His fists are clenched at his side, and when his eyes close tightly, my stomach drops. Nausea hits me like a wave at high tide. Holy fucking shit. No. I refuse to accept this. I fucking refuse.
“I’ve got to go,” I whimper before turning to Tobe. “Take me home.”
“You are home!” Jase hollers from behind me, but I ignore him, looking directly at his brother without turning back.
Toby must have the same conclusions as me because he’s shaking. I can feel it when he grabs me. His entire frame trembles. He’s soft, though, his hands encasing my wrists, trying to comfort me. Then, they’re rubbing my shoulders as we walk to his car.
“Lo!” Ellie exclaims.
I hear her feet running after me. If she touches me, I’ll fucking lose it. It’s her. It’s
always been her. Even in high school, it was her. At the first party, all the times she talked about her feelings about him, and when Francis died...
She had been obsessed. Why didn’t I see this sooner? How did I not realize this?
“Peaches,” Jase calls out after me, his voice quaking.
How dare he use that name, how fucking dare he! But I turn my head back, hearing the pain in his voice and wanting to fix it. Only, he chose this, and his mistakes and choices ruined us. He chose her. I feel my heart physically break with each step away from my home. I didn’t even get to see my kids.
They did this.
The feeling of someone holding my nose closed while smothering me with a pillow takes ahold of me. I’m suffocating. I grasp the air, my hands flinging. Tobe realizes this quickly, but I can hardly see him. I hear him yelling though.
“Get the fuck away. I swear to god, Jason, if you touch her,” he growls.
I’m blinking rapidly, trying to breathe.
“Inhale, Peaches.” a voice says. “That’s good, baby. Now, exhale.”
My lungs struggle to deflate, to do what the voice says.
“Breathe, baby. Breathe.”
My lungs burn, filling with oxygen, and I’m being hauled away in the next moment.
“I’ve got to keep walking, Sparkle. Because if I stop, I’m going to beat the shit out of Jase and tell Ellie to go fuck herself.”
I can’t speak. I’m numb. A simple nod in his direction is all I offer.
There’s no hiding the devastation left in the driveway. Worse, my heart stayed behind, too.
We arrive at his house, but I’m numb. My mind is completely trashed with images of Jase fucking my best friend. That’s what he did. He fucked my best friend. He stuck his dick into her. He shared parts of him, parts he promised to only share with me. He gave her pieces of himself I’ve never shared with anyone else. Because it’s always been him. Even with my doubts, insecurities, and comfort from Toby, Jase was always it for me.
Fuck. Did he use condoms? He had to, right? I did find those condoms, but that doesn’t mean they used them. Those lipstick stains from the past year, those hickeys, the condoms, all the fucking signs. All the time Ellie was gone from nannying, all the time she had me watch Gray so she could run errands... Was she with him? Was she fucking him the entire time? Did they fuck in his office? He never fucked me there. Told me it’s not a place to do that. Did Sally cover for him?
Inhale, Exhale Page 18
