by Monica James
“Excuse me.” I snap my head his way. I’ve kept my mouth shut, but he’s just crossed a line.
Just as I’m about to set him straight, Jude clenches his fist, his nostrils flared. “Don’t you ever call her that. Try it again, and I won’t be so understanding of your predicament.”
Henry curls his lip. “What predicament? My life was perfect until you walked into it.”
“You are such a narrow-minded fool. Look around you. Things are not what they seem.”
“Jude.” I stand, shaking my head. This is not the way. I know he’s upset, and Henry doesn’t deserve our compassion, but this is not the way to tell him.
However, as expected, Jude doesn’t listen, and storms over to where Jillian sits still, almost corpse-like. A sniffle wracks her tiny body every so often. “Hello, Jillian! Can you hear me?” He waves a hand in front of her face while she doesn’t bat an eyelash.
“Jillian!” he shouts louder this time, now waving both hands in a wide circle inches from her face. “I’m sorry your husband is such a jackass.”
I rub my brow.
“Get out!” Henry roars, storming over to Jude.
But Henry’s threat doesn’t deter Jude in the slightest. “Jillian, wake up!” he bellows into her ear. She remains stone-faced and entranced.
Henry tugs on Jude’s forearm, spinning him around to face him. His flaring nostrils, twitchy eye, and heavy breathing all expose he’s seconds away from punching Jude in the face.
I squeak, unbelieving how that went from naught to one hundred in a second. “Stop it!” I urge, but I may as well not be here.
“I should shut that smart mouth of yours for good,” Henry threatens, glaring, his lip coiled.
“Go on then, hit me,” Jude mocks, stepping forward, not intimidated in the slightest.
Henry growls, and it appears he’s about to take Jude up on his offer. He’s in good shape, but Jude’s towering frame overshadows the sheriff. “I won’t feel it,” Jude taunts. Henry misinterprets Jude’s comment as Jude calling him weak.
Pandemonium erupts. I shout for Henry to stop when he dives forward to strike Jude while Jude stands proud, challenging him to give it his best shot. The only voice of reason is when Jillian sobs. “I miss you so much. None of this makes any sense.”
Henry freezes, pain etching at his face. “Jillian?” He no doubt has heard her say these words before. Hearing them again, I now understand what she means.
“Look at her!” Jude shouts, pointing at Jillian. “She’s broken. No matter how much of an asshole you are, I know you’re not stupid! Deep down, you know something isn’t right. Let us show you why.” Jude exhales, pulling at his hair with both hands.
I watch with bated breath. Just when I think he’s going to throw us out, he remarkably nods. “Fine. But I’ll meet you there.”
Jude shrugs, uncaring. “Have it your way. Meet us at Saint Mary’s Hospital. Room 201.”
I’m expecting to see shock, confusion, or horror swarming around Henry, but all I see is dread.
I’m quiet on the drive, but my silence reveals there is anything but stillness crawling around my mind.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t get Jillian’s lost, vacant look out of my head. She’s a shell, a husk of who she used to be. I can’t help but wonder if looking at Jillian is like looking into the future. Is that what I have to look forward to? Living in the past and finding comfort in my memories. I blink back my tears as I stare out the window, not wanting Jude to read my sadness.
We park the car, then walk into the hospital in silence. Thoughts continue to plague me. I wonder if we have to drive. I marvel at a lot of things. I eat, although I can’t really taste. I sleep, although I don’t need the rest. A sense of sadness overwhelms me.
“Jude.” It’s the first word spoken in what seems like forever.
“Yes.”
“Do we have to drive? Or sleep? Or bathe? I mean, no one can see us.” As if on cue, a nurse marching down the hallway walks through…yes, through me. I yelp. I didn’t feel a thing, but still, it just cemented my point.
Jude sighs. He suddenly looks so tired. “I live how I would if I were alive. I don’t have to drive, or eat, or shower, but I do. It’s the only way I can stay here and stay sane.”
I can see how difficult this is to talk about, so I let it rest. But his theory seems understandable. But it also drives home the point that we’re both testing fate. Jude slides his hand into mine, an instinctive action which reinforces the fact that he’s now a part of me.
Suddenly, the closer we get to my room, the more trapped I feel. Will my coma self remember Jude if I choose to wake, or will all of this feel like a dream? My chest squeezes, unable to accept a reality so bleak.
Focusing on why we’re here, I pull back my shoulders and try my best to stay strong. Henry is leaning against the wall, looking more than unimpressed that we dragged him here. “You have two minutes.”
Jude snickers, shoving past him. “I only need one.” He never lets go of my hand as he slowly opens the door to my room. He peers down at me, ensuring I’m all right. I nod even though my legs are trembling.
Henry waits for a second before he pushes off the wall and marches into the room confidently. I watch as he turns solid, his entire body seizing up. We can all see the grisly sight before us of me lying deathly still in the single bed. My dark hair contrasts the stark white of the pillow, my sealed eyes contradicting what I’m currently seeing. The machines are humming, keeping me breathing for another day.
I will never grow comfortable seeing myself this way. The old me versus the new me. Which person do I prefer?
“What the hell?” Henry gasps, shaking his head.
Jude doesn’t sugarcoat the truth. “Henry, this is Victoria. She’s been in a coma for nine months. If it wasn’t for you, she’d be dead.”
“If it wasn’t for the both of you,” I correct, squeezing his hand.
“This is not possible.”
“Yes, it’s very possible,” Jude amends.
I don’t know what Henry’s reaction is, but I know it’s probably not good. “Henry…” Stepping out from Jude’s cocoon, I walk toward Henry and stand by his side. The closer I get to myself, the sicker I feel. Ignoring the nausea, I continue. “Jude is right. Nine months ago, I got”—I take a centering breath—“shot. I would have died if it weren’t for Jude and you. Jude came to my rescue, sacrificing his life for mine. And you called it in.”
“I what?” Risking a glance, I see that his mouth is jarred open, his eyes riveted to the bed.
“I know this doesn’t make any sense, but please believe me when I tell you, you and Jude, you’re both―” But I can’t. The words get strangled in my throat as I gag on them.
“We’re dead, Henry,” Jude concludes, using the word I still can’t accept. “You must have felt something wasn’t right for a long time now. People ignoring you? One day blending into the next? Waking up not remembering what happened the day before? Feeling more alone than you’ve ever felt in your entire life?”
I lower my eyes, saddened that Jude is retelling this story from personal experience.
“The reason is because you’re not really here anymore. Neither of us are. We’re ghosts. No surprise it seems you hate me as much in this world as you did in the previous.”
If Henry weren’t already dead, I’d be afraid he was seconds away from having a heart attack. He knows what Jude is saying is true, but he doesn’t want to accept it. How can anyone accept something so farfetched?
He finally tears his eyes from my sleeping form, looking at me as though he’s seen a ghost. “Is what he says true?” It appears Jude was right all along.
“Yes. I’m so sorry, but yes. I know it’s a lot to―”
He doesn’t let me finish, though, and storms toward me with his fists clenched by his side. “He put you up to this, didn’t he?”
“What? N-No.” I fumble over my words, his hostility out of left field.
“Bullshit! You’re both trying to trick me.”
“Trick you how?” Jude’s voice no longer holds contempt or anger. He simply sounds defeated.
“I-I don’t know, but I don’t believe a word that comes from either of your mouths.”
“Henry.” I try to comfort him, but he recoils so quickly, he almost falls backward onto the bed.
“Don’t come anywhere near me. Either of you.”
I don’t know what else to say, so I raise my hands in surrender, indicating he’s free to leave.
He takes the offer and runs from the room, his feet slipping on the linoleum as he disappears down the hallway. Looking at Jude, I sigh. “Sorry.” I was foolish to think Henry would believe me.
“It was never going to be easy. But we’ve planted the seed.”
“So what happens now?” I ask, slowly turning around to face him.
With a slow swagger, he makes his way over to me. Swathing a hand around my waist, he draws me to his broad chest. “We watch it grow.”
“And what if―”
I don’t get to finish because I’m silenced when he plants his finger against my mouth. “Life is too short not to eat the cake.”
A ghost of a smile touches my lips. “What does that mean?”
“It means he’ll come around.”
“When did you get so smart?” I whisper around his finger.
Flicking my bottom lip, he replies, “Right around the time you told me you loved me.” It’s exactly what I need to hear. Just as he lowers his delicious mouth to mine, the door opens, and I wheeze in horror.
Bryan looks just as he did the last day I saw him. However, when he looks over at the bed, I no longer see the love I once saw. The door locks with a gentle click, but it suddenly feels amplified in the small room.
He stands silent, hands dug deep in his pockets. “Hi, Tori. I’d ask how you are, but I know you’re not going to answer.” He ambles to the foot of the bed, looking down at me miserably. “I don’t know what to do, baby. You were the smart one in our relationship, and if you were here now, you’d tell me what to do. Sometimes, I feel you, like right now—” He touches my leg through the blanket, but I don’t feel a thing. “But most of the time, I don’t.
“The strange thing is, wherever you choose to go, I know that place makes you happy. So maybe I’m being selfish by keeping you here. Maybe your parents are right, and I have to let you go. I at least have to give you the option to choose. If I do that and you come back to me, then I know it was your choice. If you don’t”—he shrugs with a sigh—“then at least I know you were given the choice to choose.
“Being hooked up, we’re taking away your free will. And I couldn’t bear it if we were keeping you here and you didn’t want to stay.”
Tears spill down my cheeks. I don’t bother wiping them away because I know more will take their place.
“So I’m here to tell you that…I’m letting you go. You always loved Sunday morning sunrises. You said there was magic in the air—that we survived another week, and you looked forward to living another seven days with me. So I think it’s fitting that this Sunday is your day.
“It’s all up to you now, Victoria. Know that whatever decision you make, I’ll respect it. I don’t deserve you after everything I’ve done. I don’t blame you for staying hidden away. But know that Matilda and I miss you. So much. The future is in your hands now.” He wipes away his tears with the back of his wrist before kissing me on the cheek.
I gasp. His kiss lingers. I can feel his whiskers; smell his cologne. How is that possible? He walks past where I’m standing and stops. He looks directly at me, lost in thought. I know he can’t see me, but can he feel me? He shakes his head as if to dispel any thoughts and leaves a second later.
I don’t bother moving as actions escape me right now. My gaze flutters to Jude. He’s slouched against the far wall with his boot braced behind him. His shoulders are drooped, and his head is lowered, his gaze affixed to an invisible spot on the floor.
I know what he’s thinking. I know what he’s going to say.
“Take me home?” I whisper, afraid he’ll say no. He nods with a stiff upper lip, not meeting my eyes.
We walk to the truck in a deadly silence. I don’t bother looking where I’m going. I’ve accepted that I’m transparent matter in this world, but I’m very much alive in another. He opens the door for me, still refusing to look me in the eye.
“Jude?” I beg, but he turns his cheek when I attempt to console him. I jump in, feeling deflated and hollow. The engine roars to life after he slams his door shut. The harsh sounds mimic his enmity. I can’t stand this emptiness between us, but I need to give him time.
He wants me to go back. He doesn’t need to say it. Bryan affirmed what we both knew to be true. Time is running out for me. I need to choose, and I need to choose now. But how can I? Either way, I lose. Tears sting my eyes, but I discreetly wipe them away with my sleeve.
The fleeting landscape of towering trees, lush greenery, and picturesque, rolling hills flashes before me, and I wonder if what I’m seeing is really there. Jude did say the dead see what they want to see. Am I just like Henry, fabricating what I want to see? Feel? Touch? A whimper escapes me, betraying my fears.
Without so much as a warning, I brusquely bounce into the passenger door as Jude takes a sharp turn and speeds down a dark gravel road. I hold the door handle, my body jarring from the force. Jude doesn’t slow down. His knuckles are white from gripping the wheel so firmly. He’s wound up so tight, I’m afraid to see what happens when he’s ready to let go.
The tires skid over the dirt as he pulls to a jarring stop, killing the engine, before jumping from the truck. He doesn’t bother closing the door. The headlights capture his transition from man to caged beast when he paces feverishly, hands interlaced behind his neck. He tilts his head, eyes raised to the heavens as his chest rises and falls.
I’m afraid as I unbuckle my seat belt and step from the truck. The trees rustle and sway as the wind blows around us with a punishing force. “Jude?” My voice is small, fearful.
He freezes, buried under a blanket of pain. “We have to end this, Victoria. I won’t be the cause of your death.”
“But you’ll allow me to be the cause of yours?” I bite back, squashing down my sorrow.
He places a hand over his heart. “It’s too late for me, but it’s not for you. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Live for me. Live the life I couldn’t live.” He charges over to me, the force pushing me two feet back. “Knowing my death gave you life is enough. I think I can…leave now.”
“Leave?” My lower lip begins to tremble. A June beetle sounds in the distance, the echo hollow, just like my heart.
He looks solemn as he confesses, “Yes, I was never supposed to stay here. I’m on borrowed time, and I have a feeling my number is almost up.”
Charley’s words ring loudly in my ears. “No!” I cry. “You can’t go.”
“I have to. It’s the only way.”
His determination drives me forward. “Why can’t we just wait and see what happens when Sunday comes? Why do we have to choose?”
His heartfelt reply brings tears to my eyes. “Because you don’t belong here. You never did. That’s the way things are supposed to be. You’re alive for a reason, Tori. You’re destined for great things. I can feel it. And you can be rest assured that I’ll be watching you every step of the way.”
His comment drives home how elaborate our situation really is. “I don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore. Without you, everything I’ve experienced won’t feel real.”
He steps forward, his wild fragrance engulfs me. “I’m real. What we had was real. No matter what universe we’re in…I’ll never forget it.”
“But what if I do?” I whisper, my fears catching on the wind.
“Remember now.” His touch is warm against my cheek, affirming his words.
Leaning into his palm, I cand
idly confess, “I have one foot in each world, but my tie to reality is fading each day. My north is you, Jude, and I know it’s only a matter of time before I slip and land in your world for good.”
He pulls his hand away with a hiss. “No, I won’t allow it. I can’t stand by and watch you die.”
“It’s not your choice to make.”
“How can I live with myself knowing the sacrifice you made? No.” He stubbornly shakes his head.
“We don’t even know what will happen. I may not be able to go back.” He turns somber at the prospect. “My heart belongs here with you. It’s useless in a body that can’t feel. Can’t love.”
He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them and revealing his torture. “Don’t say that. I want you to live. Do everything you’ve wanted to do. Go back to Australia. Or back to Bridgeport. Find l—” He stops, exhaling painfully before continuing. “Love. Have lots of babies. I can’t give you that,” he reveals with an inconsolable frown.
“Jude.” I step forward, careful to give him his space. “This has to be real, the life I’m destined to live because I’ve never hurt so badly before. This pain eating away at me”—I tug at the front of my sweater—“is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. It hurts. Leaving you hurts. That shows me I’m alive.”
“No, Victoria. Don’t make this harder than it already is. Please.” He turns his back, digging his hands into his pockets.
A thought suddenly occurs to me. One that hasn’t before. “Is the thought of being with me for eternity that awful?”
“What?” Disbelief engulfs him as he spins around.
I raise my shoulders limply. “Maybe you’re having second thoughts. About us. I know I’m stubborn, relentless, and headstrong. Maybe I’m not the person you want to spend forever with.” I wipe away a tear. This belief makes me feel sick. “If that’s the case, then…”
He doesn’t let me finish. He reaches me in two huge strides, the anger humming out of his taut frame. His ferocity takes my breath away. It invades every pore in my body, and an ache builds within.
“Don’t you ever say that!” he exclaims, silencing the distance between us. “Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I want to say goodbye? The thought of another man loving you, touching you”—he thrusts his left hand into my hair and tugs firmly—“is unbearable to me. I wanted to rip off Bryan’s arms and beat him to death with them.” A low growl erupts from his chest. “The thought of another man inside you”—he tightens his hold, fisting my locks—“drives me insane. I have an uncontrollable urge to hurt anyone who touches you. So don’t you dare say I don’t want to spend forever with you because forever is not long enough.
