The Loss Between Us

by Brooke McBride

  He comes back, and I realize I’m still holding onto his shirt. “Want your shirt back?”

  “Thanks.” He puts it back on, wet and filthy from the blood and dirt he wiped off of my foot and ankle. “Do you want to lean on me or do you want me to carry you?”

  “I’ll lean. I guess you’re going to have to drive my car though since it’s my right foot.”

  A smirk sneaks onto his face. “Too bad we didn’t bring my bike.”

  “You know you’re never going to get me on that thing, right?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Chapter 32

  Nash pulls into my driveway and walks around the passenger side to help me out. Leaning on him, I walk/hop up the path to the front door. I put the key in the lock and open the door.

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you need anything before I go?”

  “No, I think I can manage.” As I turn to move into the house, my hand instinctively lands on his chest. He looks down at it and back up at me.

  He steps closer. “You sure?” He asks.

  “Yeah, thanks.” I pull out of his grasp and am assaulted with a sudden chill even though it’s June.

  “I’ll come by tomorrow to see if you need an X-ray.”

  “I can’t afford that.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I have a buddy at work that owes me a favor. But we’ll wait and see what it looks like. Don’t forget to alternate between ice and heat tonight. Start and end with heat, and keep it elevated. Do you have a heating pad?”

  “Yeah, it’s upstairs in my bathroom.”

  Nash looks up the stairs and then back to me. “You know, you’re going to need help getting up the stairs.”

  I falter but he’s right. On the ride home, it felt as though my ankle was tighter, and I’m in a little more pain than I expected. “I guess...”

  He steps closer and then asks, “Are you incapable of asking for help?”

  My eyes shift to him and then up the stairs before landing back on the floor. “It’s not that, it’s just….”

  He puts his finger under my chin, leveling my eyes with his. “What?”

  “I don’t know, you’ve never been upstairs, it’s a little too….”

  “Intimate?”

  I swallow and mutter, “Yeah.”

  “Do you want me to call your parents? They could help.”

  “No, it’s late.”

  “Jen.” He inhales and pauses. “Do you want me to carry you?”

  I search for an excuse, any excuse. I’m not sure I can handle being in his arms again. But there isn’t an alternative. “Please.”

  “Before I do, what do you need from down here besides ice?”

  “There’s a book I’m reading on the coffee table. Can you grab that, please?”

  “Sure. Anything else? Water or something to eat?”

  “I’m not hungry, but a bottle of water would be good.”

  “Where’s your aspirin?”

  “Upstairs in the linen closet.”

  “Okay.” He leans down but angles his face back up to me like he’s asking for permission. I answer with a curt nod, and he grabs me around the waist and behind my knees. I close my eyes and force myself to remember that I’m in Jeff’s house. That this man should not be carrying me into our bedroom. But I can’t focus on that. All I feel is Nash’s body securely wrapped around mine as he carries me up the stairs. He abruptly stops, and I’m forced to open my eyes. I then realize he doesn’t know where he’s going.

  “That’s my bedroom.” The moment “my bedroom” leaves my mouth, I think of Jeff. That’s the first time I said mine, not ours. Even though it’s correct, my stomach rolls with nausea. I switch on the light, and we both gape at the neatly made king size bed. Our eyes seem to find each other, like two magnets drifting toward each other. He quickly looks away and starts to make his way to the edge of the bed. He gently sets me down and then moves to the top of the bed and begins to pull down the sheets for me but I grab his arm. “That’s okay. I can get it.”

  “Right. I’ll go down and get some ice and water and be right back.”

  “Thank you.”

  After he leaves the room, I sit there, frozen. My stomach is still quivering at the thought of another man in my bedroom. So many feelings flash through me: embarrassment, guilt, desire, confusion. I try to shake off the feelings by focusing on the task at hand. I shimmy up the bed and manage to get to my knees without putting weight on my ankle. I move the pillow so that it’s pressed against the headboard and rest against it. I can't believe I did this. Plus, that stair now needs to be fixed before I can move in. And what if the other ones are in the same condition? And how am I going to finish packing and move with a bum ankle?

  "Jensen, stop!” Nash’s voice startles me.

  "What?" I ask.

  He has a bottle of water in one hand, a bag of ice in the other and my book tucked underneath his arm. He strides over to me and sets the water and book on the nightstand. "What are you worrying about?"

  I shake my head. I don’t want to admit he’s right about the house.

  "Jen, what?"

  But I also don’t want to lie to him. "The house. Now I need to fix that stair, and I’m worried about the other ones. I mean, if that one is rotten the rest probably are too. And how am I supposed to pack and move with one leg?"

  He scoots closer to me as his eyes bore into mine. His hand drifts toward my face and he gently rubs his thumb along my cheek while cupping my face. I lean into his hand. "Don't worry about the house. I'll help you, and we'll make sure everything is safe before you move in. And I think the ankle will be okay in a few days. But you're going to have to stay off of it. Don't push it or you'll make it worse." He reaches over me to grab the other pillow and I inhale his scent again. It’s a scent I’ve grown accustomed to over the past few months, but for some reason it’s more noticeable tonight and I can’t help but lean further into him. "Lift." Nash grabs my leg and places it on top of the pillow. He moves it around and looks at it again.

  "Ow! Do you mind?"

  "Stop being a baby and let me look at it."

  "Ow! Seriously? I can't believe you do this for a living. You think you would be more careful."

  He smirks. "You really can be a pain in the ass, you know." I roll my eyes. "Where's the aspirin again? And your alcohol? We need to properly clean it."

  "Bathroom, in the linen closet." Nash walks across the room to the bathroom, which gives me time to realize how uncomfortable I’m starting to feel with him here.

  He walks back to me and holds out his hand. "Here, take these."

  My uneasiness drifts away and is replaced with a light-hearted feeling. I’ve been through a lot, but I’m thankful that unimaginable circumstances led me to Nash. He’s always so patient with me, and he’s the only one that I feel like myself around anymore. I’m no longer the person I used to be, and although I’m still not sure who I am, when I’m with him, I’m hopeful and confident that I can figure it out.

  "Thanks."

  He smiles back and sits down on the edge of the bed to grab the water. As he does, I notice him staring at a picture of Jeff and me at our engagement party. Julia and Travis stand next to Jeff while Olivia and her boyfriend at the time stand next to me. He continues to stare at it, so I say, "That’s at our engagement party." I lean over to pick it up so he can see it better. "That's Jeff's best friend Julia and her husband, Travis. She met Jeff in grade school and they were best friends for years. And then you recognize Olivia. That was her boyfriend at the time. I think his name was Tom." I look up at Nash, who has his eyes closed tight. Leaning over, I touch his arm. "Hey...you okay?"

  "Jensen...I need to tell you something." He takes the picture out of my hand and sits it down on the bed. He then stands and moves toward the end of the bed.

  "Okay." I pick up the frame and place it back on the nightstand. I then give Nash my attention as he paces at the foot of the bed. "Nash, what is it?"

  "
I, um…I need to tell you something, and you're not going to like it." I hold my breath as he continues.

  He continues to pace. I’ve never seen him so wound tight. "Just say it, Nash."

  He stops and comes back to my side of the bed and sits down next to me. He reaches over and grabs my hand. His hands are clammy, and it’s such a foreign feeling I want to rip them away. But before I can, he squeezes mine tight. "Jensen, I know Julia. I'm her brother."

  I continue to hold his hand, but the room tilts on its axis. Her brother? I knew that Julia had a brother. Jeff mentioned him early in our relationship. They never really got along. Her brother was overprotective of her, so they kept their distance from one another. He also told me Julia’s brother had a rough time in high school, had gone through something traumatic and wasn't ever the same. Julia brought him up once in passing conversation, but it was by accident and she quickly changed the subject. But I had met him, hadn't I? Nash isn't him. And his name is Jack.

  "Say something…please."

  My focus is on our hands, and my knuckles are white from holding onto Nash. I jerk my hands away. "What are you talking about? Julia’s brother is named Jack. And I’ve met him. At Julia and Travis’s wedding…I met him."

  “That was me. Don’t you remember? I missed the rehearsal dinner and showed up right before the ceremony. You and the other bridesmaids had already been drinking.”

  My pulse starts to race as my heartbeat becomes more prominent.

  "Jensen. You and I have met before. I’m Julia's brother, Nash. My family calls me Jack, but I haven’t gone by Jack since…since high school. I knew Jeff. We grew up together because he was friends with my sister.”

  I still feel as though the room is spinning. I don't understand. If he knew me, why did he pretend like he didn't at group? And why has he lied to me all this time? "Wait, did you just now figure out who I was after seeing your sister in that picture?"

  "No, I've known all along who you were."

  "Nash, I don't understand. When? When did you figure out who I was? And why didn't you say something?"

  "Jen, I went to that group because of you. After the intervention they had with you, Julia called me. She asked for my help. They were worried about you, so they wanted someone to check in on you and make sure you were getting help. Julia told me about the support group. When I went that night, I wasn’t supposed to be an active participant. I was just supposed to make sure you got out of the car and went. Your mom knew you weren’t going as much as you should. But that day, when I saw you…I saw how angry you were and I…I stepped in. I was afraid if I told you who I was, you wouldn’t give me a chance.”

  He pauses as if he’s waiting for me to say something. “Then the first night we went to get coffee and sat in silence, something changed in me. I enjoyed your company, even when we weren't talking to one another. Then we became friends and I saw you opening up to me. I knew you weren't doing that with anyone else, and before I knew it, I was in too deep. I didn't want to risk our relationship, so I didn't tell you. Jen, I meant what I said when I told you that you're my best friend. There are so many things I need to tell you, but what I need you to know right now is that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept this from you. But I got scared because I can't imagine you not being in my life. Something changed when I met you. You make me feel alive, like I deserve something better. It's been a long time since I've felt this way.” He exhales before continuing. “And while I’m coming clean, there’s something else I need to tell you.”

  “You lied to me.” It’s hardly a whisper. I can’t believe what he’s telling me. Not just that he’s a liar. But that my family and friends lied to me too. And they betrayed me. They’ve had someone watching me this whole time. That’s why everyone backed off.

  “Wait! Hear me out. After the intervention, your family…”

  “You knew about that…before I told you about it?”

  “Yes, Julia called me the night you stormed out of the intervention. She thought that with what I had gone through I might be able to help you. I saw what happened to you at Jeff’s funeral.”

  A bitter tang rushes into my mouth. “You were there?”

  He swallows before whispering, “We heard you screaming. Julia went running and Travis followed.” He pauses, tightening his fists, and takes a few deep breaths. “But it was the first time since I became a paramedic that I didn’t run toward someone who needed help.”

  I feel a tear fall past my eyes and I brush it away. “Why?”

  His body moves away from me as he leans his elbows on his knees. “Because I knew whatever was happening was breaking someone already broken. And I was too familiar with that feeling. I didn’t want any part of it.” He turns back to face me. “But I finally found my nerve and offered to help when Todd was carrying you out.”

  I think back to that day. That voice. His voice. “That was you?” The words rush out. Nash’s eyes respond. “You lied to me.” My voice is no longer a whisper.

  “And it ate me up every day. But I had a good reason, and then we got close and I knew I couldn’t bear to lose you. I had finally started living again, and after what had happened to me in high school…”

  "You lied to me!" I find my voice, and I’m pretty sure the whole neighborhood can hear me. “Get out! Now!”

  "Jen, please! I understand you being angry, and you have every right to be, but please just...”

  "I don't have anything to say to you. Get out." I cross my arms over my chest refusing to make eye contact. I wait, but he doesn’t move.

  Finally, I hear him exhale and the bed shifts underneath me. Making sure he’s leaving, I watch as he walks to the door with his head hung low. Stopping, he turns back, but I look away. I can’t face him. I won’t. I pick a spot on the wall to stare at until I hear the front door shut behind him. Then I pick up the picture again and throw it against the wall, and it breaks into a million pieces, just like my heart…all over again.

  Chapter 33

  I stay in bed for the next three days. On the third day, my stomach starts to hurt so I manage to slide down the stairs to protect my ankle. I eat some crackers, and then crawl back up the stairs and collapse on my bed. My chest hurts. My lungs hurt. My heart hurts. It’s all eerily familiar to how I felt after losing Jeff. And Nash was the only one that truly helped me out of that. He helped me to at least want to try. But the emptiness I had finally let go of has returned, and I dwell in the uncertainty of what I’m going to do.

  By the fourth day, the sadness has transformed into anger and motivation. I’m mad at myself for comparing the feelings of losing Nash to those I had when I lost my family. I haven’t even known Nash for a year. I’ve made too much progress to regress because someone that I thought was important turned out to be a liar.

  Climbing out of bed, I switch my phone on for the first time in four days. I have over two dozen voicemails and texts, but I delete them all. I can only imagine that Nash has come clean to everyone, and they are circling the wagons. Their little plan of sending in a spy to check up on me just blew up. I wonder how many of them were in on it. Olivia wasn’t. She would never go for that. But the rest of them—my parents, Jeff’s family, our friends. Well, they all can go to hell!

  I tried to put weight on my foot yesterday and it was still too painful. I slowly rotate it and try again. It’s not 100%, but it’s going to have to do. I’m no longer going to be the pathetic girl who just lets life happen to her. I wasn’t that girl before Jeff, and I’m not going to be her after Nash. Enough is enough. I shower, get dressed, do my hair, and even put on makeup. I then call a moving company and set up a time for them to come this weekend.

  Once I hang up with the moving company, I draft a text to my mom.

  “Can you and dad come over Friday morning?”

  “Sure. Everything ok?”

  I huff at the smiley face. Yeah, Nash told her what happened. “There’s something I would like to discuss with you.”

  “Ok, we�
��ll be there.”

  Chapter 34

  "Knock knock." My mother’s voice drifts in as the door squeaks open.

  “In the dining room…”

  My parents walk in and halt, taking in their surroundings.

  Everything is packed—every last dish, picture, memento. Some of it will go to the rental with me, and some of it will go to a storage facility until I find a more permanent place. Movers will physically move me, but I went through the painstaking process of packing up my family’s life all on my own. I was driven by pure anger and hatred, which is better than the grief that would have consumed me. Knowing that not only did my family and friends deceive me, but also the one person I had grown close to these past few months was all it took. I finally did it.

  My mom gawks around the room. “What’s going on? Why is the house destroyed?” She asks.

  “It’s not destroyed, mom. It’s called packing. I’m moving today.”

  “Is this why you called us over here?” my mom asks.

  “Yeah, why did you think I called you?”

  My parents exchange glances with one another as my mom says, “Because we heard from Julia. Nash called her and told her what happened. We thought you wanted to talk to us about it. And we know you’re upset, but honey we didn’t have a choice. You weren’t listening to any of us, and you refused to get any sort of help. We couldn’t continue to watch you waste away. We were desperate.”

  I’m glad I have my back to them as I stare out the window. Desperate? She doesn’t know the meaning of the word. I try to remain calm by taking a few cleansing breaths before turning to face them. "Let me tell you how this is going to go. I've hired a moving company to move everything for me, so the two of you don't need to do anything. They’ll be here in an hour."