The Loss Between Us

by Brooke McBride

  “About what?”

  I take a deep breath and then release it. “I didn’t want to be a stay-at-home mom. We had been arguing about it for a few weeks, but I guess I wasn’t hearing him. I didn’t think much about it until I mentioned it to his colleagues that night. One of the partner’s wives asked how much time I was planning to take off. When I said six weeks, Jeff got upset. He was concerned I couldn’t handle both my career and our child.”

  “What did he do?”

  “Nothing while we were there. But as any spouse can tell, I knew he was upset with me. He waited until we got to the car, and then we argued about it on our way home. By the time we had walked through the door, I had enough, and I told him it wasn’t up for discussion. That I wouldn’t even consider it.” I pause thinking back to the words I used that night and the hurt on his face. “I didn’t even hear him out. I didn’t even respect his opinion. I didn’t look at it from the vantage that it was our child and we were a team. All I saw was that he wanted me to give up my career and I wasn’t going to do it. I had worked my butt off to get where I was. He wasn’t the only one trying to make partner. He assumed since I was the woman, that I should be the one to take a step back. End of story.

  “He blew up and decided to take a drive. I asked him not to, but he was mad, and he hated when he got mad in front of me. He was always the one who stayed calm in our marriage. It was a silent promise that he kept, never to raise his voice at me. But that night was different. This was a life decision we were making. The first as parents, and we weren’t handling it well. I look back on that night and I realize how hurt he must have been. I wouldn’t even consider it. I thought it was my decision and I had made it.” I shake my head, realizing how selfishly I acted. He deserved to be heard even if I didn’t agree with him.

  “So he left. He told me he needed some space and was going out for milk.”

  I don’t say anything for a few moments and neither does Nash. Not being able to stand the silence, I finish my story. “Nash, he’s dead because of me. Because I wouldn’t listen. Because I was too selfish to consider what he wanted for our family. Because I thought I was right, and he was wrong. He was trying to do what was right for our family, and instead I did the exact opposite, and now that family is gone.”

  I feel Nash’s hand slip from mine. My heart breaks that he sees me for what I truly am, for what I’ve been trying to hide all this time. I hear the chair scrape against the concrete, and I’m prepared for him to walk away when I feel his hands gently lift me and he pulls me into his chest. His head snuggles into my neck as he says, “I’m so sorry, Jen.”

  Wrapping my arms around him, I grab on, surprised he didn’t run away from me. The sobs rush through my body, and my legs start to give as I see Jeff walk away from me for the last time. Me calling out, telling him I love him and hearing silence in return. I never saw him again.

  Nash leans down and grabs me behind the legs and swings me into his arms. My hands clasp onto his neck as he slides open the door and uses his foot to slide it shut. My sobs continue as he moves down the hallway. Suddenly the bed is underneath me and he gently lays me down, placing his arms on both side of me. He takes my hair and moves it out from my face and leans down to kiss me on the forehead. It’s the first time another man has kissed me since I met Jeff. I sob harder, hating myself for comparing the two of them. They both deserve better. Jeff deserved a wife who would hear him out, and Nash deserves someone who can give him what he wants and needs, to be loved whole heartedly. But selfishly I pull Nash down to me and grab onto him. He pulls me up into his arms and holds me as I finally come to terms with my past and watch it drift away.

  Chapter 49

  He lets me cry. I don’t think I’m capable of stopping. But Nash remains quiet and holds me. He whispers that it’s going to be okay, that I’m okay.

  “Jeff loved you, Jensen. He forgives you.” After the words leave his mouth, I begin to shake. He pulls back and wipes tears from my face. His own tears fall and I mirror his motions, wiping them away for him before leaning back into his chest, where I take a deep breath and wrap my arms around him. I’m exhausted and my body starts to go limp. Nash must notice because he gently lays my head down on his pillow and brings the cover up to my chin. I breathe in his scent and relax.

  His fingers lace through mine. “Sleep, Jen. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I close my eyes and start to drift before feeling his lips lightly brush against my forehead.

  I roll over and look around the room. It’s dark out, and as I sit up, I listen for Nash. But I don’t hear anything. I walk into the bathroom and wash my face. I look like crap. My eyes are swollen and red. My hair is matted to my face from the dried tears. I stare at the person in front of me and as I do, I realize I finally know who I am. I’m staring at someone who is in love. For the second time in her life. I don’t know when or even how it happened, but I let go of Jeff and the life we shared and feel in love with Nash. I’m in love with him.

  I can’t help but to chuckle. How can I be in love with someone that I’ve never kissed, never been intimate with? But maybe that’s why this feels so strong. We don’t need those things to feel the connection we have to one another.

  I wait a few moments in the bathroom trying to figure out what I’m going to say to him when I see him. But it doesn’t matter. He was waiting on me. And there’s nothing left to wait for. I’m ready. I feel giddy and excited as a smile spreads across my face. I hear the garage door opening and I rush out to find him.

  He's coming into the kitchen as I’m walking down the hall. He looks at me and then away. “Did you get some sleep?” he says over his shoulder as he washes his hands.

  “Yeah. I just woke up. Where did you go?”

  “I went to your rental and got the front door hung, but not the back. I wanted to head home and check on you.” He turns to me as he dries his hand with a paper towel. “I can work on it tomorrow, but you’re going to need to sleep here one more night.” Sleeping here tonight quickly takes on a different meaning.

  I stroll toward him as my mouth moistens. I’m in love with this man. And I’m ready for him to know. His hands abruptly stop drying themselves when I approach him. “I want to tell you something.” I grab the paper towel out of his hand and throw it down on the counter as I lead him to the couch.

  He stumbles right before we reach it but rights himself as he sits down. I scoot closer to him and place my hand on his knee. “Thank you.”

  He narrows his eyes. “For what?”

  “For being there for me last night.”

  Relief floods his face as he says, “Oh, you’re welcome.”

  My hands tremble with excitement as I notice his are starting to fidget and are sweatier than normal. But I ignore it, focused on what I need to say. Now that I’ve admitted it to myself, I can’t contain it anymore and I want him to know. “And…I love you.”

  Those three words aren’t all the way out of my mouth before he squeezes his eyes shut. His hand squeezes mine as his head drops and his shoulders slouch. I pull my hand out from his. The air fills with tension and uncertainty, and I don’t understand what’s happening. He wanted this. He wanted me. Us. Why is he grimacing in pain?

  I lift my body from the couch and pace in front of the coffee table.

  He then looks up at me, and I almost feel as though someone has slapped me. His eyes don’t even have time to focus before he’s looking back at the floor. But as brief as it was, I saw it. And I’ve never seen him look at me like that until now. I’ve seen it from others, but not him. Pure pity.

  “I did a lot of thinking today while I was at your place.” He’s still not looking at me. “After you shared everything with me this morning, things started to make a little more sense.” Finally he looks up. “I get why you were so angry at everyone. This whole time you’ve been blaming yourself for their deaths. And that’s a lot to carry. I should know, better than anyone. We’ve been carrying around the same guil
t. But…mine is warranted, yours isn’t.”

  I go to interrupt him, but he stops me by putting up his hand. “Let me finish, okay?”

  I say, “Okay” and let him continue.

  He takes another deep breath. “Hearing you tell Olivia today that you had feelings for me…you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that.”

  He pauses as he studies me. “Do you remember when we went to dinner after the bike show and you told me how you and Jeff got together?” I swallow before nodding. “I knew he called you Lemondrop. I had heard Julia talk about that, but I never knew why. In that moment I was jealous. And then I realized there was no reason to be. I was there was because of Jeff. Because he was gone and Julia asked me to do something, which was to look out for you, to help you. Not fall in love with you. But I couldn’t help it. I had already started to feel something for you and I didn’t understand it at the time. We barely knew each other. But looking back on it, I know it’s because we had experienced something so similar. That’s when something changed in me. I started thinking about a future with you. A future that held hope and promise for a normal life.” He looks away again. “And I still had that hope…until today.”

  The last sentence comes out in a whisper, but I feel as though it was shouted in my face. No. No! He can’t do this to me, to us. I just let him in and he’s shutting me out.

  “Jen, look at me. Jensen!”

  I try to control my breathing. I try to understand what I’m feeling. Hurt doesn’t begin to explain what I feel inside. Rage is more like it. I take one more deep breath before I begin to say something.

  “Wait! Hear me out.” I begin to pace so I can keep my mouth shut until he’s done. “As I was at your place today, I was looking at all of your pictures on your mantel again, and I realized I’ve been selfish. I’m so thankful you’re in my life, but then I remembered why. You and I wouldn’t have met if Jeff hadn’t died. Or if Mark hadn’t died. And those facts are feelings that we need to process. We have to remember that this isn’t just about you and me. We’ve both been through something horrific, and I want to make sure we’re both in the right place before we move forward. I never got the help I needed, and I don’t want you to make the same mistake.”

  I abruptly stop and face him. “What are you saying, Nash?”

  He walks to me and grabs my hand. A part of me wants to shove him away but I don’t. I let him hold me. “I’m saying I screwed up. You were supposed to be getting help, going to group and working through your issues in therapy. And I distracted you with us because I’m selfish. Because I started feeling something for you before we ever spent a day together. And I’m sorry. But I’m smarter now. My eyes are open, and I know that you need to focus on you before you focus on us.”

  “Why are you bringing up therapy now? We’ve never, not once discussed therapy since that first night in the parking lot.”

  “I know.” He throws himself back down on the couch. “But I want to do right by you, and I know why you’ve acted the way you have. I think it’s what’s best.”

  My wall immediately goes up. I feel adrenaline rush through my body. I won’t be pitied by another person in my life. Being pitied by him will destroy me. And I’ve been destroyed too many times in my short life. He may see me as weak and broken and scared, but that’s not me, not the real me. There isn’t much I control in my life, but this I can control, and I won’t do it again. I won’t let him see me as some pathetic, broken person, because once someone you love sees you that way, there’s not much of a choice but to accept that as your fate or to walk away.

  “You’re right. I think that’s a good idea.” If there is one thing that God-awful rehabilitation place taught me, it’s how to give people what they want.

  His head jerks back in surprise, but then he releases a breath. “Good.” He moves toward me and gives me a quick hug before he pulls back, fading away.

  And the opportunity to be more fades with him.

  Chapter 50

  After that, I told him I was tired and was going to shower and then go to bed. He looked concerned as I walked down the hallway, but he let me go.

  The next morning Nash walks in, and I pretend that I just woke up. But I never fell asleep last night. He’s back on days, so he tells me he’ll pick me up after work. I don’t want to draw suspicion, so I tell him okay. He reminds me to use my new key for my front door. Then he asks, “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. Just ready for my own bed.”

  “Okay. I’ll get it done before the night’s over, promise. I’m going to take my bike, so I left the keys to the truck on the counter. See you later.”

  “Bye.”

  I wait until I hear the garage door open and close before leaping out of bed. I pack my stuff, and then get on my phone to find an Uber. Twenty minutes later, I’m walking up the path to my front door. I feel a pain in my chest as I see his handiwork, but I keep moving forward. I use the new key and drop my bag by the front door.

  I head back to the kitchen on a mission. I walk to the fridge and pull down a business card. I dial the number and wait until a woman answers, “Gene’s Home Improvement, how may I help you?”

  “Hi, my name is Jensen Landry and I used one of your contractors a few weeks ago to fix a stair. I need some work done today and wanted to know if anyone was available.”.”

  “Landry, you say?”

  “Yes.” I wait a few moments as I hear typing in the background.

  “Over on Market Street?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Looks like Tim helped you last time, but he’s busy today. What did you need done?”

  “I need an exterior door hung.”

  “Do you need parts?”

  “No, the new door is lying on the front porch.”

  “Shawn is available today at 11:00 a.m. if that works for you.”

  “That will work, thank you.”

  I hang up the phone and lean against the counter. Nash is going to be pissed, but I need some distance. And I don’t want to stay here without a new door. I might as well start to take care of things on my own.

  The little boy who lives next door, Sammy, is outside playing with Chief when I walk out the back door to clean off the patio so Shawn has room to work. Sammy is laughing as he holds a stick over his head while Chief walks around on his hind legs. Sammy then bends over at the waist laughing so hard that Chief jumps up and grabs the stick. I walk down a few steps and sit, leaning my arms against the stairs. Chief comes back and drops the stick at Sammy’s legs and does circles around him. Sammy says, “Okay boy,” and he picks up the stick again as Chief dances around trying to reach for it. I giggle, and Sammy looks up at me.

  “Oh, hi, Miss Jensen.”

  I get up and walk to the fence. “Hi Sammy. It looks like you guys are having fun.”

  “Yeah, we’ve been at this forever, and he’s still not tired. I think he could do this all day.” I laugh again as Chief falls over, desperately trying to grab the stick. “I sure wish I had a camera to take a picture of this. My mom would never believe what I taught him today.”

  I hate that Sammy spends so much time by himself. I’ve talked to his mom a few times and she’s asked me to keep an eye on him since she’s not home a lot. He’s 10, so it isn’t like he can’t take care of himself. But kids need attention. With his mom working two jobs, I know he’s not getting it.

  “I have a camera.” A nice camera, in fact. Only I haven’t taken any pictures in three years.

  “You do?” Sammy screams.

  “Yep. Be right back.” I head back inside and up the stairs. There’s one room in the house that still has stacked boxes in it. There are dishes and kitchen equipment that I don’t need every day but don’t want to part with, as well as my winter clothes. The camera is in here somewhere. I just don’t know where.

  After 10 minutes of digging, I finally find it and run back down the stairs. I look out the window and see Sammy and Chief still playing. I
pull out the camera and check the battery; dead. Great. I remember my spare in the bag and switch them out. The camera comes alive, and I rush out to Sammy.

  I place the strap over my head, flick a few buttons, and then take their picture. I look down, and it’s a great candid. Sammy didn’t even see me coming. I’m looking at the picture as he walks up to me. “Hey, did you take something?”

  “Yep, take a look.”

  “That’s great. Can I get a copy? I’ll pay you for it.”

  “Sure, but no need to pay me. Let me take a few more.”

  Sammy and I are laughing as Chief finally tires out and is slurping water everywhere.

  “Are you Jensen Landry?” I turn and see a man holding a toolbox.

  I run over to him and shake his hand. “Yes, you must be Shawn.”

  “Sure am. I almost left. I’ve been at the front door ringing the bell.”

  “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, I must have lost track of time.” I look down at my watch and see that I’ve been outside taking pictures for over two hours.

  “Well, I saw the door lying on the porch so I knew I was at the right place, but your front door looks brand new.”

  My throat grows tight thinking about how upset Nash will be when he finds out I called a handyman to install the door he bought for me. But this is what’s best for both of us, so I lead Shawn to the back door and show him what needs to be done.

  “Did the person who hung your front door do a bad job?”

  “Um, not exactly.” I look away as Shawn sits his toolbox down and starts to remove the tools he’ll need. “A friend hung it for me and doesn’t have time to do the other one.”

  “Okay.” He stands up and moves toward the door, inspecting the door jamb. “I can go ahead and get started then, if that’s okay with you.”