by J. Daniels
“You don’t know that.”
“I know she loves you, and this shit you’re doing is going to kill her.”
I hold my arms out by my sides, as if my hand is being forced and this choice isn’t even mine, because that’s how it feels.
“It’s done, man. I’m leaving,” I say. “Don’t make this harder for me. You know I don’t want to do this.”
His eyes pinch closed before he runs both hands down his face. When he looks back at me again, I see the defeat sag his shoulders. Heavy and unforgiving. “You fucking suck, asshole,” he says with a shake of his head as he steps closer to me. He holds his hand out, nodding harshly for me to take it, and I do, not expecting the hug he pulls me into.
“Jesus,” I say through a grunt, giving him a hug in return.
“Fuck you. I was banking on getting rid of Jacobs. Now I’ll be stuck with that dipshit, and a new fucking partner I don’t feel like getting used to.”
We release each other, a bit awkwardly, and I nod toward the house. “Tell Mia I said bye, all right? I didn’t want to upset her.”
“Yeah, thanks. I’ll tell her in the morning.”
“And don’t tell Tessa where I am. I don’t want her coming for me.”
He looks like he wants to say more, or possibly beat the shit out of me for making him feel like this, but he simply drops his head before turning toward the house. He gives me a final look over his shoulder when he reaches the door, and I think I see the understanding there, but the look is too fleeting to be certain.
One more stop before I can leave all this behind me.
***
“Sir, visiting hours ended at 8:00 p.m. You’ll have to come back tomorrow if you want to see him.”
I stare at my dad through the window of his hospital room. I’ve never been here this late before. It seems almost eerie how quiet the entire building is. Even the temperature seems colder. The chill of death, maybe, which is a morbid thought, but this is a hospital. People die. My mother would’ve died here if she hadn’t coded in the ambulance. This is where they were taking her.
“Sir?”
I turn my head, connecting with the older nurse standing next to me. She’s gripping a clipboard tightly, her pen tucked behind her ear.
I nod toward the window. “I won’t bother him. I just wanted to give him something really quick before I leave town.”
She purses her lips. “Sir, hospital rules. No visitors after 8:00 p.m.”
“Please,” I beg, sounding desperate. “I’m not going to see him again. He’s my dad; just let me say goodbye. I’ll be one minute.”
She looks conflicted, glancing around us before letting out a heavy breath. “One minute,” she echoes, and I know she isn’t playing. She’ll drag me out of this room as soon as those sixty seconds are up.
I won’t even need half that time.
I step into the room and move to the end of the bed. I take the bronze coin out of my pocket, the ten years sober AA chip I stole out of my father’s cigar box when I was fifteen, and look at the inscription on it one last time.
“To thine own self be true,” I read, turning the coin over in my hand. “What the fuck does that even mean? It should say something like you have a son who needs you, or don’t be a fucking coward and deal with your shit like a man.” I toss the coin onto the bed, watching it land on the white sheet. “I don’t know if you ever knew I took that. I think I always kept it ’cause I had hope I’d be giving it back to you at some bullshit ceremony, but I don’t have any hope for you anymore.”
The nurse enters the doorway, pointing at the clock on the wall and indicating with a finger that my time is nearly up.
I look back at my dad, watching his smooth breathing lift the white hospital blanket with the rise of his chest.
“I don’t just miss Mom. I miss a lot of shit. But I won’t stay here and watch you die. You made your choice, and I'm making mine.”
After my final words to him, I leave, brushing past the nurse who studies me with a curious frown.
The hospital seems even colder now. The dead silence surrounds me.
I wish I felt better about this. I wish this decision came with some sort of clarity, a sense of calm, or even reassurance that I’m doing the right thing.
But nothing comforts me as I leave Ruxton and everyone I’ve ever cared about.
I know I’m alone before I open my eyes, because I can’t feel Luke. My body would normally be touching some part of his, most likely all of it, or as much as I could wrap myself around if he’d stayed the night. So when I feel the cool satin of the pillow against my cheek instead of Luke’s warm body, I don’t even want to confirm what I know to be true.
He’s gone.
Because you pushed, Tessa. You always push him too far.
I cling to the pillow, burying my face in it to try and pick up some of his scent.
What I get isn’t enough. It’s never enough.
He gave me so much last night, more than he’s ever given me, and I still pried for that last piece of him. I should’ve held on and kept my mouth shut. Showed him how good it could be, having someone there for you when shit gets too heavy. A silent support. Then maybe he would’ve opened up more, or at least stayed.
The reason why I’m alone in this bed is my own damn fault. Not his.
Even though I know he isn’t here, I still walk through my apartment with that tiny shred of hope that he’s beaten me to the coffee maker. My naïve optimism fades the second I turn the Keurig on, and I stare at the dark liquid as it seeps into my mug, watching it mingle with the cream sitting at the bottom. I’m reminded of last night the second my hands wrap around the warm mug.
My tea.
I remember Luke leaving the bedroom to get it for me, but I don’t remember him coming back.
Did he come back? Or was that when he left?
I walk down the hallway, spotting my neglected tea on the nightstand by the bed. I carry the mug out into the kitchen and pour the contents down the drain, hating myself for missing that last second with him. I decide right then as the sink clears, his sweet gesture disappearing as if it didn’t happen, that I’m done pushing Luke for more. It’s moments like the one he gave me last night that matter; when we’re just together. Just us. Not the shit he’s trying to deal with on his own.
I love him. That’s enough. That will always be enough.
It’s daunting how easy that decision comes to me, like it’s been on reserve all this time. It feels right, and good. The way love should feel.
Everyone has something they’re afraid of. I never thought men like Luke, or my brother, men who risk their lives for others, who make it their job to protect people they don’t even know, would be afraid of anything. Luke said I made him feel things he never wanted to feel. Maybe that’s what he’s afraid of. If he lets himself love me, if he gives me every part of him, leaving himself vulnerable and I can’t take it, he could lose someone else.
Me.
I won’t let that happen. He’ll never be alone again.
I shower and get dressed as quickly as possible, not even bothering to put on any makeup. After downing my coffee, I grab my keys and purse off the table. My phone has half its battery life still, even though I didn’t charge it last night, and as I’m walking out the door, I notice the last call I received.
Mason.
After securing the fifth lock on the door, I stare down at the phone in my hand, thinking back to last night. I didn’t talk to Mason after he dropped me off. I may not remember Luke bringing me my tea, but I’d remember having a two-minute-and-forty-seven-second conversation on the phone.
Did Luke talk to him? Is that why he left? Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Does he think Mason and I are together?
Well, you did go on a fucking date with him, dumbass.
“Ugh!” I yell out, looking up at the sky as I press the heel of my hand against my forehead. I rush down the stairs to the ground floor, practically sprinting to my car. M
y thumb glides along the screen of my phone as my other hand inserts the keys into the ignition.
His voicemail picks up, and I decide against leaving a message. This should be said in person, and if he’s at the precinct, I’ll be able to tell him everything face to face. If he’s on patrol, I might be shit out of luck until tonight.
My phone rings in my hand as I inch out of my parking space, startling me. I slam my foot on the brake and watch Mia’s name flash across the screen.
“Hey,” I answer, easing on the gas and pulling out of the parking lot.
She sniffs into the phone. “Oh, God. Are you okay? You sound okay. Are you in shock right now? Do you need me to come over?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, switching to speaker-phone so I can concentrate on the road in front of me. “Are you in the middle of some pregnancy hormone overload or something?”
I hear commotion in the background, recognizing Nolan’s voice. “Nolan, not right now. In a minute, baby.” A door closes, followed by a few more sniffles from Mia. “God, sweetie, I can be over there in five minutes if you need me to. Your mom might be able to watch Nolan for me today and we can just hang out. I’m sure she won’t mind.”
I’m thoroughly confused, glancing down at the phone in my cup holder with what I’m certain is my most baffled expression. “You’ve lost me, Mia. Am I supposed to be upset about something?”
“How are you so strong right now? I’ve been crying all morning, just thinking about what this is probably doing to you. I know you love him, Tessa. Everybody does. Why are you okay with this?”
The strangest feeling washes over me, stealing my breath, and I wrap my hands around the wheel until my palms ache. “Mia?” I whisper, hearing the sheer terror coat my throat, thickening my voice until I’m practically choking on that single word.
“Oh, God,” she pleads, gasping through the phone. “You don’t know, do you?”
Several things happen at once as I concentrate on continuing to breathe. Mia’s voice becomes distant, unrecognizable, as I let the car come to a complete stop in the middle of the road. Drivers blare their horns as they speed by me, but I’m numb, too numb to care, or move, or do anything besides listen to my lungs struggle for air. A quick gasp, followed by another. Not enough air. Another breath in, deeper this time, but still not enough. White spots blur my vision, and the sweat beads up on my body, pooling between my breasts. Mia’s words circle over and over again, in my head.
He said he did it for you. He doesn’t want to hurt you anymore.
My nails claw at the material of my shirt, then up around my neck, gripping, digging into my skin. I gag on a breath and my stomach rolls, lurching me forward against the wheel. I barely get the door open before the bile rises in my throat, burning my esophagus like acid on concrete.
Vomit splatters on the asphalt as I hold onto the door, using all the strength I have left in me to keep myself in the car. My body shakes with another violent spasm, ejecting the contents of my stomach. I wipe the back of my hand along my mouth when I think it’s over, settling back into my seat and pulling the door closed.
The loss sinks in, settling deep inside my soul. Rooting itself there like a splinter.
Luke left me. He left. How could he…
No. I refuse to accept this. This isn’t how today was supposed to play out. This isn’t how my life is supposed to go. He’s mine, and I’m his, and it’s enough. What he can give me is enough. This shit isn’t over. It’ll never be over.
“Tessa? Tessa, are you there?”
I look down at the phone, hearing Mia’s voice as clear as if she were sitting right here next to me.
The driver behind me lays on his horn, his voice getting drowned out by the blaring noise. As soon as I hear him yell the word “bitch” in between two long beeps, I react.
I roll my window down, stick my head out, and glare back in his direction. “Hey, douchebag! Pull the dildo out of your ass, and go the fuck around me!”
“Move your car!”
“Suck my dick!”
“What is going on?” Mia asks through the phone I’ve neglected.
I flip the limp-dick off as he pulls around me, making sure everyone on this Goddamned street sees it, in case anyone else wants to ask me so politely to move before I’m ready.
“Tessa?”
“Nothing,” I choke out, a whimper catching in my throat. I grab a day-old water bottle off the floor behind the passenger seat and take a swig, spitting it out my window after washing my mouth.
“Do you need me to come get you? Or meet you somewhere?”
I step my foot onto the gas pedal and continue moving in the original direction I was headed. “No. Is Ben at the precinct? I need to find out where Luke is.”
“Yeah, last time I checked.”
“All right. I gotta go.”
“Tessa, wait,” Mia pleads, her voice wavering a bit. “I don’t think he wants you to find him.”
I grip the wheel harder, digging my teeth into my lip until I taste blood.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry.”
I disconnect the call before she can hear my sobs.
***
Speeding into the parking lot of the police precinct probably isn’t the best idea I’ve ever had, but right now, a ticket is the last thing on my mind.
I spot Ben immediately, standing at his patrol car near the far end of the lot.
“Where is he?” I ask, throwing the door open before the car comes to a complete stop. Ben looks up, turning his body toward me, and takes a few steps in my direction with wide eyes. I slam the door shut, blinking the tears out of my eyes before I move to get to my brother.
“Where. Is. He?” I repeat.
Ben shakes his head, looking at me with concern. There’s a deep crease in his forehead, and he has heavy, worry-filled eyes. “He’s gone, Tessa. He took another job.”
I jab a finger into the center of his chest. “I know that. What I’m asking you is where the fuck did he go?” Looking up into Ben’s eyes, I see the sadness there hidden behind his tough exterior, as he wraps his big hand around my wrist, holding me ever so gently.
He shakes his head, and his lips part slightly to speak, but he doesn’t give me any words.
“You’re going to tell me where he is, right now. Right fucking now, Ben!”
“No, I’m not.”
His defiance knocks the wind out of me.
He knows. He knows, and he isn’t going to tell me? How could he keep this from me?
I resort to begging. I’ll do anything at this point.
“Ben,” I faintly whisper, as my heart struggles to keep beating. “Please. Please just tell me where he is. I can’t… I love him. Please.” I cry harder, fisting his shirt. “Please.”
His eyes fall into a heavy blink, but the accustomed shake of his head comes again before the grayest eyes I’ve ever seen regard me. “He’s gone. I’m sorry, Tessa. I know this hurts, but he doesn’t want you to come after him.”
I no longer have any strength left in me to keep my head raised, so I drop it against his chest with a heavy thud. His arms wrap around me in an embrace, but I don’t feel the comfort he’s trying to give me.
I don’t feel anything.
The tears roll down my cheeks, wetting my neck, a continual stream of agony leaving my body.
“I’ll wait for him,” I say to myself, to Ben, to Luke, if there’s some chance he can hear me. I press the side of my face against Ben’s uniform. “You said you’d wait for Mia. You said you’d still be waiting. I can do that. I can wait. He’ll come back. He has to come back.”
Warm breath blows across the top of my head. “I will always wait for her, but I would’ve never left Mia. Never.” His hands hold my face as he guides my head up to look at him.
I don’t want to. I fight it, trying to keep my eyes clamped shut, to block out the words I know he’s about to say.
This is going to kill
me. I love him, and it’s going to kill me.
“Tessa.”
I shake my head against Ben’s hands, trying to break free, but the second I glance up at him, he takes the opportunity he’s given, and tells me what I’m dreading to hear.
“You need to let him go. Let him go.”
I cover my face with my hands as I silently reply.
I can’t.
***
There isn’t much resemblance. The sharp angle in his jaw, maybe, and his size. He’s definitely built like Luke, but he might have a bit more muscle, and he appears taller, even in the hospital bed.
His arms are covered in ink, but his tattoos aren’t as beautiful as the ones I’ve studied. The ones I can picture when I close my eyes.
“If you’re looking for Luke, he ain’t here, darlin’.”
My eyes flash open, connecting with the pair staring back at me, amber, almost golden in color.
Just like Luke’s.
I step closer to the foot of the bed, slightly embarrassed about being in here, gazing at a man I never met.
He leans his head back against the pillow, smiling. “He’s talked about you.”
I feel my eyes take up the majority of my face as I step closer, placing my hand on the footboard. “What?”
He lets out a slow breath before continuing. “I don’t think he knows I’m listening, but I hear… I hear a lot.”
“Not enough though,” I say, my anger consuming me. “I doubt Luke hid his pain from you, if you’re the reason behind it.”
He frowns. “No, he didn’t. But my pain was greater than his.”
“I don’t believe that,” I counter. He lifts his brows in response. “I’m sorry you lost your wife. I can’t imagine what that pain must feel like, but Luke was a kid when his mom died, and the only thing’s he’s told me is that he had to deal with it alone. I’d ask where the hell you were, but I think I know the answer to that.” I reach into my back pocket, pulling out the folded pamphlets I had slid into my nightstand last night. “Maybe I’m way off with this, but I overheard a few things the other day when I was here. There are programs available through this hospital for people like you. Free programs, with support.” His eyes follow the pamphlets as I toss them onto the bed. “Your pain will never be greater than his, because Luke lost everything that day. Not just his mom. He lost the only other person who could understand how he was feeling. I don't feel sorry for you. I don't feel sorry for a man who makes his son go through something like that alone. Be the father he needs and get your shit together."
