by E. L. Todd
“No. He’s visiting his mother.” I wrapped up the cord then pushed the vacuum into the closet. “What’s up?” Axel wouldn’t drop by unless he needed to talk to me. And the only thing he liked to talk about was Marie.
He held a black journal in his hand. It looked old and crinkled, like it’d been opened and closed every day for several years. Even though Axel was holding it, I knew it didn’t belong to him. “Hawke wanted me to give this to you.” He held it out for me to take.
The mention of his name made me freeze. No one mentioned him in months, and I tried not to think about him as much as possible. Hearing his name felt like someone branded me with a hot iron. It was unexpected and painfully jolting.
Axel continued to hold it out.
“Why?”
“Just read it.”
I still didn’t take it.
“Francesca.” Axel’s voice came out gentle, something that hardly ever happened. “He wanted me to give this to you so please take it.”
I gave him my journal on our first Christmas and now he was giving me his. No good could come of this. But my body still wanted it. My heart did too. “What else did he say?”
“Nothing.”
“He just asked you to give this to me?”
He nodded.
I slowly grabbed the black journal and felt in my fingers. It was thick and the leather was warm. I could feel the grooves from where his massive fingers had gripped it so tightly. His scent was embedded into the leather, permanently.
Axel returned to the door. “Good night.” He shut the door behind him and his footsteps slowly faded away.
I held the journal without opening it. It was Pandora’s box. Terrible things would come out once it was opened and it could never be closed again. But my fingers felt hot touching it, containing entries of Hawke’s innermost thoughts and feelings. My fingers ached to open it. My heart wouldn’t stop slamming into my chest. I could hardly breathe.
***
I got into bed and turned on the bedside lamp. The journal sat in my lap, waiting to be opened. I grazed the spine with my fingers before I finally opened to the first page.
March 3rd
New York City is everything I pictured it to be. There’s congested traffic, hookers on the bad side of town, and Times Square is the biggest tourist trap in the world. It’s full of opportunities and possibilities.
But I’ve never felt so alone.
I only need one person in my life to feel complete, and she is back home waiting for me. Walking out of that door was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I’m not even sure how I did it.
But I did the right thing.
I hurt the woman I love. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe I thought she was someone else. But it didn’t change my actions. I was a monster. Something snapped inside me and I turned into a different person.
I turned into my father.
I’ll never be happy again, but I did the right thing by her. She’ll find someone better than me someday. She’ll get married and have kids. One day, she’ll stop thinking about me altogether.
And she’ll be happy.
The short entry was enough to make my eyes water. I was looking into the past, seeing Hawke’s thoughts when I wasn’t with him. I could hear his voice in my head.
He wrote an entry every single day. Some were short and others were long. The only things he mentioned were his loneliness, work, and me. Women were never mentioned in his thoughts, probably because he didn’t care enough about them to mention them.
Every entry was similar to the one before it. He made the right decision leaving me behind despite the pain it caused both of us. He did what was necessary to protect me from his uncontrollable anger.
And he never stopped thinking about me.
June 15th
There are nights like this when I want to get in my car and drive back to South Carolina. I know she’s graduating today, walking across the stage and getting the diploma that she worked so hard for. I should be there to tell her how proud I am.
But I can’t.
I worked late at the office tonight just so I had something to do. There was never a distraction strong enough to make me stop thinking about her. Sometimes I wonder if she’s moved on and started seeing someone, but every time I do, want to stab myself in the arm just so I won’t think about it. She isn’t mine anymore, but anytime I picture her with someone else, I want to kill myself.
Why do I have to be this way?
I have everything anyone could ever want. My business is a success, I have a nice apartment, and I have good friends.
But everything is meaningless without her.
I was just a shadow before she came into my life. My existence was just one long blur that blended into the darkness. I was miserable and empty. When she walked into my life, she carried the brightest torch I’ve ever seen. She lit up my life and brought warmth. My life was nothing but sunshine and rainbows. When she left, I thought it would return to the way it was before.
But it was much worse.
Without her love, I’m frozen. Without her smile, I’m dead. Without her touch, I’m numb.
I’m nothing.
Every entry was worse than the last. Hawke’s life was a constant of depression. Some days were better than others, but as the days passed, nothing changed. He was stuck in a constant state of sorrow.
September 9th
She’s here.
She moved to the city and leased the building where she will open her bakery.
I’m so proud of her.
I knew she would make it. There was never a doubt in my mind she would be successful. Her baking isn’t her only talent. Her smile and persona will also make big sales. People will walk in just to see her because she lights up their lives the way she lit up mine.
I want to see her. Now that she is close by, I’m losing my strength. My body yearns for hers. It doesn’t matter how many women I sleep with. All I can think about is her. Every touch is dull. There is no passion, no fire—nothing. I just go through the motions because I don’t know what else to do.
Will I always feel this way?
A year has come and gone, but it feels like we just broke up yesterday. I still remember exactly how her kiss felt against my mouth. I remember the way her body felt when she slept on my chest every night. I remember everything vividly and with so much detail that it haunts me.
She will always haunt me.
October 15th
Francesca cut the yellow ribbon to The Muffin Girl today.
I was there.
I sat in the coffee shop across the street and watched from a safe distance. I haven’t seen her in so long, and having the luxury of just looking at her was a gift. Her hair is longer than it used to be, reaching past her chest. When she pulled it back, the slender curves of her face were hypnotic. She is thinner than she was before, but I have a feeling she didn’t do it on purpose.
And she looks happy.
When Axel hugged her and whispered something in her ear, her face lit up. She stared at her bakery with pride written on her face. In that moment, I knew she was thinking about her parents and how happy they would be.
And I knew she was thinking about me.
I stayed in the coffee shop and watched her all day. When she was inside the bakery, I could see her dart back and forth, serving her customers and laughing with her coworkers. The place was packed with people on her very first day.
The Muffin Girl.
The next year had similar entries. Hawke spent most of his time alone, thinking about me and wondering what I was doing. Axel came up from time to time as did Marie, but my name was never mentioned at the same time.
He started to talk about his work more, growing his investment company and moving to a bigger office. He hired more employees and bought a new car. His life centered around work and nothing else. He seemed to be throwing himself into it, giving it everything he had.
I knew it was just a distraction.
>
I got to the next year and found the entry I was interested in reading.
September 8th
Axel asked me to be his best man, and of course I said yes. It is an honor. Axel has grown so much since he met Marie. Their relationship was rocky in the beginning but I’ve seen the progression of lust to love.
The fact he asked me told me Francesca doesn’t mind seeing me, since she is Marie’s maid of honor. I’m not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe she’s moved on and doesn’t think about me anymore. Maybe I was just a mistake that she’s pushed to the back of her mind.
Or maybe she is just as nervous as I am.
I should want to avoid her but I don’t. Actually, I want to see her. I want to look at her face and see her staring back at me. I’ve been watching her from a distance for the past year, but she never knew I was there.
Now she will.
September 16th
I saw Francesca tonight.
She wore a tight black dress and looked absolutely perfect. She cut her hair and curled it for the evening, looking like one of my dreams. When I spoke to her, she didn’t seem affected by my presence at all. It was like our break up never happened.
And she hates me.
It is clear she wants nothing to do with me. She didn’t even want to talk to me but humored me just to be polite. I could sense the hostility around her, heavy like a cloud. I broke her heart and she will never forget it.
I hated myself all over again.
October 10th
Francesca screamed at me and said she wanted nothing to do with me. Friendship is off the table and she doesn’t owe me a damn thing.
Which is completely true.
She is still angry over the way I left, and I can’t blame her.
No one could.
The worst part was her indifference. She isn’t in love with me anymore, not the way I am in love with her. I didn’t think it was possible for her feelings to ever disappear but they have.
Isn’t that a good thing? Isn’t this what I wanted?
No, it’s not what I want.
October 20th
Francesca has a boyfriend.
His name is Kyle.
And I hate him.
I don’t know him at all, but I know I don’t like him. I don’t like anyone that’s shared her bed. The raging jealousy is going to kill me and I can’t stop it. All I feel is heartbreak. It is like I walked out on her again, but this time, she is the one who left.
I have no one to blame but myself. I had her forever. She would have married me if I asked her. All I had to do was stay and control myself.
But I fucked it up.
Now she is with him.
And I am alone.
Hearing his point of view during our separation gave me a new perspective. When we were apart, I didn’t think about him. I locked him away and never opened that door. I moved on with my life and refused to let the past bring me down.
But he was thinking of me the entire time.
I read his entries during the wedding planning. Anytime he was near me, he wanted me. It was difficult to keep his hands to himself but he somehow managed. He talked about his sorrow from our conversation in Central Park, when he asked me to take him back but I refused.
That was one of the hardest entries to read.
Then I came to the time when we got back together. His entries were the shortest during this period.
July 5th
Francesca isn’t just a visitor in my bed. She is a resident. She hogs the blankets all the time and snores randomly throughout the night, but she is the perfect bedtime companion. Sometimes, I don’t sleep at all because I just watch her.
Right now. she’s tucked into my side, exhausted from making love all afternoon. Her hands are always on me in some way, and I love that feeling.
I never thought I could be happy again, but here I am.
Happy.
July 31st
Making love with her is completely different than all the sex I’ve had with random women. It is about our spirits more than our bodies. When I am with her, I always look her in the eye. We are connected in that way, reacting to each other in sensual ways. I give myself to her completely, enjoying her body and her soul at the same time.
I love the way she looks at me. Her eyes light up in desire, but she also stares at me like I am her entire world. The love she gives me is paramount, especially when we are in bed together. An asteroid could hit the earth but neither one of us would notice.
I could do that all day every day with her. Time stands still and it is just she and I. She heals my soul with every touch and every embrace. When her legs are wrapped around my waist, I fall deep into her, never wanting to come up for air.
I want to do this for the rest of my life—with her.
When I looked at the clock, I realized it was four in the morning. I’d spent all night reading his entries, getting absorbed in his past. I felt like I was reading his mind, seeing the thoughts I never had access to.
I had to work in an hour so I placed the journal in my nightstand and went to sleep, intent on finishing his journal at my next opportunity.
Passing Time
Hawke
A week had come and gone but I didn’t hear a word from Francesca.
Did she read it?
Or did she stuff it into her nightstand to be forgotten?
Or even worse, did she throw it away?
If she read it, I expected her to be done with it by now. My hope was disappearing with every passing day, fearing the inevitable defeat. I lost the final battle and lost the war.
I lost her.
***
“Has she spoken to you?” Axel sat across from me in the bar. As soon as he got there, he slid into the booth, not bothering to order a beer.
“No.”
“But it’s been a week.”
“I told you, Axel. She doesn’t care.”
“Maybe I should say something to her…”
“Don’t bother.” I didn’t touch my beer because I was already drunk. I’d been drunk a lot lately. “What happened when you gave it to her? Exactly?”
“I told her it was from you. She didn’t take it at first but she did eventually. I didn’t have to force it on her.”
“Did she say she would read it?”
“Actually, she didn’t say anything at all.”
My last try blew up in my face. “Then that’s that. She’ll marry him and live happily ever after. And I’ll die alone.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe she’s reading it. That sucker was thick. It’ll take her some time to get through it.”
“I don’t know…”
“Let’s not throw in the towel just yet. There’s still some hope.”
Not from where I could see.
Reading
Francesca
Kyle spent the night every day that week so I couldn’t look at Hawke’s journal. I felt like I was doing something wrong by reading it at all but I couldn’t stop myself. His recount of the past was too interesting for me to ignore. I felt like I was with him, even in a different time than the present one.
Kyle and I grew closer together in the past few months, and he was definitely happier now that Hawke had disappeared. He never asked about him or even mentioned his name. It was like he didn’t think about him at all.
I was getting used to a future with Kyle until this journal fell into my hands. Reading about his experience when we weren’t together was heartbreaking. Even though I was mad at him at the time, I still pitied him. His internal struggle with his own demons was constantly the focal point of his existence. He wanted me, but his need to protect me was stronger.
His recount of our time together was beautiful, and he saw the relationship in the same way I did. It wasn’t a typical relationship that every lover experienced. What we had was different—supernatural.
***
We woke up Saturday morning and made breakfast in the kit
chen.
Kyle ate everything on his plate, acting like he hadn’t eaten in years.
“What do you want to do today?” I sat beside him at the table and drank my coffee.
“Actually, I have plans today.” He said it in a dreadful way.
“What are you doing?”
“Axel and I are going to a Yankees game.”
It made me happy that he got along with my brother so well. I said Axel’s opinion didn’t matter, but it did. “Cool.”
“I like hanging out with him and everything, but I’d rather stay here with you—naked.”
“Well, I’ll be here when you get back.”
“Will you be naked?” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“There’s a good chance I will be.”
“Ooh…then I hope those innings go by quickly.” He cleaned his plate and set it on the sink. “I should get home so I can shower and get ready.”
“Okay.”
He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll see you later, baby.”
“Okay. Have fun.”
“I will.” He gave me a quick peck on the neck before he walked out.
The second the front door shut, my eyes moved to my bedroom. The door was open and I could see the foot of the bed. My nightstand was beside it, and the journal was in the top drawer.
I stared at it for a few seconds, unable to stow away my urge. My breakfast sat in front of me, untouched. I suddenly lost my appetite and didn’t need a steaming cup of coffee.
I needed to read that journal.
***
January 5th
When Francesca put on her locket, she never took it off. When we make love, I feel it rub against my chest, feeling the tiny engraving I placed in the metal. I love seeing her wear it, even if it is tucked underneath her shirt at work.
She is mine.
This Christmas was even better than the previous one. She made me a blanket from all my old t-shirts, things that she kept and took to New York. It was a token of her love. It survived the years we were apart.
