by Claire Adams
Quinn was standing in the middle of the floor, folding a giant stack of her clothes. She had pulled all the boxes out of the closet and reassembled them, filling them one at a time, stacking them next to the door. She glanced up at me and then back down at what she was doing, making sure that the last of her sweaters were packed snuggly inside the box. She had packed for six months, not knowing that it would take a lot less time than that. We still had a few more months left before the court date. But assuming the social worker wasn’t going to stop by anymore, she must have thought she was no longer needed. I could see the pain in her eyes from there, and it broke my heart.
Just watching her put her things away seemed strange, and I could feel a twinge in my stomach telling me that what was happening was wrong. I ignored that feeling, knowing it was that very thing that got me into this mess in the first place. It was that feeling that had coerced me into letting go and letting Quinn get close to me, inside my life, and into my heart. I didn’t like the way the room looked without her touches all over the place. The bookshelf was now mostly empty, and her dresser was bare, with the drawers pulled out. I needed to let it go and push the pain away. This was, after all, exactly what I had wanted from the beginning: someone who would make an excellent fake wife, but would leave when everything was settled, allowing me to go back to the life I had before. I had intended for me to get back my freedom all along, but for some reason, my freedom no longer felt like it was free. I felt terrible that I had hurt Quinn so badly, and I was reeling at the thought of her no longer being there with us, it all felt so wrong and out of touch.
I walked further into the room and looked around, not saying a word. She continued to fold her clothes, silently, her eyes fixed on the boxes in front of her. I took a deep breath and walked up beside her, sticking my hands in my pockets.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m almost done,” she said, quietly. “You can help me get all these boxes out to my car and packed up. This is everything I brought so there shouldn’t be any remnants once I’m gone.”
Her words made my heart hurt, but I turned and started to lift boxes, grabbing her keys from her and heading to the door. We walked quietly through the house as we moved her stuff, not wanting to wake Jake up. On the last haul to the car, I slid my box to the back and took hers, placing it in the last open slot. I dusted off my hands and shut the car door, looking up at her.
“I’m just going to check the kitchen one last time,” she said, letting me lead the way back into the house as if she had never called it home herself.
When we entered, I watched as Jake stumbled from his bedroom and into the bathroom, not noticing that we were standing there. Instantly I felt uneasy and looked for a way to prolong her time. I turned to her hurriedly, looking her in the eye.
“You can stay today, right?” I said. “You know, spend some quality time with Jake before you have to leave. You can leave after he goes to bed tonight so that he doesn’t notice.”
She forced a half smile and shook her head no, confirming that she needed to get out of there. She took in a deep breath, but I could see her eyes watering, and her nose go red. She was obviously holding back tears, and I wanted to reach out to her and hug her, but I couldn’t.
“You know,” she said, taking in a deep breath. “You are right. We don’t need to make this any harder on Jake. It’s better that I go now before the attachment is too intense.”
I nodded my head up and down, thinking about the nights that Quinn and I had spent together. It was the best I had felt in my entire life, but for some reason, I couldn’t shake that all-encompassing fear that weighed down on my chest. It was blinding and suffocating, so I pushed it to the side and stayed the course. Immediately after that, though, I realized when she talked about attachment, she meant between her and Jake, not between us. Or maybe she did mean between her and me, but I couldn’t ever be truly sure about it. Either way, I knew that I had to let her go. Before Jake could come back out, she turned to the door and stopped, looking back at me.
“Thank you for everything,” she said. “For every single special moment.”
I hung my head down, not even able to look her in the eye in the fear that I would beg her to stay. Even after the door had closed, I stood there staring at the ground, unable to move from that spot. The sound of Jake exiting the bathroom brought me to my senses, and I turned, forcing a big smile in Jake’s direction and heading into the kitchen to begin cooking breakfast.
I pulled out the pancake mix, the eggs, and the toast and stood there looking around the kitchen. I immediately realized that the only reason I knew where everything was located was because I’d helped Quinn put it away. I didn’t actually understand at all how to cook any of it. I took a deep breath and tried anyway, ending in complete failure with burnt pancakes, really dry eggs, and toast that just crumbled in my fingertips. Jake giggled behind me, and I smiled, turning to him.
“How about we go get breakfast at the diner down the street?”
“That is probably the safest idea,” Jake said, sarcastically.
“All right, smart butt, go in your room and we can get you dressed and ready,” I said, with a smirk.
When we got inside, I haphazardly went through his clothes trying to find something that matched. When I had succeeded, I figured the hardest part was over, but I was completely wrong. I couldn’t get him to stand still to save my life and kept having to order him back over in front of me every time I let him go. His attention was all over the place, and for a minute I thought I saw a bit of mischief in his eye. Who knew that six-year-olds were so damn squirmy? I seriously couldn’t remember a time where it took Quinn more than ten minutes to get Jake completely dressed, and get him to brush his teeth. She made everything in the house seem so damn effortless, which put me at a serious loss for words. I really never expected all of this to be so difficult, and I was starting to understand Sarah’s frazzled appearance every time I had seen her lately. Maybe after a while, I would get good at it like Quinn was, or maybe I would spend the next couple of years in a perpetual cycle of burnt toast and a half-dressed kid.
When I finally got the shirt pulled over Jake’s head and his Jake over his shoulders, I sat back on his bed, huffing and puffing. Visions of Quinn and her sweet smile and patience beyond compare blew through my mind and I realized something. I wasn’t upset that she wasn’t there to make breakfast or dress Jake; I was upset because I missed her like a sonofabitch and I was just now realizing it. I missed every single little thing about her, including her quirks and the way she scrunched her nose at me when I said something vulgar or rude in an attempt to be funny.
Immediately I started to second guess myself, my heart fluttering strongly in my chest. Maybe I had made a mistake. Maybe thinking that a relationship would tie me down and ruin my fun was way off base. I had let my fear of relationships due to the awful time I was having with Sarah completely cloud my judgment and make me push away the only woman who had ever made me fully like myself. I wasn’t kidding when I told myself that I had never felt that happy or that comfortable with someone before, but for some reason, I tossed the whole thing to the side like it didn’t matter. Commitment was what I was fearing, but in reality, it wasn’t scary at all when I looked at the idea of committing myself to a woman like Quinn. No, not a woman LIKE Quinn, but actually Quinn herself.
I got caught up in this terrible dating scene that was going on, thinking that if I just banged these women, moved on, and never got to know them that I would be safe from getting hurt or dealing with that kind of drama ever again. In reality, when I least expected it, Quinn had come along, and I had fallen for her before I even knew that I could. She had come into my life like a savior, and then I turned around and kicked her right back out when I thought I had everything that I wanted. Obviously, I was completely confused by what I wanted since I was able to watch the woman who meant the most to me walk right out the door. I mean, was dating a different woman every night, swe
aring off attachments, and sheltering myself from any kind of emotion what I really considered fun?
I leaned forward on the bed and pulled my hands over my face, immediately pelting myself with guilt. Oh God, I had treated Quinn with such disrespect and all while in the back of my mind I knew that I had fallen for her, that she was the woman who truly made me happy. I shook my head and groaned, feeling Jake sit down next to me on his bed.
“Are you okay, Daddy?”
“Yeah,” I said, sitting up and taking a deep breath. “Adults can be really dumb sometimes.”
“I know,” he said, happily. “You don’t have to tell me that.”
I laughed loudly, wishing that anything would take the feeling in the pit of my stomach away. Even my son’s amazing little laugh wasn’t making me feel any better at all. I felt like I had doomed myself, pushing away the woman who I truly felt was made for me. I was going to have to either do something about it or decide to move on, hoping that the pain would someday subside.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Quinn
When I got home, I quietly carried all of my boxes back in the house and stacked them in the hallway, not wanting to deal with unpacking. There was a dismal pain in my chest, and I knew that feeling all too well. If I didn’t head it off, it would eventually grow and grow until I could no longer control it, and I dipped back into a terrible depression. I took a deep breath and grabbed my gardening gloves from the table by the door. I headed outside and knelt down in front of the flower bed, beginning to pull weeds, and trying to drive away the nonstop thoughts of what I had lost. My garden looked terrible, weeds growing everywhere, anything that I planted to bloom in fall already dead and withered away, and the soil dry as a bone. I had allowed my garden to be destroyed when I just up and left to help Luke get Jake back. Part of me was upset by it, but the other part of me was glad I had something to tend to, the garden being a source of comfort and therapy for me through the years. I was needing the soothing sensation that my hobby provided so I took a deep breath and went to work, trying not to think about anything except the weeds in front of me.
I pulled and pushed, throwing remnants of my garden over my shoulder as I got the frustration in my heart out of my system. However, it didn’t seem to be working. No matter how many weeds I pulled, no matter how many plants I mended, my frustration grew higher and higher in my chest. I pulled myself back up onto my knees and wiped my face with the back of my arm, feeling the sweat I hadn’t even realized I had worked up. I looked around at what I had done, realizing that I had completely emptied my garden, not caring what I was pulling, just trying to force the anger out of my stomach.
I started to pull again, figuring I had destroyed this much, I might as well continue. All the while I was replaying every moment of my time with Luke and Jake through my mind. I thought about Luke’s gorgeous smile, his laugh, and the way his hands moved over my body late at night when we were all alone. I thought about Jake and how his eyes would light up every time that he saw me and how he would run across the room and jump straight into my arms. I thought about every meal, every laugh, and every amazing moment of my time at Luke’s house. It was miserable and heartbreaking, and all I could seem to do was to continue to torture myself over the family that I had for one shining second before it was all ripped away from me again.
I let go of the roots and sat there with my head down, facing the ground. Tears trickled down my cheeks, and I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I leaned back and lowered myself onto my ass, pulling my gloves off and pulling my knees to my chest. I reached up and wiped the warm tears from my cold cheeks and shook my head, realizing that no amount of gardening was going to fix what was happening inside of me, at least not that day. I felt broken, empty, and completely and utterly alone. It was miserable, and I knew that in the end, I had done it to myself. I had fallen in love with the idea of that family before I had even accepted Luke’s offer, and then I tried to kid myself to think differently. I felt like a complete fool.
“I see that you are back,” a familiar voice stated from behind me.
I took in a deep breath and rubbed the rest of my tears away before turning around with a forced smile to see Steve standing behind me. Slowly my smile faded, though, as I noticed that he wasn’t smiling back, but instead looked absolutely livid to see my face. I cleared my throat and pulled myself up on my knees, trying to get up to approach him, but he put his hand out, stopping me in my tracks. He shifted in his stance, his eyebrows pushed close together. He folded his arms across his chest and cleared his throat.
“Well, it looks like your engagement didn’t work out after all,” he said, angrily.
I sat there staring at him, not knowing what to do or what to say. I had completely forgotten about Steve, and everything that I had told him before I left. I didn’t think for a second that I would have to justify my lack of relationship to anyone, but then again, I hadn’t told anyone but Steve about where I was going.
“It doesn’t surprise me,” he continued, as he shook his head. “I don’t know how anyone could be engaged to you. You are nothing but a selfish, condescending bitch.”
I gasped and recoiled as if he had reached out and slapped me with his bare hand right across my face. Instead, he used his words, slapping me right in the pride and the heart, not understanding what I had just been through. He was angry because I had refused him, because he felt like he had been led on when none of that was ever my intention. I had intended on being nice to him, and one day explaining that we were better off as friends. I realized that maybe I shouldn’t have put that off as long as I had.
“It’s no big surprise,” he said, angrily. “I’m one of the nice guys, and the nice guys always finish last. I didn’t have a six-pack or huge biceps. I didn’t treat women like shit or try to use and abuse them, so obviously I wasn’t worth taking a second look at. You had a really good guy right here, just steps away, ever since Brian left you, but you looked right past me. I was there for you, Quinn, and all you did was toss me to the side like I didn’t mean anything to you. Now it’s all ruined, everything that could have been there between you and me is gone, and there is no getting it back. You are sitting here so worried about the fact that someone else broke your heart, but what you don’t realize is that you have been doing that to me this entire damn time. You are a hypocrite, and I wish that I had never been there for you in the first place; you don’t deserve it. You are now feeling the karma that you were owed for pushing me away and leading me on for all of these years. I hope it hurts, Quinn, I hope it hurts really badly. This time, though, please don’t come looking for my sympathy, because I don’t have any for you.”
I sat there completely stunned by Steve’s outburst, not knowing what to do or say. I didn’t realize that I had hurt him that badly, and suddenly it all made sense. I hurt him like Luke hurt me, the only difference being he didn’t live in my home and fall in love with a child. He was there day in and day out hoping for a sign, just like I had with Luke, and then I dumped on him, leaving him in the dust at the promise of something greener. I was such an asshole. He stomped off toward his house, pausing to push over a huge ceramic planter that plummeted hard and shattered across the ground.
I jumped in surprise and continued watching as Steve walked to his front door, entered, and slammed it behind him. The sound of the door slamming shut echoed through my chest and I looked around momentarily before bursting into tears, not knowing what to do or say in that situation. I was completely beside myself, and I was sobbing so hard that I felt like I couldn’t even breathe. I reached around me, trying to find something to help me stand up. I crawled over to the steps and grasped the railing, pulling myself to my feet and lowering my head down until my forehead pressed against the cold metal. I continued to sob uncontrollably before looking up and heading for my front door. I carefully pulled myself up the stairs and turned the door handle, pushing my way into my home and shutting the door behind me. I leaned my back agai
nst the wood and tipped my head backward, closing my eyes and feeling the tears stream down my face.
I stepped forward, grabbing onto the railing of the stairwell and pulled myself slowly up the stairs, stopping every few feet to try to catch my breath. When I reached the top of the stairs, I looked up at my bedroom in front of me, familiar and comforting. I ran into the room and threw myself onto the bed, my sobbing reaching a fevered pitch as my tears soaked the comforter beneath my face. There was no rhyme or reason to the sobbing that ensued, and my mind raced through everything that happened over the last six years.
Brian’s face flashed through my mind, and I cried for him, for the marriage that I was unable to hold on to, for the pain that he made me feel, for the insignificant person that I allowed him to turn me into. I cried for his change of heart, for the fact that it was so easy for him to move on and marry someone else. I cried for the jealousy I felt that he was able to have a family and be a loving father when he never cared for the child that we lost together. I cried for that entire time spent on a man who never truly loved me.
My tears continued as my mind moved to my baby, that sweet child whose lifeless body I held tightly in my arms for only a moment before they took him away. I cried for every memory I never got to make with him, and every regret I forced onto myself, not understanding what I had done to deserve the death of my child. The tears of mourning once again sprung from my eyes, and I clutched my chest, not knowing how I could continue to survive the pain that it felt to lose a child. I couldn’t move past it, no matter how hard I tried, and it never got easier. I could still see his beautiful little face like it had happened yesterday and I ached in wanting for that child.
As I thought about my child, Jake’s sweet face popped into my mind and I realized that there was a good chance I would never see that little boy again. He had started to heal a broken part of me that I never thought could be healed. He filled that bleak emptiness that was billowing from my chest. And his father, well, Luke had filled another place in my heart. I never thought I could actually fall in love again. He made me feel comforted, content, and happier than I ever had before. He made me believe that there were second chances, even for a woman as broken as I was.
