Forever Us

by C C Monroe

  “Um...” I look down at my hand in my lap, waiting for her to continue, hanging on each word. “I’m scared someone is going to hurt him or take him from me. Prince is my life. He is the only thing that keeps me alive anymore.”

  “Are you suicidal, Lana?”

  My eyes fly up and bulge when they meet Dr. Moore’s stoic expression still focused on Lana.

  “No, I don’t think of killing myself, but I do think of being killed. Everyday.”

  I turn and look at Lana, her tears now falling, her goose bumps eating her skin, and her shoulders are beginning to shake.

  “By who, Lana?” Dr. Moore implores.

  “Joel.” His name sounds like acid burning in her mouth. My ears bleed at the mention of him.

  “Your abusive ex-partner?”

  I stare holes into the side of Lana’s face, my hands shaking. The mention of her fearing death is a whole other issue. She fears death? It’s that bad?

  “Yes. He’s out there, and I think he’s just waiting for me...awaiting for me to be unguarded. What if he is and I’m with my son and he hurts him? What if he hurts my son?” She drops her head and cries, the sobs loud in the room. Dr. Moore reaches for the box of tissues as I close the gap between us, pulling her in close to my side. Lana’s freezing, her arms like ice even though the room is a comfortable temperature.

  “Baby,” she whispers, crying against my ear. “Please don’t make me talk about him, please,” She begs, and my jaw tightens, torn between my wants and hers. Dr. Moore stays silent, not interrupting us.

  “Lana, you have to talk about it. You can’t get better if you don’t talk about it.” I tilt my head and kiss her forehead then the tip of her nose.

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. I’m right here, Lana. I have you,” I reassure her, the button of her nose between my lips as I kiss it over and over again.

  Her fist grips my black tee. My little angel is scared, and it makes me realize what a fucking dick I’ve been today.

  “Lana, is Joel in contact with you?” Dr. Moore finally takes back the conversation, and Lana’s brown eyes beg mine, looking like a lost child. I nod, squeezing her, keeping her tucked into my side. She nods back and refocuses on the therapist.

  “No, he stopped contacting me a few weeks before our son was born.”

  “So why are you afraid of him all of a sudden?”

  Lana shakes her head. “I never stopped. I just had bars to keep me safe before. Now I don’t.”

  “Do you feel, since you’ve had a son, that fear is amplified?”

  “Yes, my son is everything to me. He is the only one who loves me. He is the only thing that gives me purpose.”

  She hurts me with those words. I try and stay calm, not wanting to react when she is this vulnerable yet forthcoming.

  “What about Kingston?”

  Lana shakes her head. “Kingston is a great man and has provided for our son and stepped up as a father when he didn’t have to. But, I don’t blame him for wanting out...for falling out of love with me.”

  I go to open my mouth to fight her, but then something happens. For the first time in my life, I don’t know what I feel anymore. Holy fucking shit. Do I still love her?

  “Kingston, do you love Lana still?”

  “I love her, yes, but I don’t know how to stay in love if this is what our life is going to be like. I don’t see how I can.” I feel her chest cave as she cries, my words crushing her. If only she knew what they did to me when I said them.

  Dr. Moore attempts to ask Lana how she feels about that, but she doesn’t answer, only continuing to cry.

  We all stay quiet for a long while; the only sound is Lana’s cries and both our hearts breaking. The clock announces the end of our thirty-minute session, the buzz making us both jolt. That went by faster than I was anticipating.

  “That is all the time we have, but we will meet back up next week.”

  I nod and untangle from Lana, needing the space to collect myself after what I just said. I admitted I’m falling out of love with Lana. I can’t believe we’re here, that I’m capable of feeling this way.

  Grabbing my coat, I watch a damaged Lana put on her jacket, her sunken eyes turning black with exhaustion rings. The darkness that has consumed our lives has affected us more than emotionally. We physically wear our pain, and it feels as though we will never be free from it, that our destiny is a paved road of never-ending let downs and misery.

  I watch the passing trees being doused in water from the heavy downpour hitting Seattle on this gloomy day. The dark clouds stand out to me more than the green of the trees, because I feel lifeless. Therapy was harder than what I expected. I faced barely any of my past, but it felt like a riptide dragged me under, and we haven’t even touched the surface on all the fucked up shit inside me.

  Worst part of it all, though, was Kingston admitting to falling out of love with me. I’ve lost my biggest battle yet. I succumbed to my demons and lost my best friend. Is this what it feels like to be unloved? My heart weighs heavy in my con-caved chest, my head burning, my spine weak, and my soul demolished.

  We haven’t said a word to each other since we left, and it’s been the most deafening ride yet. My phone vibrates in the cup holder, and I drag my eyes from the scenery outside my window and look at Kingston before I grab the cell. He’s focused on driving, coming to a slow stop as we hit traffic on the outskirts of the city on our way back to the suburbs.

  Sdog: Look at me and Monkey! We miss you!

  I load the picture, and when it pops up, I smile for the first time today. Shayla is lying on the floor, and Prince is atop her belly, his green eyes wide. He looks fascinated, most likely by his face on the screen. Shayla has a huge smile on her flawless face, making my insides turn to jealous mush. I haven’t attempted to look anything other than a busted mess on a Monday morning in ages, and the image in the mirror this morning even had me shuddering.

  Me: You guys look like you’re having fun. Me and Kings are on our way there. We’re stuck in traffic. :(

  Sdog: Yay! Hey, what do you say you and I go to dinner tonight? I miss you, Lana.

  I have neglected Shayla, our boutique, my relationship with Kingston, all of it the past few months. The only person I have taken time to spoil is our son.

  Me: I don’t know. Today was a rough one, and I want to spend some time with Monkey tonight. Rain check?

  I feel guilty, but the guilt doesn’t outweigh the relief I feel when I think of spending the night with my son.

  Sdog: Yeah, sure, rain check :D

  I know she’s biting her tongue. No text can hide that, but she lets me off the hook this time.

  “I’m gonna have some drinks with Trey tonight. What are you and Bubba gonna do?” Kingston distracts me. It’s awkward; we don’t know what we are, if we’re staying together, if we’re broken up, if I need to go left and him right. It’s all dangling in the air.

  “I think we’re just gonna chill at home. I have to do some things for our online store, so just Mommy and Monkey time.” I feel the familiar feeling of jealousy creep in at the mention of him going out tonight without me. Except this time it’s far more potent, given he just dropped a bombshell on me.

  “Sounds like fun. I shouldn’t be out too late. We’re celebrating a new client we took on.”

  I nod. “Yeah, that’s good. You guys seem busy.” I don’t know what to say, and it’s as if I’m the random girl in the back seat of a taxi.

  I itch to voice my insecurities about tonight, but that itch stays unscratched. I have no rights to Kingston anymore. I broke him, broke our bond.

  “Yeah, we are.”

  We fall silent again, and I occupy the rest of my time in the car with him by staring at the scenery. I just want to go home and go to sleep.

  “Bye-bye, Bubba. Daddy will be home later, and then tomorrow we will spend all day together.” Kingston is on all fours, hovering over Prince as he lies on the plush rug of our living room o
n his favorite elephant blanket. When his little feet get to moving all excitedly, we both can’t help but look at each other and smile. We have the cutest son in the world.

  “All right, be good to Mama and eat some good Mommy milk tonight. Got it, bud?” He curls Prince’s hand into a fist then brings his down gently and they connect. After a few more seconds of bonding, he stands, looking toe curling handsome without his usual cap on. His hair is styled and slicked back in a crew cut, his leather jacket and worn-out blue jeans matching well with his black boots. He looks delicious, handsome, every bit of what was once mine.

  I still have my makeup on and my hair down in wavy curls, my tank top and oversized sweater drowning my body. I have on thigh-high socks to keep me warm on this rainy night.

  “I’ll be home in a couple hours. Call me if you need anything. Lock up the house,” He says over his shoulder, his retreating form heading out the kitchen door leading to the garage.

  “Be safe.”

  “Yeah.”

  Just like that, he’s gone. The room feels large and empty without his presence. I wait till the sound of his truck leaves. I desperately want to call him back and beg him to talk to me, to settle my racing heart and nervous stomach. I really have no idea who the hell we are anymore, better yet, what we are.

  “Goober, come here!” I distract myself and slide off the couch, crawling over to Prince. Grabbing his Safari-themed activity dome, I place it over him and watch him fawn over the giraffes and monkeys, his little arms reaching up to touch the toys. His feet get to moving, and I admire how strong and healthy he is. He has chubby legs with skin folding over his knees; he’s so chunky. His cheeks are round, and I lean in to give them raspberry kisses.

  My presence is non-existent to him. He’s too transfixed on the shapes and colors hovering over him, giving me the perfect opportunity to lose myself in appreciating him. Today, I talked about Joel—not a lot, but enough to open up old wounds. I didn’t want to talk about him, and I don’t want to admit I have read the release letter over and over again. Not only do I read the letter repeatedly, but I also check his Facebook to see if he says anything, if he post pictures of wherever he is, just so I can reassure myself that he is still in Utah and far away from me. But, his Facebook is blank—no updated information, no recent posts, just blank.

  I debated admitting this to Kings countless times, but I never do. Too convinced I will buy myself a one-way ticket to the crazy bin, and if I know Kingston, it will send him into a fit of jealousy.

  “I wonder what your first word will be. I think it should be Dada. He loves you so much, little man. He puts up with my crap so he can spend every day with you. Pretty special man, huh?”

  The music on the mobile starts playing, and he smirks with his gums on full display.

  “You are my best accomplishment. You give me purpose,” I say out loud, watching him play until it’s time for his milk.

  Feeding him his dinner, I head upstairs and get him ready for bed, and then put him in his bassinet in our room. Deciding it’s time for a bubble bath, I wait till he’s asleep then grab the baby monitor so I can hear him over the running water. Throwing in some lavender-scented bath bombs, I undress then step into the warm, inviting water.

  When the water fills to the brim, I use my foot to turn it off and sit back, cozying into place and shutting my heavy, burning eyelids. Today took a lot out of me. I feel alone and unsure of my surroundings, like I’m standing on unsteady feet while the ground under me rumbles wildly.

  I miss Kings. I want to talk to him, for him to make sense of all this, but I can’t do anything because the space is needed for us both. I run my hands over my body with the loofa, lathering it in more lavender scent, exfoliating my skin to kill time.

  It’s a Friday night. I’m all alone and bored. It feels like I’ve been alone for months now. I can’t remember the last time Kingston and I went on a date, made love, or even lounged around the house together. I’m starting to rethink the whole going out with Shayla thing. Too bad it’s too late for the rain check.

  My phone vibrates next to me where it sits on the lid of the toilet. Sitting up, I use the dry washcloth next to me to dry my hands before grabbing the cell.

  Sdog: When the boys are out, and I’ve spent the last hour in the bath since the twins fell asleep.

  #Bathproblems

  I chuckle and open my camera. Snapping a picture of me in the bath with my tongue out, I send it to her.

  Me: Same. We are pathetic, but hey, at least we’re clean. Lol!

  Sdog: Nice nipple shot. What do I owe you in return?

  I open the picture and zoom in. Sure enough, my nipple is sticking out of the sudsy water. I shake my head and chuckle.

  Me: Shit, you got the special treatment. I will take a vag pic for $200 please. LOL! JK!

  I wait for her response, opening my music app and playing Kane Brown’s “There Goes My Everything.” My head begins to move along with the rhythm, the words reminding me of the one man who will always have my heart. My phone vibrates, and it saves me from a live reel replay of the past four months.

  Sdog: Sorry, those are reserved for my husband, and I have met my nightly quota. I already sent him two! ;p Lol!

  Me: Lucky bitch, I haven’t even seen Kingston naked in months. I got a glimpse the other day, and that was about it.

  I see the dots dancing, and then the song on my phone stops as Shayla’s name displays on my screen. I huff. I should know better than to even give her an inkling that we aren’t okay.

  Bringing the phone to my ear, I take a deep breath. “Shay, I’m—”

  “Sissy, please talk to me. Don’t shut me out.” Her tormented voice echoes like a shotgun through the receiver. I blink a couple times and drop my chin slowly. Shayla and I have pretty much become strangers too, like everyone in my life, and I really miss her. I miss her always being there to listen to me and pick me up when I’m falling to the rubble I have created all on my own.

  “Shay, it’s not good.”

  “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be there.”

  I hear the sloshing of water, and before she can hang up, I protest. “No, don’t wake the babies up just to come see me.”

  “I don’t have to. Kathy is here. She’s in town from Portland house hunting. I’m on my way!” With that, she hangs up abruptly to keep me from objecting. I surprisingly feel flooded with relief. I miss her. I miss anyone from the life that once was beautiful for me—before Joel, before the abuse, before all the things that happened that made me the mess I am today.

  I climb out and towel myself off as fast as I can, grabbing one of Kingston’s big tees and his briefs. I slide them on and shield my body in his clothes, pretending they are his arms around me, the smell of him lingering on them, filling each intake of breath.

  Kingston is dominant; his presence affects any room he walks into. He owns it, charms the pants off of it, and there is something about that knowledge that turns me on more than anything. God, I miss his touch.

  Shayla knocks and I move, rushing out of the room. I shut the door as quietly as I can, making sure I don’t disturb my little man, and then hurry down the stairs before she starts ringing bells.

  Opening the front door, she is dressed just like me, in Trey’s tee with his briefs on and flip-flops. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy topknot, and her little legs and arms are covered in goose bumps.

  “Shay, it’s like forty degrees out there. Get inside, crazy.” I tug her arm and pull her in.

  “I know. I realize that now, but I was in a hurry. I wanted to be with you tonight.” She shivers as we move to the sitting room just to the left of the entryway. Plopping down on the couch, she reaches for all of my throw blankets and covers herself in them.

  “Does Trey know you’ve had a lapse of judgment?”

  “Yes, I called him and told him that I will be here with you tonight. So start talking, lady. We have all night.” She winks then shivers, causing me to chuc
kle. God, I love her.

  I tell her, for hours, how Kingston and I have come to a burning bridge. I admit to her how therapy went and how it made me both frightened but relieved. Once my blabbering stops and we have both cried, she finally gets a word in.

  “So are you guys a couple? Did you call it off? Did he say anything after therapy?”

  I shake my head, my hands fiddling with the white fluffy throw blanket. “No, he didn’t. And as far as the couple thing goes, I’m sure we’re over. Even though he said therapy would make him stay, I don’t think it helped. He is only staying for Prince for the time being.”

  “Do you think he is waiting for you to get better before you get into the relationship again? I mean, stay hopeful, because maybe this is just a break until he’s sure.” She reaches for my busy hands and stops them, covering them with hers. “You’re Lana and Kingston. You can’t be over.”

  That’s a mouthful, a naïve dream I once idolized as a sure thing. But I abused that dream, sucked it dry of its power.

  “That’s what I used to think, but I messed up. Hell, I bet he’s out looking for something to forget me.”

  “My brother would never do that to you. You’re his lobster.” She smiles and I shake my head.

  “Okay, Phoebe Buffay.” I laugh alongside her. When it dies down, I slowly look back up at her.

  “I want him to forgive me and know that I’ll do whatever I can to get better. What do I do, Shayla?”

  “You need to make this right. You—”

  “I can’t. He’ll think they’re empty promises,” I cut her off.

  “I wasn’t gonna say that. You need to show him in your actions. Go to therapy. Communicate what fears you have—the abuse, the depression, all of it. I know you want to do this, Lana. I see it. But, you have to be committed this time, not just for him, not just for Prince, but for you too. This is your life and your happiness as well, so remember that.”

  I know I don’t only risk the happiness of the ones I love, but my salvation is at risk here too. I need to get better. I don’t like living in this eternal darkness as much as the next person, but I didn’t know how to get out of it. But still, I’m ready to not only save my greatest love and family, but I’m ready to save myself, from myself.