by Jewel E. Ann
“It hurts like a motherfucker to sit, or stand, or walk, or lie down.” He rested his elbows on the counter and pulled at his hair in frustration.
Silently waiting it out with him was all I could do. I got him a glass of water, his pain pills, and a slice of banana bread to eat with them. After I unloaded the dishwasher, I noticed his empty glass and plate, but the pills were still on the counter.
He was collapsed on the couch with one arm stretched out to the side and the other draped over his face.
“Mac and Evan are coming in Friday afternoon.”
He didn’t respond.
“I’m going to ask your mom if they could stay with her.”
“Why?” he responded.
“If you have a … difficult day I just don’t want—”
“You don’t want what? Me cursing up a storm in front of them? Me being such a fucking downer?”
Dealing with Quinn on those days became the ultimate mind game, but I usually held my own. I grabbed one of his finance magazines off the counter and sat in the chair next to him pretending to read it.
“Yeah, pretty much. Well, I mean, not so much the cursing, that would make Mac feel right at home, but the “fucking downer” part is the main reason. Would it kill you to try and be a little more hospitable? Every time someone comes over, all you do is sit on your ass and wait for me to answer the door, invite them in, and offer them a drink. You never want to play twister or join the conga line.”
Quinn lifted his arm just enough to peek over at me. I held back my smile.
“I’d hate you if I didn’t love you so damn much.” His voice was strained in pain.
“Back at ya, babe.” I grinned.
CHAPTER THREE
Quinn insisted I pick Mac and Evan up from the airport instead of sending a car for them. He was having a better day and claimed he could “wipe his own ass” for a few hours. The physical therapist, Patrick, was scheduled to be there shortly after I left. Some days he was more capable of dealing with Quinn’s “shit” than I was. I took Mac and Evan to Elena’s to drop off their bags before we went back to the condo. Elena was graciously willing to let them stay with her. She knew firsthand how uncomfortable it got when Quinn was having a bad day. I had chased after her more than once when Quinn’s pain induced, foul mouth sent her running to the door.
“Hey, babe, we’re here,” I called out as we walked in the door.
“In here,” he replied from his office.
“Make yourselves at home. I’m going to go check on him before I start dinner.”
“Will do,” Mac replied.
Quinn sat in his desk chair, looking out the window, with his back to the door.
“Shut the door.”
“Um … okay.” I complied. “How was therapy?” I walked up behind him and sat on the edge of his desk.
He spun around in his chair to face me.
“Good. Where’s Mac and Evan?”
His quick response to my question and curiosity to Mac and Evan’s whereabouts was odd.
“They’re in the great room. Why?”
“I think cutting back on my pain medication is finally paying off.” He flashed me a conspiratorial grin.
“I’m not following.”
He motioned with his index finger for me to come closer. I stood and leaned into him with my hands on the arms of his chair. He kissed me then I pulled back.
“Still not following.”
He kissed me again, but that time it was more intense. He grabbed my hand and placed it between his legs on his growing erection.
“Mmm,” I hummed into his mouth as I stroked him. “Welcome back.” I raised my eye brows. “Later we’ll have to see what we can do about this … situation that has recently come up.”
“Later? Are you kidding me? There might not be this situation later,” he pleaded.
“We have guests out in the other room. What do you want me to do?”
Quinn smiled then bit his lip as he looked down at his arousal straining against his pants.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to please him, because I did. I just had trouble blocking out the sound of Mac and Evan’s voices in the other room. Quinn apparently didn’t have the same issue.
“You’re a desperate, kinky bastard, but fine.” I dropped to my knees as he pushed down the front of his jogging pants.
“Keep talking like that. It only makes me harder.”
I wrapped my hand around him and stroked the bottom of his shaft while my mouth worked him from the top. He ran his fingers through my hair.
“God, yes, like that.”
His hips started to push up toward me and that’s when I heard him suck in a quick breath through his teeth. I looked up at his face which was twisted in pain, not pleasure. His erection faded away as quickly as it appeared.
He quickly pulled up his pants, as if he was embarrassed.
“Are you okay?”
His face was still pained and he wouldn’t look at me. “I’m fine just … go. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Quinn—”
“Just go, Addy!”
I hurried out hoping Mac and Evan hadn’t heard Quinn raise his voice with me.
*
“Quinn’s finishing up something then he’ll be out. I‘m going to start peeling potatoes,” I announced after leaving Quinn’s office.
“Want some help?” Mac asked.
“Sure.”
“What can I do?” Evan questioned.
“Stay out of the kitchen,” Mac deadpanned.
Evan frowned a pouty face as she blew him a kiss.
“So is Quinn feeling okay today?” Mac asked as she grabbed the knife and cutting board.
“Uh, yes, I think so, but things can change quickly,” I answered honestly.
I had no idea what personality we would see when Quinn came out of his office.
“Well, I’m guessing he’ll act fine around us no matter how he’s feeling, but you just give me a wink or something if you think it’s time for us to leave. There’s nothing worse than trying to act like you’re feeling fine when you’re really not.”
A few minutes later Quinn made his way out of his office.
“Hey, guys, nice to see you again,” he said, forcing a cheery tone.
“Quinn!” Evan jumped up and shook his hand while giving him a pat on the back. “Good to see you too. Can I help you?”
“No, I’m fine, just a little slow.”
Mac walked over to Quinn and gave him a gentle hug and kiss on the cheek before he lowered himself onto a dining room chair. “We were so worried about you. I’m glad to see you’re going to be fine.”
“Yeah, I’m getting there.” He used his smile to hide the grimace that was usually brought on by bending to sit down.
We ate dinner and kept the conversation centered on Mac and Evan. Quinn and I barely exchanged glances. We made tentative plans to go to Chicago to take The Sage out for the first time as soon as Quinn felt up to it. Quinn had suggested months ago that I bring her to New York, but her home wasn’t in Manhattan and neither was mine. I knew, or at least hoped, in the near future we would end up in Chicago.
After dinner we gathered in the great room. Mac and Evan finished the second bottle of wine, while Quinn sipped his usual glass of water and I had tea.
“I haven’t told my mom and dad about your engagement yet since they haven’t met Quinn. Maybe you two could share the news if you make it to Chicago next month,” Mac suggested.
I squinted my eyes and pursed my lips at her for steering the conversation in that direction. She flipped me an innocent smile, as if she was oblivious to my reaction.
“We’ll see. It’s going to depend on Quinn.” I’m sure he thought I was talking about his health, but I was more concerned about his reaction to what I had yet to tell him.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Quinn’s answer was short, and I could tell from his voice that he was tired and most likely in pain.
> I winked at Mac and it took her wine-relaxed brain a minute to process my signal, but eventually she did.
“Oh yes, well, Evan, we should take off. I don’t want to barge in on Elena too late.”
“I’ll drive you,” I said standing up.
“Don’t be silly. We’re quite capable of hailing a cab,” Mac insisted. “Maybe tomorrow Evan can come keep Quinn company and we can go check out some wedding dresses. I bet Elena would love that too.”
“We’ll see. I think finding the right dress sounds like a daunting task.” I rolled my eyes.
“That’s what you said the last time … uh, I mean—”
The room fell silent. My back was to Quinn, but I could see from the expressions on Mac and Evan’s faces that he was not happy. I closed my eyes and shook my head. Mac was flushed with awkward embarrassment. When I opened my eyes, I could see her grimaced face pleading with me for forgiveness, but I had none to offer at that moment. She looked at me the way I knew I would look at Quinn once I got up the nerve to turn around.
“Mac, let’s go.” Evan grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door.
There were no goodbyes or any further talk of the next day. Within in a few brief seconds they were out the door and I was stuck in my own silent Hell.
I turned around. “Quinn—”
“You used to climb, with him, before you were … married.”
I had read everything there was to read on dissociative amnesia, and the thing that had haunted me was the “trigger” that could bring it all back. It had been a race to see if I would get the nerve to tell Quinn before something else triggered his memory. I lost.
Quinn was looking at me, but it felt more like he was looking through me, past me, to our past. His voice was calm and monotone. “That’s what you said to me, when I was climbing. I remember.”
“Quinn, I wanted to—”
“No! Jesus, Addy! Don’t you dare try and tell me you wanted to tell me. That’s what you’re going to say, right? You wanted to tell me, but you couldn’t? There is nothing about your past that you have ever wanted to tell me. Everything I know about you has been dragged out of you, piece by agonizing piece.”
Tears flowed freely, rolling down my face. He was right, and I had nothing to say.
“That’s what you meant in the hospital … when you apologized. Isn’t it? I fell. You didn’t drop me. I fell when you told me that and you feel responsible. Don’t you?”
I sobbed and wiped my tears as I started to move toward him.
“Don’t.” He held his hand out to stop me. “Go to bed, Addy. I can’t talk to you about this anymore. I can’t even look at you right now.”
“But, Quinn—” I sobbed again.
“Go. To. Bed!” His voice was louder and strained.
I ran up the stairs and collapsed on our bed then cried myself to sleep—alone.
*
I’d lost track of how many times I’d awakened in that condo with red swollen eyes. I wondered if it was a sign. My pounding head declared war with my every move, but I made my way downstairs anyway. I expected to see Quinn asleep on the couch, but it was empty. Padding to his office, I found him leaning back in his chair. Then I was stopped cold in my tracks, but not from the dark menacing glare he was giving me; it was what I saw in his hand that shocked me.
“What’s in the glass?” I asked.
Quinn held it up and swirled it around before taking a drink. “Scotch.”
“You don’t drink.” My voice was even and calm.
“No, I didn’t drink, but I do now,” he said in a condescending voice. “Who knew it would numb my pain better than those other stupid pills? Guess I should have tried it to begin with.”
“Have you taken any pills today?” I was knowledgeable about the dangers of mixing alcohol with narcotics, but I wasn’t sure if Quinn was.
“Nope. Figured I’d save that concoction for your next big reveal.”
I wanted to take the glass from his hand and throw it through the window. I wanted to scream at him for being so stupid and weak to start down the same road his father had, but I couldn’t because my problems were bigger, and I was the reason his life was so miserable at the moment. Nothing good would come from getting upset with him, so I surrendered.
I walked over and sat down on the edge of his desk facing him. As I thought about my next words, I expected tears to sting my eyes, but they didn’t. I was all cried out, and I, too, felt numb, although not from alcohol like Quinn.
“His name was Malcolm. He was Mac’s brother. She introduced us my freshman year of college. I was a virgin and so was he. Six months later we had sex for the first time over Christmas break. We didn’t fuck, we made love. He loved me and I loved him. It was painful, awkward, and fast; but it was also special, heartfelt, and beautiful. Together our wealthy families put on the biggest most extravagant wedding Chicago had seen in years. Malcolm was older and graduated before me. He bought us a house and promised me the world––a fairytale. Fast forward a few years and the fairytale turned into a horror film. My parents died … correction, my parents were brutally murdered in what was believed to be a home invasion. I found them the next day, one … body part … at a time.”
“Addy—” Quinn set his drink down and started to lean toward me.
I held my hand out to stop him from moving any closer to me. “No, this is my story. My big reveal. Let me finish. Six months and thousands of dollars’ worth of therapy later, the nightmares started to disappear, but that’s when my story took another unexpected turn. It was around three o’clock in the morning when we awoke to the sound of our fire alarms going off.” I paused to think about my next words, but I couldn’t find all of them quite yet.
“I made it out, but Malcolm … did not. I didn’t speak for the next week, until after the funeral, when Mac found me at the airport purchasing a one-way ticket to nowhere in particular. She boarded the plane with me and we returned to Chicago a year later. When I left I wanted to die; when we arrived home the following year, I no longer wanted to die. I still didn’t care if I lived or not, I just no longer wanted to die.”
I reached down and grabbed Quinn’s glass of Scotch. His eyes followed my every move. Holding it up in the air, I said, “So here’s to your shitty life and mine.” I emptied the rest of it in my mouth, wincing as it burned all the way down my throat, then slammed the glass down on his desk before walking out.
*
Moments later I packed a bag and called Zach.
“Hey, Addy. How’s our pain-in-the-ass patient?”
“He’s drowning in self-pity and Scotch.”
“He’s drinking? Are you serious?” Zach asked skeptically.
“I’m serious. Listen, Zach, I need to leave for a few days. I’ve messed up and I need some time to straighten myself out before I can deal with Quinn. Can you help keep an eye on him? I’m going to let Elena know too, but Quinn on a bad day can break her down too easily so she may need some backup.”
“I’m sorry you’re having a rough time, but don’t worry about Quinn. I’ll look after him.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back here.”
“Addy?”
“Yes.”
“He loves you.”
I blinked back a few tears. “Bye, Zach.”
I contemplated writing a note to Quinn, but I decided to text him after I left. Just as I was opening the door to leave I heard his voice.
“Where are you going?”
Deep breath … I am peaceful, I am strong.
I couldn’t turn around and look at him. “I’m leaving for a few days.”
“You don’t have to leave.” His voice was soft and comforting, which made leaving that much harder.
I stared at my hand on the doorknob. “Yes, I do. I can’t ask you to forgive me until I can forgive myself.”
“Is there anything I can say to make you stay?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my he
ad. “Goodbye.”
I opened the door and a split second before it closed behind me, I heard the two words that always led me back to him.
“Never goodbye,” he called out.
CHAPTER FOUR
On the plane I composed two emails: one to Mac and the other to Elena.
Mac,
Take that amazing husband of yours and go home. Continue to fill your hearts with love and your home with beautiful babies and cherished memories. You’ve held my hand through the worst times of my life, but last night I realized you need to let go. I know you left feeling guilty, and I’m sorry I let you feel that way for a single moment. I should have told Quinn weeks ago. I’m leaving town for a few days to straighten myself out so I can hopefully have a chance at happiness with the man that I love. I’ll call you when I get back and we’ll set a date to go sailing and do things that normal friends should do. Have a safe flight home and give Evan my love.
Addy
Elena,
Thank you for so graciously welcoming Mac and Evan into your home. I’m leaving for a few days because I messed up horribly with Quinn. I awoke to find him in his office sipping a glass of Scotch this morning. Zach is going to help keep an eye on him while I’m gone. I love your son beyond words, and when I get back I’m going to do whatever it takes to make things right for him––for us.
Addy
As soon as the plane landed I sent the emails. After renting a car, I mindlessly drove to my destination and parked next to a large maple tree. Before I opened the door, my phone chimed. It was a text from Quinn.
Why do you run? Please come home.
Quinn had to wait, as I turned my phone off and tossed it on the seat before climbing out of the car. Closing my eyes, I stopped at the black iron gate. My ears filled with vibrating whispers from the leaves on the mature trees as the wind moved in rhythmic gusts. Birds chattered and I sensed the occasional rustled scurry of squirrels racing over the ground and up the broad tree trunks. I opened my eyes and proceeded through the gate, surrounded by green grass and rows of carved stone. It had been eight years, but I still remembered—three rows to the north and ten stones west on the south side. Lowering to my knees, I traced the engraved name on the first one and then moved to the next. My stolen life that wasn’t meant to be laid six feet under me. The setting sun bathed my left side in warmth as I closed my eyes and inhaled a slow breath.
