by Jewel E. Ann
“Hi, Mom. I miss you and I think about you every day. I wonder where you are. I wonder if you found your pearly gates or if your beautiful soul has graced a new body. I think about Daddy too, especially lately. I remember how much he loved and adored you. I remember thinking no two people could ever love each other as much as you and Daddy did. I didn’t have the same love with Malcolm, and I knew it the day I agreed to marry him. It was the right choice at the time. I took your advice and bloomed where I was planted. My proverbial garden was growing all around me in spite of losing the two people who loved me most in this world. But then…” I wiped my tears “…but then that life was taken from me too. Did you know that? Did you and Daddy know about the fire? I lost every––everything, Mom. I hated God. It felt like He reached down and ripped my heart out of my chest and tore it into a million pieces … but it was still … beating. I prayed to Him, I prayed to you, I prayed to Daddy; I prayed to anyone who I thought could help me. I just wanted to be taken too. I couldn’t stand the sound of my heart beating … alone.”
Wiping my tears, I closed my eyes until my sobs subsided. “Now I’ve met someone and he’s … everything. We have the love you both had. It’s beautiful, passionate, all consuming … epic. But I’ve hurt him so bad and I don’t know how to make it right. I don’t know if he’ll ever know he’s the reason my heart is still beating.”
I lay on the ground and watered the earth with my tears, imagining my mom’s arms wrapped around me, holding and comforting me. Eventually, darkness descended upon me, and the cooler breeze chilled my skin. I took one last look at my past carved in stone before me then slowly made my way back to the car.
The next morning I checked out of the hotel and drove to a large lakefront estate. It looked beautiful—just like I remembered—massive shade trees and bordering perennial gardens. I wondered if the same family lived there. I sold it to a surgeon and his wife, who were expecting twins at the time. After finding the remains of my parents’ severed bodies, I wanted the whole place leveled. I thought destroying it would erase the terrible memories from my mind. My therapist talked me out of sending a wrecking ball though the front door of the restored 1870s nine million dollar mansion and instead finding a buyer that symbolized a new beginning, one that symbolized life. Imagining eight–year-old twins running around the perfectly manicured yard or swinging from the oak tree in the back reminded me that life goes on, even in the event of the most unimaginable tragedies. The living still go on living.
*
I spent the following three days visiting every place that held a significant memory in my heart. Buildings had been painted, old trees died and newer ones had matured. Even some things that hadn’t changed looked different to me because I looked at them differently. It was a poignant reminder that my life was different and I needed to start looking at it that way.
After packing my bag, I got an early flight back to New York. I thought if Quinn could love me and forgive me my past, then so could I. Before boarding the plane, I called Zach. He gave me the heads-up that Quinn wasn’t doing so well, but he didn’t elaborate.
Before I opened the door, I reminded myself that no matter what I saw on the other side, the man I fell in love with was in there … even if it took me a while to find him.
“Hello?” I called out.
“Oh, hi, Addy. I’m so glad you’re back,” Elena answered.
She was washing dishes in the kitchen, but she had a tense face with a forced smile.
“What’s wrong? Where’s Quinn?” I dropped my bags and walked toward her.
“He’s upstairs. He hasn’t come down since you left.”
I nodded. “I’ll go check on him.”
“Addy, wait.”
I turned.
She grabbed her purse and embraced me in a big hug as she whispered in my ear. “I love you like a daughter and I want nothing more than to see you and my son together but––”
I squinted my eyes and cocked my head to the side. “But?”
She released a concerned sigh. “But I should not have stayed, and if it gets worse, neither should you.”
I was still confused when she left, wondering what she meant when said she shouldn’t have stayed. I couldn’t imagine Quinn had been that awful to her in such a short amount of time. But then I reached the threshold of our bedroom and saw a scruffy, passed out Quinn on the bed with numerous empty alcohol bottles scattered around the room. Then I knew.
Lucas. Elena was talking about Lucas.
I picked up all the bottles and opened the blinds. Quinn looked like he hadn’t showered since I left. I liked Zach, but if that was his idea of keeping an eye on Quinn, I questioned his responsibility.
First, I checked for a pulse then sat in the chair by the window and waited. Two hours later, the beast stirred. His painful moans sounded like a combination of a hangover and the numbness starting to wear off around his healing bones.
“Motherfucker! Who opened the goddamn shades?”
It was gut wrenching to watch, but I silently waited for him to sit up. He put his hand over his eyebrows and squinted at me. “Addy?”
“Quinn,” I responded in a flat voice.
“Shit! I need a drink,” he groaned as he wrapped his arms around his stomach in agony.
“I bet your liver begs to differ. I’ll fill up the bathtub.” I started toward the bathroom.
“I don’t need a bath.”
“Hmm, now I beg to differ.” I kept going and turned on the faucet.
I grabbed Quinn’s shampoo, soap, and razor from the shower. It was ironic how I used to think he looked sexy all scruffy, but at that moment he just looked dirty and hungover.
“Hobble your hungover ass in here and get your clothes off,” I yelled over the running water.
When I peeked out the door, he was still sitting on the edge of the bed hunched over.
I grabbed the hem of his shirt and slowly pulled it over his head. His face tightened as he raised his arms. I wrapped his arm over my shoulder and helped him up. Then I walked him to the bathroom and slipped his shorts and briefs down. He held my shoulders as he stepped out of them. I helped him sit on the edge of the tub. He kept his head down as I grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste. Tilting his chin, he relaxed his jaw enough to allow me to brush his teeth. I used our rinse cups to give him water with one and let him spit in the other. After he eased into the tub, I shut off the water. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
Kneeling down beside the tub, I laid my head on my crossed arms resting on the edge. After a while he still hadn’t made an attempt to move, so I squeezed some shaving gel on my hands and lathered his face. With each stroke of the razor, I waited for his eyes to open, but they didn’t. Grasping the bottom of my shirt, I pulled it over my head and removed my bra. Then I slipped my capris and panties down. Nothing. Quinn remained motionless. My heart ached for him, for us.
Carefully stepping into the tub, I kneeled between his outstretched legs.
Nothing.
I squirted shampoo in his hair and massaged his scalp.
Nothing.
Soaking up water with the washcloth, I rinsed out his hair, but he didn’t so much as flinch as the sudsy water flowed down his face. Emotions threatened but I pushed them away. Quinn couldn’t take care of himself let alone deal with my insecurities.
Using the soapy washcloth, I scrubbed over his neck, arms, chest, and abdomen, stopping to gently run my fingers across his scar.
Nothing.
Setting the washcloth aside, I rubbed his feet and worked my way up his legs massaging his inner thighs with my thumbs. I felt his penis briefly graze my hand as it twitched. He didn’t open his eyes, but there was a slight tensing to his face. He had a semi-erection and I contemplated touching him there, but I didn’t.
Certain that Quinn was miserable, I stood and stepped out of the tub. With my exposed backside to him, I reached for a plush, grey towel and hugged it to my chest.
“Yo
u are so damn beautiful,” he muttered in a raspy voice.
After pausing for a moment to let his words sink in, I wrapped the towel around myself. Turning around, I avoided his gaze as I pulled the plug to let the water drain. When our eyes met, I melted. It had been too long since I saw love in his dark brown eyes. It was food to my starving soul.
“Here,” I said as I held out his towel.
He grasped both sides of the tub and cautiously worked his stiff body to a standing position. He rested his hand on the wall as he stepped out taking the towel from me. After putting on my robe, I stripped the bedsheets and put on new ones.
I turned around and about ran into Quinn. He was standing just inches from me with only a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Jeez, you scared me,” I gasped.
“Sorry.”
He had me trapped in his heated gaze.
“Uh, do you want me to fix you something to eat?”
He shook his head as he untied my robe.
I swallowed my pooling saliva. “Quinn, we should talk.”
He pushed my robe off my shoulders. “I don’t want to talk.” His voice was a gravelly whisper.
He feathered his fingers down my arms leaving a wake of goose bumps. Then he removed his towel letting it fall to the ground. He was fully erect and just the thought of feeling him inside me had my body on high alert.
“Do you?” he asked.
I sat down on the bed and scooted back resting my head on the pillow. My knees were bent and parted. He crawled up the bed to me, and I noticed only a slight tensing of his brow. His lips hovered over mine as he inched into me. He closed his eyes and released a pleasurable moan.
He opened his eyes and kissed me. “I love you.”
My body craved the sensation of him moving against me, but I resisted the urge to encourage him. I didn’t know where his pain and pleasure threshold was, so I let him control everything. His tongue grazed my teeth, and I opened up to him. As his tongue slid across mine, his hips pushed into me. He paused before he pulled back then slid into me again. His pace was lethargic, but as long as he kept filling me with his firm erection I didn’t care.
He leisurely slid in and out of me until I felt engorged and hypersensitive, desperate for my release. I bit my lip and tried to hold back my instinct to meet his hips with more force, more friction. Then all of a sudden I didn’t feel him in me anymore. I tried to look down but he smashed his mouth to mine as his fingers moved between my legs. He rubbed circles over my swollen clit until I broke our kiss crying out his name.
He cautiously rolled to his back beside me. The moment was awkward, and I hated that the part of us that had always been so perfect had become our silent challenge.
He didn’t orgasm. He couldn’t sustain his erection.
“Quinn—”
“Why don’t you go make something to eat?” He cut me off.
He was staring at the ceiling as he pulled the sheet over his waist.
“It’s okay if you can’t—”
“Jesus, Addy! Just go make the damn food!” he yelled.
I grabbed my robe and hurried down the stairs. It amazed me how he could whisper words of love to me then essentially kick me out of the bedroom ten minutes later. I fixed myself something to eat and waited for him to come downstairs. It was nearly forty-five minutes later before he made his way to the kitchen. I was working on my computer and made no attempt to look in his direction.
“I thought you were going to make something to eat?” he asked.
“I did.”
“Where’s mine?”
“In the refrigerator,” I stated in a flat tone.
I heard him open the refrigerator door. “I don’t see it.”
“That’s because you haven’t made it yet.”
Quinn slammed the door and went to his office. “I don’t have the patience for your stupid mind games.”
My thoughts exactly.
*
An hour later Patrick showed up for Quinn’s physical therapy, so I took the opportunity to get out for a while. I went to the local shelter and had some puppy therapy. There were ten new puppies that had arrived since my last visit, and they were exactly what I needed after my emotional roller coaster ride with Quinn. After I got in my car to leave the shelter, I noticed I missed a text from Patrick.
Sorry, Addy. Couldn’t work with Quinn yet again. Call me tomorrow if he’s sober.
I marched through the door and straight to Quinn’s office. He was semiconscious in his chair, holding a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels. I grabbed it from him and poured the rest over his head before slamming the bottle down on his desk.
He jumped out of his stupor. “What the fuck?”
“Get your shit together!” I warned.
I left as quickly as I came. Barely making it through the doorway, I heard glass shattering as the empty bottle connected with the wall. I froze but didn’t look back.
Deep breath … I am peaceful, I am strong.
“I’m not cleaning that up,” I calmly said before I continued to the kitchen.
Quinn didn’t come out of his office the rest of the evening. I checked on him before I went to bed. He had moved from his chair to the black leather couch by the window. I opened every cabinet and drawer in his office, looking for his booze stash. I found two bottles in his office, and then I proceeded to the kitchen where I found three more. I finished by stripping the bar of all alcohol. My assumption was we would not be entertaining anytime soon. After every bottle was emptied, I went to bed. The man I loved was broken and so was my heart. I’d made it through one day of drunk Quinn, but I didn’t know how many more I could take. I’d hoped that with all the alcohol thrown out he would sober up and we could talk.
The next morning I was brought out of my sleep by the sound of cabinet doors slamming and Quinn yelling. I rushed downstairs.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“What the hell did you do with everything?” he growled.
“Everything?” I tapped my lower lip with my finger.
He grabbed me by my arms to the point of pain. “You know damn well what I mean.”
“Quinn, you’re hurting me. Let go,” I pleaded as tears pooled in my eyes.
He released his grip but his dark eyes still pierced mine as he stood tall over me, teeth gritted and chest heaving.
I pushed back my fearful emotions and replaced them with my own anger.
“If you ever touch me like that again we are over. Do I make myself clear?”
He didn’t respond.
I brushed past him and started to put the kitchen back together when I heard the words that had been looming in the shadows.
“You did this to me,” he whispered.
I took a deep breath and exhaled as I turned to face him again.
“Keep going. Get it all out now.” I challenged him.
“You should have told me. If you would have I … we …” He paused.
“We what? We wouldn’t have been together? We wouldn’t have been climbing there? You wouldn’t have fallen? You wouldn’t feel so much pain or feel broken? You wouldn’t be drunk? You wouldn’t be abusive toward me?”
“Don’t!” he yelled. “Don’t try and make me feel bad for what I’ve done. You don’t have any idea how much goddamn pain I’ve been through!”
“I know it’s monumentally inadequate, but I’m sorry, Quinn. I should have told you before you ever proposed. I will live the rest of my life knowing that I am responsible for your injuries. But I can’t … I won’t let you treat me this way. I won’t stay and be your punching bag. I won’t watch you drink yourself to death. If all you see is pain and regret when you look at me, then I shouldn’t be here.”
Quinn looked down at the floor, contemplating everything I’d just said. Then he grabbed his keys and left. I didn’t try to stop him.
*
Waiting for Quinn to return was agonizing so I decided to call Elena. She insisted she come
over so I wouldn’t be alone when he came home. I told Elena about Malcolm and the reason for Quinn’s fall. I told her about my trip to Chicago to visit my parents’ graves and everywhere I went while I was there. I talked about Quinn’s drinking, and she shared her emotional stories about Lucas. Elena truly did treat me and love me like a daughter. I wept for my mother when Elena hugged me because I had longed for years to feel that kind of embrace again. The day passed quickly and we both were getting worried about Quinn. He had been gone for over six hours. I tried calling and texting him. Elena called Zach and I called Quinn’s office, but nobody had seen or heard from him.
We waited another two hours. Elena was in Quinn’s office trying to contact other people or places he might be. I was sitting on the couch, a total wreck, when the door finally opened. I jumped up and headed to the door but stopped in my tracks, like a bullet to my heart.
Oh. My. God!
I remembered back to Christmas when I arrived unannounced to his intimate family gathering. It was like everything was in slow motion, including my brain. It took my mind a few moments to fully process what my eyes were seeing. Quinn, with a bottle of booze in one hand and his other arm draped around the shoulders of a tall, thin blonde. They both stumbled in the door. Neither one saw me and I was completely speechless. I was watching my house burn down and my life being destroyed all over again.
The door closed and she leaned back against it pulling him by his shirt. He took a pull of the amber liquid in his bottle then kissed her. She ran her hands up the inside of his shirt and his free hand cupped her breast over her black spaghetti strapped miniskirt dress.
“Quinn!” Elena shrieked.
I didn’t look at her, unable to peel my eyes off the nightmare in front of me.
Quinn kept his body pressed to hers but turned his head. “Mother,” was all he said.
