Unbreakable

by Rebecca Shea

  He speaks quietly, “I can’t. Please understand this is not good for you, for us.”

  “Get out of here!” I cry, tears finally spilling down my face. My body is shaking, and my chest is heaving. I feel like I could pass out. Bending down, I reach for the towel I dropped to the ground and wrap it around my body tightly. He doesn’t move. His hands are balled into fists, but his sympathetic eyes remain on me.

  “Get the fuck out of here!” I yell at him again as I turn quickly and walk away, making my escape into the bathroom across the hall.

  Locking the door behind me, I sit down on the toilet seat and grab another bath towel to bury my face and the sounds of my sobs in. After minutes of crying, I finally hear Gabe’s shoes carrying him down the hallway. Holding my breath, I hear him pause, opening the front door and then closing it with a light click of the lock. It’s then that I drop the towel I was holding in my shaky hands to the ground. I slide off of the toilet and onto the cool tile floor and curl into a ball. I know I’ve lost him.

  Walking in the front door of my house, Ava nearly jumps into my arms.

  “That was quick. How is she?”

  I honestly have no words for what just happened. I’ve been trying to wrap my brain around the last twenty-four hours and everything Jess is experiencing. I’m so confused, she’s pushing me away one minute, then pulling me back in the next, then pushing me away again. I shrug at Ava as I watch the confusion settle in on her face.

  “I don’t know. I honest to God, just don’t know,” I mutter, feeling the back of my throat tighten.

  My worst fears settle in, I’m afraid I’ve lost the girl that I’ve always known, the sweet, innocent girl I’ve fallen in love with. She’s emotionally broken; a shell of the Jess I knew. Mom and Dad walk into the living room where I’m standing with Ava. Mom pulls me into a tight embrace, holding me just like she used to do when I was young. It’s amazing that a mother’s embrace can still have the same affect when you’re an adult.

  “Mijo, how is she?” Mom whispers to me as she continues to hug me.

  She only calls me Mijo when she’s concerned. Shrugging my shoulders, Dad moves in on our hug and wraps himself around both mom and me. I allow myself to cry again, not for me but for Jess. For that broken spirit I just left crying in her bathroom, for everything that has happened to her and everything I couldn’t do to protect her.

  Pulling myself together and wiping the stray tears off of my face, Mom gently tugs my hand and leads me to the couch. I throw myself down, sinking into the soft leather couch and stretching my legs on the coffee table. Ava quietly sits down next to me and leans her head on my shoulder.

  It’s so quiet in here. None of us know what to say or what to do, so we sit silently, deep in thought. I realize that in some instances there are no words to be spoken. The mere presence and support of your family is all the comfort and love that you need.

  Finally breaking the silence, I explain every detail of what happened, as best we know it. Mom sits and cries as does Ava, who is holding my hand. Everyone just sits and listens to me talk and cry.

  “Jessica has been through a very traumatic physical and emotional experience,” Dad says, shifting in his seat. He knows that anything he says to me will not truly bring me peace, but he tries.

  “She needs time. She is going to be erratic with her emotions, you have to accept that and be patient.”

  Nodding my head in agreement, I know this, but I want her better. I want my Jess back. Standing up from the couch, I head to my room to try to sleep, when all I want to do is be lying in bed, curled up next to her, breathing in the smell of her coconut scented skin. I think of her lying in her bed all alone, wondering if she’s afraid, what she’s thinking, and if she’s missing me as much as I miss her.

  Looking out my bedroom window, I can see the front of her house, including her bedroom window, which is dark. Chief’s pick-up truck is in the driveway, and the porch light is on. I consider going back over there to try to talk to her and explain myself better, but I talk myself out of it. ‘She needs time,’ I hear my dad saying. Lying back down, I close my eyes and try to let sleep come to me. I’m beyond exhausted.

  I wake up to the sun peeking through my blinds, and it startles me. I am almost always awake before the sun is out. Rolling over quickly, I look at my alarm clock and it reads ten-thirty. Jumping out of bed, I get myself together quickly and am easily ready in fifteen minutes. My stomach is in knots, and I just want to get to her house. Throwing on jeans and a t-shirt, I run down the stairs, leaving without speaking to anyone. I could hear Mom, Dad, and Ava in the kitchen, but I’m too nervous to talk to anyone. I need to see Jess.

  The walk across the street is almost unbearable. Chief’s truck is gone, and I hope that she is home. He most likely is back to work already.

  “Bastard,” I say under my breath as I knock on the door.

  I can hear the lock click, and the door slowly opens but only halfway. Jess is standing there in a black tank top and a pair of black underwear. Her swollen bloodshot eyes bring out the bright green color of her irises. Even swollen, bruised, and crying, she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Taking a deep breath, I collect my wits and gather my strength.

  “Can I come in?” I ask quietly.

  She opens the door all the way, and steps back, allowing me in. I walk into her living room and she closes the door. Taking a seat on her couch, she drapes a large cream blanket over her long bare legs.

  “Can I sit down next to you?” I ask, careful to ask her for permission. Jess still hasn’t said anything to me, she just watches me with those cautious, swollen eyes.

  “Yes,” she finally says.

  I move next to her and sit down, reaching out to push her long hair back off of her shoulder. She flinches when my fingers brush the top of her shoulder, and I pull my hand back immediately. The thought of my touch hurting her, or upsetting her, sends bile to my mouth.

  “Um, Jess…” I say, pausing when she pulls her eyes from mine and looks at her hands that are folded in her lap. “There are a million things I want to say to you and to tell you…” She still won’t look at me. Fuck. “I love you. I have always loved you...”

  “Stop. I need you to listen to me for a minute before you say anything else.” Jess says, interrupting me mid-sentence.

  Giant tears roll down her face. I reach out slowly, pausing for her permission to wipe them off of her cheeks, and she pulls back from me again. What the fuck?

  “I need you to let me go,” she says.

  My stomach clenches and my heart is racing. I feel like I might vomit.

  “Two days ago changed who I am and who I will be forever.”

  I can’t even listen to this.

  “Are you breaking up with me?” I ask angrily. I’m not angry; I’m hurt. Before I even let her answer, I continue, “You are not leaving me, Jessica. You do not get to throw us away because of what happened to you.”

  She raises both of her hands to cover her face. The tears are leaking out from underneath her hands, running down her arms, and her entire body is shaking.

  “I love you. But please stop pushing me away. We will work through this together.”

  She shakes her head no, never letting her hands leave her face. She gasps for breaths in between her sobs. My body is shaking from my emotions that are fluctuating between sadness and anger. Why is she pushing me away?

  “Is that what you really want? You want me to let you go? Say it again. Mean it.” Her face is still buried in her hands, and her entire body is trembling.

  “Tell me right now that you really want me gone, for good, and I’ll leave you alone. Is that what you want?” Dropping her hands from her face, they fall into her lap almost lifeless.

  “Look at me,” I whisper. She raises her head slowly, looking directly at me. “Do you really want me to leave you?” I take one of my hands and slowly reach it out to touch hers. She doesn’t pull back from my reach this time. I tighten my
hand around hers, squeezing it lightly, and she squeezes mine back gently.

  “I need you to leave,” she chokes out, pushing my hand away. My heart stops in this moment. I swear to God, the world stopped moving. I gather what little strength I have, and on wobbly legs, stand up.

  “If that’s what you want, Jess, I’ll go.”

  She drops her head forward and wraps her arms tightly around her waist. Her body is limp as she quietly nods her head yes at me. I don’t know how my legs carry me to the front door, but they do. Reaching for the handle, I pause, turning back to look at her. Opening the door slowly, I step onto the front porch.

  I offer up the few words I have left in me. “I will love you forever. Forever. Don’t you ever forget that.” I summon the energy to slowly shut the door on everything I have ever loved and walk away to the sounds of her loud sobs inside the house behind me.

  Resting my head on the edge of the toilet seat, I try to catch my breath in between my bouts of vomiting and crying. Wiping my nose on the sleeve of my shirt, I muster the strength to push myself into a sitting position. My lungs are burning, and my stomach won’t stop clenching, causing me to dry heave. I just pushed the most important person in my life, the only man I’ve ever loved out of my life, and I’m not even sure why. Another wave of nausea hits, and I’m hunched back over the toilet again, spewing nothing but stomach acid, as I haven’t eaten in two days. Closing my eyes, I rest my head back on the toilet seat. I know it’ll be just a matter of time before I throw up again.

  Waking up, I realize I must have fallen asleep on the bathroom floor. My face is pressed to the cold tile. Pushing myself up to a sitting position, I am overcome with dizziness, and my head is pounding. I feel hung over but I know it’s from the hours, make that days, that I’ve spent crying and throwing up. Taking a minute to get my bearings, I stand up and walk myself over to the sink. Grabbing my toothbrush, I spread a sizeable amount of toothpaste across the soft bristles and brush my teeth and mouth.

  Standing upright, I catch my reflection in the mirror. I don’t even recognize myself. I am a shell of what I used to look like. My skin is pale and light compared to my normal olive skin tone. I’m still covered in bruises; some have started to heal, casting a greenish-yellow hue to them. My brown hair is stringy and dry, unlike its normal full, bouncy waves. My lips are light pink, cracked, and dry, instead of plump and bright pink. I don’t even know who the fuck I’m looking at in the mirror. A single tear falls from my eye, and I watch it trail down my cheek, falling as it lands on the bathroom counter.

  For two weeks, I’ve stayed holed up in my house. I’ve successfully avoided any contact with Gabe, Ava, and any of the Garcia’s for that fact. I’ve ignored phone calls from the detectives working my case, and calls for follow-up doctor appointments. I’ve successfully shut the rest of the world out. Dad has spent almost every day working—his coping mechanism, and I have spent two weeks on the couch, watching bad reality shows—my coping mechanism, remaining numb to life outside of my own. I waver back and forth between blaming Gabe for going to work that night, to understanding that this isn’t his fault. I want so badly to find a reason to hate him, so that my actions in pushing him away are justified, but my heart could never hate him.

  Last week was spring break, and so far for this week, I have skipped all my classes. One week of missed classes won’t set me too far behind, but I’m just not ready to face the outside world yet. I’ve been dodging calls and voicemails from my academic advisor. I know she is calling to discuss my internship, and that is the furthest thing on my mind. Janet’s ears must have been burning, as my phone rings again, and her familiar number flashes across the screen.

  “Hello?” I answer quietly.

  “Jessica? This is Janet, Janet Collins from SRSU. I’ve left you a couple of voice messages. We need to talk about your internship. We have a problem.” As if I can deal with one more problem in my life right now. I sit, silently crying, listening to dead air, not even sure I care about what she has to tell me. Finally, I sniffle, breaking the silence.

  “Jessica, are you alright?”

  “Actually no, I’m not,” I speak barely audible.

  “It’s just an internship, we’ll get you another one,” she says. I didn’t realize that my other one had fallen through, but I guess that’s why she’s calling me.

  “Your local internship was cancelled due to mandatory cuts at the station. They couldn’t take on supervising interns while they are reducing staff. They just don’t have the resources,” she says, sounding regretful.

  “I understand,” I respond, still sniffling.

  “But I have an opportunity I want to talk to you about. I know you don’t want to leave California, but it’s a really, really good opportunity. I’d like to discuss it with you. Will you please be open to speaking with me about it?” Silence fills the phone line between us.

  “Sure,” I whisper.

  “Good. Be at my office at three o’clock. We have to jump on this fast.” She doesn’t even say goodbye before hanging up the phone. Checking the time on my cell phone, it’s already one o’clock, and I need to shower and see if I can somehow make myself look presentable. Dragging myself off the couch, I decide it’s now or never to face the real world.

  Hesitantly, I knock on Janet’s office door.

  “Come on in.”

  My hand shakes as I turn the doorknob and push the door open.

  “Hi,” I offer sheepishly. Typing, ever so fast on her keyboard, she swivels her chair around with a huge smile on her face, until she sees mine. A quiet, yet audible gasp escapes her as her smile fades and concern washes over her face.

  “Hi. Take a seat.” Her voice is quiet and her posture has become more rigid. “Before I get into all the details about this internship, I have to ask you if you’re okay? You’re face…”

  I interrupt her. “Is bruised, I know. Am I okay? I don’t know. I’m all over the place. This is the first time I’ve left my house in damn near three weeks,” I mumble.

  “I have to ask you this, so please don’t be offended. Did your boyfriend…” I scoff at her insinuation that Gabe would ever hurt me. He would never.

  “No. He didn’t, and he’s not my boyfriend anymore. If you must know all you have to do is read the newspaper or watch the news,” I interrupt her as my voice breaks.

  Her eyes grow with my admission, and she inhales sharply. “Washington Park?”

  I nod as tears blur my eyes. I hear her chair roll over to me, and a small, soft hand rests on top of mine.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, causing me to flinch.

  “Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault,” I whisper. “Just please tell me about this internship. Tell me something so that I stop thinking about all of this.” I wave my hand up and down my body from my face to my feet. Nodding, she pulls her hand away and rolls her chair back to her desk. Wiping my tears with the back of my hand, I listen intently as she describes what very well may be an escape from my miserable reality.

  Leaving Janet’s office, my head is spinning with everything she just dumped on me: internship, North Carolina, guaranteed, leave in three weeks, school credit. I think I left her head spinning with everything I dumped on her as well. Before I left Janet’s office, she sat and cried with me, and listened to me, and reassured me. It was the first time in two weeks that I felt like talking to someone. Maybe I would come out of this on the other side not completely shattered. I have to decide in the next week if I’m going to take this internship in North Carolina, as they want me there on the first of May. I would be missing the last three weeks of school, but the internship counts as credit, and Janet has arranged for me to test out of the remainder of my classes should I decide to go. She claims it’s an opportunity too good to pass up.

  North Carolina. I’ve never been there. Janet tells me it’s on the water and that it’s beautiful. I would be leaving everything I have ever known here in California, but then it’s not like I have any
thing here anymore. I’ve pushed Gabe, Ava, and everyone else away, and Dad has buried himself in work again. It’s actually an easy decision. I need to take this internship. I need to do this for me.

  This is the first time I’ve been out of my house since Dad drove me home from the hospital almost three weeks ago. It’s bright and sunny and warm. I drive home with my windows down and feel the fresh air whip my hair around, slapping me in the face. Turning the corner onto our street, I try not to look at the Garcia’s house as I drive by. Remembering the excitement I used to feel coming home, turning the corner and onto our street, anxiously looking to see if Gabe was home, I find myself caught in the same habit. I look. His truck is in the driveway for the first time in two weeks, I assume he’s been staying over at Luke’s apartment, as far away as possible from his house and me.

  My heart beats a little faster knowing that he is just across the street. However, for the last two weeks I’ve ignored his calls and texts until he finally stopped sending them. Pulling my car into the driveway, I raise the windows and step out. The smell of the blooming flowers on the citrus trees catches me, and I throw my head back as I close my eyes and just breathe. I breathe in deeply the scent of those citrus blossoms and feel the warm sun on my face. For the first time in two weeks, a sense of peace falls over me, if only for a few short seconds.

  Raising my head, I open my eyes, and push the button on my key fob, locking my car doors. Looking back to my car to ensure I’d shut the windows, I glance up to see Gabe standing in his driveway staring at me. He doesn’t smile or wave at me, or show any emotion toward me at all. He just stares at me, and I stand frozen, staring back at him, the sweetest man, the only man I’ve ever loved stands in defeat.

  Lowering my eyes down to my feet, I raise them slowly, to find him still standing there, staring directly at me. His stance is firm, but his shoulders are slack. I raise my right hand slightly to indicate a half-hearted wave. He doesn’t move, he just stands and stares at me. Turning myself around, I walk slowly up the front porch, and into my house, glancing back at the man that I love that looks so broken. By the time I lock the door, set my purse down, and peek out the window, he and his truck are gone. I promise myself that before I leave I will talk to him.