Forever We Fall

by Chloe Walsh

  “I get it,” she said in a flat tone and I sagged in relief.

  Stepping around me, she kept her face lowered as she opened the shower door and stepped out. I watched her as she silently wrapped a towel around herself before slipping out of the bathroom.

  The minute the door closed behind her, I sank to the floor of the shower. I refused to feel guilty. I needed her safe. If she was pissed with me for that then I could handle it. Besides, I had more to worry about than Lee’s pride.

  The only mother I’d ever known was dying in a hospital bed and right at this moment that worry took precedent over Lee’s stupid fucking insecurity over Kelsie. Linda could die—she would die—any day now and I had no idea how to deal with the emotions that were coursing through me. It wasn’t fucking fair and I couldn’t stop this, I couldn’t make her better, and I knew without doubt that I couldn’t handle her dying. I’d never felt so alone and broken in my life. I couldn’t tell anyone—Linda wanted her condition to remain between her close family members. The image of her emaciated body invaded my thoughts and I let out a harsh, guttural roar.

  Climbing to my feet, I stripped off my clothes and stood under the water with my head bent until my heart beat relaxed and the agony I felt for Linda turned into a dull aching. But by then the guilt I was so sure I could handle about Lee started to swamp me. “Shit,” I hissed as I slammed my palm against the shower tiles.

  I’d messed up.

  Turning off the water, I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my waist. I took a couple of deep breaths before I opened the door. My eyes landed on our bed.

  It was empty.

  Rushing down the stairs I opened the door of the lounge and my heart constricted in my chest when I saw her head of dark curls dangling from the couch. Her small body was wrapped in a thin, brown blanket. Derek was nowhere to be seen, but right now he wasn’t my priority. She was. Like she should have been earlier . . .

  “Lee.” I walked over to the couch and crouched down so I could see her face. “I shouldn’t have said that,” I whispered as I stroked her cheek. She didn’t open her eyes, but a tear slipped down her cheek followed by another and then another. “I’m sorry,” I croaked out. “For everything.”

  Her eyelids clenched tighter as she tucked her chin under the blanket. Her whole body was stiff as a board. She scrunched her chin and pursed her lips in what was an obvious attempt to stop herself from crying. “Okay,” she whispered.

  “Will you come to bed with me?” I begged, needing to hold her in my arms, needing the comfort of her vitality.

  “I’d rather b-be alone to-to-tonight,” she hiccupped.

  “Lee,” I said in a gruff tone. “Please don’t push me away, baby. I had a really shitty day. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I know I was wrong, princess.”

  I watched as she turned onto her other side—away from me. “So have I.”

  No . . . This wasn’t happening. Hooking my arms under her body, I lifted her into my arms before standing. I felt her stiffen in my arms as I carried her upstairs to our room and laid her down on our bed. She didn’t speak a word. She just curled into a ball and cradled her hand to her chest.

  I covered her with the duvet before leaning down and kissing her temple. “You don’t sleep on couches,” I whispered. “Ever.” And then I forced myself to walk out of the room, but fuck if it didn’t hurt.

  “What the hell did you do to her?” Derek hissed the second I stepped out of our bedroom.

  Grabbing my shoulders, Derek shoved me against the wall. “She’s a wreck, Kyle,” he snarled, getting right up in my face. “You just love kicking that girl when she’s down, don’t you?”

  “I know I fucked up, Derek, so just spare me the third degree,” I growled as I roughly pushed him away and stormed down the stairs. I didn’t need this crap. Not from him or anyone else. My head was a goddamn mess. I felt guilty enough without Derek fucking Porter pouring salt in my wounds.

  “Where were you today?” he demanded, following me down the stairs and into the kitchen.

  Ignoring his question, I walked over to the sink and leaned against it, staring blindly out the window. Darkness. Bleakness. Yep, that’s exactly how I felt now.

  “I asked you a question, Kyle,” Derek spat as he came to stand beside me. “Where the hell were you?”

  “It’s none of your business where I go, Derek,” I said flatly, wishing with everything inside of me that I could tell my best friend that my whole world had crumbled beneath my feet, but I couldn’t.

  Linda didn’t want anyone to know. I had no idea why, but I couldn’t break her trust. I couldn’t go against a dying woman’s wishes. “And it’s none of your business what goes on between me and my fiancée.”

  “None of my business?” Derek asked, his tone laced with disgust. “I’m the one who’s spent half the evening trying to console your fiancée and convince her that she’s safe, and you’ve got the audacity to tell me it’s none of my business?”

  “That’s right,” I said wearily. “Wait . . . convince her about what?” I turned to look at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You know what,” he said in a hurt tone of voice. “This time you can dig yourself out of your own mess.”

  Shaking his head, Derek muttered, “I’m out, Kyle,” before walking away from me. “Fix your own damn relationship—if there’s anything even left to fix.”

  I am alone. Strapped to a chair. I can’t move my hands or feet. Someone is holding my head, forcing me to look at them. They’re staring at me and I’m afraid. I’m so afraid. Green eyes full of malice . . . Angry blue eyes . . . Terrified blue eyes . . . Dead green eyes . . . Untrustworthy brown eyes . . . Green eyes and gray eyes burning into my mind . . .

  ‘You ungrateful little whore . . . ‘

  ‘Your mother’s alive . . . ‘

  “Your baby is dead . . .”

  “Grow the hell up, Lee . . .”

  “You’re a fucking tease, Lee . . .”

  ‘Don’t let me die, Lee . . . ‘

  ‘I will bury you both . . . ‘

  My fault. My fault. My fault . . . Everyone is staring at me. Judging me. Hating me . . .

  They repeat the words they have already said to me. I can’t answer them. My words aren’t coming because blood is pouring from my mouth, my stomach . . . Pain is crushing my windpipe.

  He looks at me with sadness. He holds a baby in his arms. My baby. My dead baby. His blue eyes look into mine and I know he will save me.

  But he turns his back on me and walks away.

  ‘Don’t leave me,” I beg in my mind. ‘Save me.’

  He leaves me with them. They step towards me and my body jolts. Pains erupts through my soul. I break apart. I feel my body separate. My body is falling away from me. Separating from my mind. The darkness is claiming me . . .

  My body jerked awake and I stared, without blinking, at the ceiling as I inhaled slow steady breaths. My heart was pounding so hard that my t-shirt was rising and falling rapidly. I bit down on my lip to stop myself from screaming.

  I felt my phone vibrate from under my pillow. Sliding my hand under, I dragged it out and blinked at the screen. It was a text from Karen.

  Did the cops find him?

  I glimpsed at the text message she sent me and with shaky hands I typed my reply.

  No. I’ve heard nothing. He got what he came for. He won’t be back.

  A few seconds later my phone vibrated in my hands and I clicked the message.

  I’m sorry for the way you’ve been treated, Lee. You don’t deserve any of this.

  I shoved my phone back under my pillow and threw the covers off my sweat soaked body. The bedroom door opened and I covered my face. “Princess,” I heard Kyle whisper, but I couldn’t look at him. Scrambling off the bed, I rushed into the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

  There was no point in telling Kyle. He couldn’t fix this and I
was too upset to talk to him right now. Everything was getting on top of me. I needed a break from this cruel life. I’d run away to escape my father—to be free—and now I felt like a caged bird. I’d escaped one control freak bully and had fallen into the arms of another.

  I knew that was my hurt talking and in a couple of days I wouldn’t feel this way, but right now, at this very moment, I just wanted to burst. Rip through my own skin, grab my baby and run. Run far away from this mess. Escape all the pressure and negative people. I wanted solitude. I needed peace. It wasn’t much to ask for. I wanted to shout from the rooftops ‘leave me alone.’

  It had been two weeks since the incident with my father and I’d heard nothing from the police as to Daddy’s whereabouts. And, aside from apologizing to me for shouting at me in the shower, Kyle had closed himself off from me. I hadn’t told him about my father because he was hardly ever at home anymore—and anytime he was and I tried to speak to him, Kyle just shook his head, told me he wasn’t interested, and walked away.

  He wasn’t speaking to Derek either and he looked straight through Hope as if she wasn’t there. He left the house at the crack of dawn every morning and didn’t come home until well after dark each night. I knew he wasn’t going to the hotel because Marcus had called the house phone on numerous occasions demanding to know where Kyle was—that he needed to speak to him urgently.

  Kyle’s behavior was terrifying me and the way he looked at me whenever I approached him–the disgust and hostility in his eyes—made me come to the conclusion that he was either going through something terrible, or else he was finished with me but wanted me to walk away first.

  He was pushing me away on purpose and I was growing weary of trying to cling on. Many nights over the past few weeks, when I’d laid in bed alone, I’d thought about bundling Hope in the car and going to my mother. I hadn’t and I wouldn’t, but the way Kyle was treating me was ripping open every insecurity and old wound that I’d tried so hard to repair . . .

  ‘I’ve had it up to my goddamn eyeballs with your childish fucking stunts ‘ Kyle had said to me, and a small part of me wondered if he was trying to teach me a lesson by not showing up to take me to my appointment.

  Well, I wasn’t going to beg.

  I needed to lean on myself more and become more independent from Kyle.

  I was going to make my own decisions about my life from now on.

  Brushing my hair out of my eyes, I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans, forced my fears to the back of my mind and grabbed the handles of Hope’s stroller before setting off.

  The sky was darkening above me and, pulling the hood of my coat up, I walked briskly in the direction of the lit up diner just up the street ahead of me.

  When I got inside, I ordered a coffee at the counter and plopped Hope into a highchair before taking a seat near the front, glad to be resting my aching feet.

  It was only an hour’s walk from home to the hospital, and only a ten minute walk to this place, but I was unfit. I’d waited all morning for Kyle to come home and take me to my hospital appointment, but by the time three o’ clock rolled by, and the time drew closer, I’d packed Hope up and walked instead.

  The place was virtually empty and I savored the peace and quiet as I sipped on my coffee. It had been thirteen years since I’d sat in a place like this . . .

  We’d gone to a burger park for Cam’s tenth birthday. It was the only birthday party Daddy had allowed me to attend. I’d rode up front with Mrs. Frey in her ford escort that day. Cam and her other friends had sat in the back. Of course I’d sat with Mrs. Frey while we were there, too. Cam’s other friends, Chantelle and Kaci, hadn’t wanted me to sit with them because apparently at seven my weirdness was contagious—and my clothes were dirty.

  Their teasing had bothered Cam more than me. All their name-calling had prompted me to do was learn how to wash my own clothes properly. I had been cleaning them in the sink with a bar of soap, but the day after Cam’s birthday party, Mr. Frey had stopped by with a brand new washer and dryer and had plumbed it into the water for us. Daddy had slept through his entire visit and, to this day, he hadn’t noticed it being in our kitchen . . .

  “Jordy, do you want fries with your burger?” A familiar female voice broke through my thoughts, and I craned my neck in the direction the voice had come from. A low-sized girl with blonde hair cropped in a pixie-styled haircut stood at the counter with her hand firmly secured in the smaller hand of the raven-black haired boy beside her and I immediately recognized her.

  Karen.

  With keen interest I watched as the annoyed-looking teenager, who had served me, glared over the counter at the little boy standing beside her.

  “I don’t have all day, lady,” Neville—I spied his name on the tag he wore pinned to his chest—grumbled in a nasal voice.

  Karen looked around the empty restaurant and then back at the teenager. “I can see that,” she said in a sarcastic tone of voice and I had to stifle a laugh. She had steel in her veins. “We’ll take two hamburgers and two fries.”

  With a stiff nod Neville huffed and set about getting her order.

  “Can I get a coke please, momma?” the little boy asked in a hopeful tone of voice.

  Momma? Karen was a mom? Karen laughed and shook her head. “Not on your life, Jordy. You know what that stuff does to you.”

  Neville reappeared at the counter moments later with her order and I watched as she rummaged in her purse. “You don’t happen to have a job going with that happy meal, do you?” she asked as she handed over a bundle of change.

  A job? Why would she need a job? My chest squeezed at the sight of her counting her loose chain on the counter and I tightened my hold on my daughter’s chubby hand. Empathy coursed through me . . . I’d been in her shoes more times than I cared to count.

  “You’re a dollar short,” Neville complained in an impatient tone of voice and I swore I could have screamed at him for being so cruel. It was blatantly clear she hadn’t enough money and that douchebag was making her suffer on purpose.

  “And we’re fully staffed,” he added with a cruel smirk that proved he was enjoying her discomfort. “Besides, your math skills aren’t very good.”

  “Asshole,” she muttered as she continued rooting in her purse. “Can I pay you back later? I didn’t bring enough change.”

  I watched in disgust as Neville removed a portion of fries from her tray.

  “What’s wrong, momma?” the little boy asked and I couldn’t sit back and watch a second longer.

  Swinging Hope up into my arms, I stalked over to the jerk and pulled ten dollars out of my pocket. “Maybe you should learn some manners,” I said heatedly as I slammed the money down on the counter before casting a fleeting glance at Karen and her son. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  Red faced, Neville took my money, replaced the portion of fries, and returned a minute later with my change.

  “Thanks,” Karen mumbled, clearly mortified. “But you didn’t have to do that.”

  “He was being a jerk,” I said loud enough for Neville to hear me. “You didn’t deserve that. We’ve all been there. I know I certainly have.” Shifting Hope onto my hip, I outstretched my hand and smiled. “And you’ve done so much more for me.”

  “I told you it wasn’t a problem,” she said with a smile. “How have you been holding up? I’m sorry I haven’t called, but I was busy job-hunting.”

  “What?” I shook my head. “Why?”

  “Expensive appetites,” Karen chuckled as she inclined her head slightly towards the child. She stroked Hope’s head softly before sighing, “God, she’s the image of her dad.” Grinning bashfully she added, “I clean Kyle’s office. Your faces are pretty much in every picture frame I dust.”

  “Yeah, she is,” I whispered as I glanced at my daughter who bore her father’s blue-eyes, dark hair, golden skin-tone and one-cheek dimple. A lump formed in my throat and I had to force it down before I
could speak. Don’t think about it . . .”Would you like to sit with us?” I blurted out, pointing towards our table. Normally I would never be so out there with new people, but there was something about this girl that I liked. Her brown eyes were kind and her smile was genuine. And she’d saved me. Big time. “We could have that coffee we talked about?”

  “Oh, um . . .” Karen paused, glanced down nervously at her the little boy, before looking back at me with a sheepish smile. “Sure.”

  “What’s your baby’s name? I’m Jordan, but mom calls my Jordy. It’s ‘kay though ‘cause I don’t mind,” Jordan piped up as he tugged on the leg of my jeans. “Does she like trains? I like trains.”

  I looked down into his innocent green eyes and a wave of familiarity swept through me. “Hope,” I replied softly as I tried to think of where I’d seen this boy before. Maybe I had seen him around the hotel . . .

  Realizing I was now gaping at the small child, I composed myself and smiled warmly. “And Hope loves trains,” I added in an enthusiastic tone of voice. It was true. I wasn’t a lover of television, but Hope kicked and squealed every time the theme tune of Thomas the Tank Engine came on. Kyle was delighted about this and I was pretty sure he enjoyed watching it as much as Hope, maybe more. Stop it, Lee. Don’t upset yourself . . .

  Returning to our table, I moved Hope’s diaper bag to make room for Karen and Jordan to sit, feeling a little less lonely already.

  “How much are her bills?” I asked Patty, Linda’s sister, as we sat in the Hospital cafeteria. Linda had been in and out of consciousness all day and I was feeling fucking useless. “At least let me pay for those,” I muttered as I stirred my coffee with a spoon.

  My hands were shaking so badly most of my coffee was splashing over the rim of my foam cup, but I couldn’t stop. I needed to keep my hands busy. I needed to keep my mind distracted from how badly I’d fucked things up with Lee. I had tried to apologize for speaking to her the way I had, but she didn’t want to hear it, so I’d given up. I was still sleeping on the couch and Lee was doing her very best to stay out of my way. She wouldn’t even look in my direction anymore and every night I came home from the hospital I checked our room to make sure she hadn’t left me . . .