Fractured Lines

by Jen McLaughlin

  “Yes. God, yes. Everything is great. Fabulous. Wonderful. Superb. Fanta—”

  Finn cleared his throat. “I think he gets it, Ginger.” He squeezed my shoulders, silently telling me to play it cool, which I obviously wasn’t. “One more adjective isn’t necessary,” he said lightly.

  “Right.” I forced a smile. “What’s up, Dad?”

  He stared at us, not talking. I knew that he knew we were acting strangely, but hopefully he didn’t push the issue. “I brought you an early Christmas present. I’m taking Susan home with me tonight.”

  I blinked at him. “You want to take her away? Why?”

  Finn stayed silent.

  “I’m sending you and your husband away for a romantic weekend for two. Just you, Finn, and the woods.” He smiled and snatched Susan out of Finn’s arms. “I remember after we had you, your mother and I did the same thing. We needed some alone time after the exhaustion of raising a baby.”

  “What?” I shook my head, panic rising in my throat. “No. We can’t. I mean…we can’t. No. No way.”

  Dad raised his brows. “Why not?”

  “Because I…” I glanced at Finn, silently asking for help. He stared back at me silently, completely unhelpful. “I just can’t let Susan go without a moment’s notice like that. And I can’t leave right now. Work is too busy.”

  “You can make it work. It’s the weekend. And if you need money, you can always ask me for some help. You know that.” Dad crossed his arms. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me?”

  Finn shifted his feet and tugged on his hair again. “I’ll go pack up some clothes for Susan. Thank you for your kind present, sir. We appreciate it.”

  Dad nodded once. “You’re welcome.”

  Finn went upstairs, and I collapsed on the bottom step. “Dad, this wasn’t expected at all.”

  “That’s the point of a surprise. It’s supposed to be unexpected.”

  “Oh, believe me, it was,” I muttered under my breath.

  But now that I’d overcome the initial panic at the idea of an intimate weekend away with Finn, maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. It might be the perfect opportunity for me to find out just how deep Finn had fallen again.

  It might give me a chance to help him come back, and it might be the perfect opportunity to get him to see that he needed help. He had to see it for himself.

  Just like last time.

  “Carrie?” Dad asked, waving his hand in my face. “You in there?”

  I snapped out of it. “Uh, yeah. I’m excited, that’s all. Thanks, Dad.” I stood up and kissed his cheek, then rubbed Susan’s hair off her cheek for her. “We needed a weekend away.”

  Dad smiled. “I’m happy to help. Your mother is, too.”

  “Why didn’t she come with you?” I asked.

  “She’s shopping for Susan’s arrival.” Dad rolled his eyes. “You know how she is.”

  “I’m going to have to build a new closet for her, aren’t I?”

  Dad laughed.

  Finn came down the stairs, small luggage bag in his hand. “All packed.”

  “That quick?” I looked at the bag. It seemed awfully light. “Are there enough clothes in there?”

  “With your mother shopping as we speak?” Finn shrugged. “We should be good.”

  “The man has a point.” Dad took the bag and slung it over his shoulder. “I already have a car seat, so we’ll be out of the way now. Say goodbye.”

  “But I was cooking her dinner!” I said quickly. “Stay for a little while and—”

  “I have a meal waiting for her at home. Chef made her favorite.” Dad pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it off to Finn, but his eyes never left mine. “Here are the keys. You two need to get started on that romantic weekend. If you head out now, you can make it there by nine. The cabin will be stocked with everything you need. Wine. Food. Firewood. The two of you can stay inside, and not have to leave at all the whole time. Ignore the world and all your troubles.”

  If only it was so easy.

  Finn

  I followed Carrie up the well-worn path to the cabin, holding our bags in my hands. I couldn’t believe how easily she agreed to her father’s plan, quite honestly. I’d expected her to agree to go, but not actually go. I’d expected a fight from her.

  Instead, she’d just started packing her bags.

  Glancing over at Carrie, I studied her profile. She unlocked the door and pushed it open. After she flicked the light on, she blinked against the brightness and tugged off her green fingerless mittens. I still remembered her knitting them, right before the accident.

  Before all hell had broken loose.

  She glanced around the cabin and headed straight for the kitchen without a word to me. I didn’t follow her. Instead, I checked out the security of the cabin with a critical eye. Just in case the idle threat became an un-idle one.

  There were only three windows, from what I could see, and one entry, so her father had chosen a smart location for defense. The cabin might look small and quaint on the outside, but on the inside it was more luxurious than cozy. Leather couches, maple wood tables, and glass lamps filled the living room, which had a huge glass fireplace in the center.

  The kitchen beyond the living room was all granite countertops and maple cabinets. It had an island too. The whole cabin smelled like apple cinnamon. The room leading to the left must be the bedroom, so I headed that way with the bags. I turned on the light with my elbow, and froze. A red velvet comforter topped the king-size bed, and there was a hot tub in the corner of the room.

  A fucking hot tub in the bedroom.

  In another lifetime, before I’d fucked it all up, we’d have had a lot of fun in this room. Now, I’d probably be on the couch, and she’d be in here alone. Sometimes I hated myself. Sometimes I hated her a little bit, too.

  Not as much as I loved her, of course, but enough that it tasted bad.

  She’d sworn to love me forever, for better or for worse. I’d been great for years. I’d been a clean, sober, supportive, loving husband and father. But the second I slipped up, she was done with me. She told me I should leave.

  That wasn’t what love was supposed to be, was it?

  Shit if I knew anymore. Rubbing my jaw, I tossed the bags on the bed. I might not know much, but I knew one thing—if I was looking for the perfect chance to remind her just how good we fit together? This. Was. It.

  We were in a cabin together in the middle of fucking nowhere. She had nowhere to go. All she needed was a reminder of how much we loved each other, and everything could go back to normal. We’d be back to being us, and I could go home.

  I shut the bedroom light off and walked into the living room, but I only made it two steps before I froze. Carrie popped a cork, and the sudden sound sent a shaft of fear racing through my veins. I staggered back, my hand reaching for the gun I’d started wearing again. Wearing it made me feel safer in a world of mayhem, craziness, and unpredictability.

  Before I withdrew it from the holster, though, I pulled my shit together. I held off the panic with a deep, calming breath. She dumped the champagne down the kitchen sink and clunked it on the counter loudly. Then she picked up another one and struggled with the bottle of Asti. She hadn’t seen me yet, and had missed my mini freak-out. Thank fucking God.

  Shoving my hands in my pockets, I came closer. I tried my best to look cool and calm. Collected and in control. Everything I was not. “Are you sure you want to do that? You’re stuck here with me all weekend. You might need to drink to survive.”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” She struggled to pop the cork, not looking my way. “We don’t need this in here with us.”

  In other words, she didn’t want me to slip and get drunk, as well as getting high. She didn’t need to worry. I had no interest in any of that shit, but she’d never believe me. Not after what I’d done. “Let me help you.”

  She finally looked at me. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “I
can do it.”

  “I assure you I can touch a fucking bottle without turning into a slurring drunk,” I snapped, stalking across the room and coming up behind her. “Let me help.”

  Reaching over her shoulder, I gently pried her fingers off the bottle. She hesitated, but finally let go. “Okay.”

  “I’m not drinking, and I’m not taking pills,” I repeated. “I’m better now.”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, and pushed off the counter. When she reached the corner of the kitchen, as far away from me as she could get without leaving the room, she crossed her arms and watched me. “Have you thought about getting help again? Dr. Montgomery helped you so much last time.”

  “I don’t need her this time.” I popped the cork. “I’m not as bad as I was when we were younger. I’m fine, Ginger. Really.”

  She wrung her hands. “Finn…”

  I shrugged. “Don’t worry. You’ll see it for yourself when we’re here. You’ll see I’m good again. I don’t want pills or drinks or anything. I only want you,” I said.

  So fucking badly it hurt.

  “Are you sleeping yet?”

  She’d asked me that earlier. I’d avoided the answer because I wasn’t. If she knew that, she’d have another reason to keep me away. If she knew how dark I was right now, she’d never trust me again. Especially if she knew how unbalanced I was right now.

  The thoughts in my head sobered me.

  If I was this messed up, maybe I shouldn’t be trying to get her to let me back in. Maybe it was better this way, with her in our house, and me in a hotel. Maybe I shouldn’t be around people right now. Maybe she was safer without me. Maybe they all were.

  Shitfuckdamn. How had I let myself fall so far, so fast?

  But I could fix it. I was already getting better. I just—

  She cleared her throat. “Are you going to answer me?”

  I snapped back to attention. “No. I’m not sleeping. I’m not sleeping at all.” I stared down at the bottle in my hand, anger and frustration hitting me hard. “Maybe that’s because I’m in a crappy hotel bed instead of at home where I belong, though.” As soon as I said it, I wanted to punch myself in the nuts for making it seem as if it was her fault I was a fucked-up mess. That wasn’t fair, and I knew it. “Carrie…I…”

  She crossed her arms. She looked so strong. I wished I were half as strong as she was right now. “You’re the one who hid your symptoms from me. You’re the one who made it quite clear that you didn’t want to involve me in this.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t want to be your pet project or your live-in patient.”

  “I don’t have to be involved in all aspects of it, but I have a right, as your wife, to know if there’s something wrong. I don’t think it’s wrong of me to expect that.” She held her hands out. “But you do need help.”

  You need help. Those were fast becoming my three most hated words in the whole fucking universe. I’d thought I’d been done hearing those words after all those years, but she couldn’t see that I wasn’t the same guy I’d been back then. I could get better on my own.

  Already I’d stopped with the pills. The rest would follow. Sure, the nightmares were still there, as was the fear, but I was used to that. I’d already been living with it for years. All of that would calm down eventually.

  I just needed to come home.

  “No.”

  “Okay.” She let it drop. She would, because as a therapist, she’d know to tread lightly. Not to push me too hard. I knew all their tricks. She bit her lip. “We need to discuss sleeping arrangements.”

  “I’ll take the couch.” I slid the empty bottle across the counter and reached for the next one. “Jesus, did your dad think we were going to throw a fucking rave, or what?”

  “Apparently,” she said drily.

  Her lips had twitched for a brief second, but then she’d tamped it down. As if she was scared to actually smile in front of me. As if she was worried if she smiled, I might forget that I’d let her down. Didn’t she realize that wasn’t something I’d ever forget? I fell asleep thinking about it, and it was the first thing on my mind when I woke up.

  How much I’d fucked up again.

  “Or he was hoping for a second grandchild,” I said, easily popping the cork on the bottle in my hands. “Too bad he won’t be getting that now. Not from me anyway.”

  She bit down on her lower lip again. “Is that your way of saying you’re leaving me for good?”

  I was leaving her? Was she fucking insane? She’d told me to get out. Not the other way around. “I thought you made it pretty clear you were done with me when you told me to get out of our home.”

  “I was scared,” she whispered. “You scared me. You’re scaring me now, as well.”

  My heart twisted. I’d never wanted to do that. Never that.

  But truth be told? I was scaring myself, too.

  “Yeah.” I stared down at the empty sink. “I know.”

  She threaded her fingers together in front of her stomach. “Let me ask you this. What do you want from me?”

  I wanted her to forget all about what had happened. I wanted her to love me again. I wanted her to stop reminding me how fucked up I was, and hug me close. Tell me I’d be okay. Tell me we’d be okay. But that wasn’t going to happen, because I wasn’t.

  And neither were we.

  “I don’t know.” I dumped the bottle, watching the pale liquid go down the drain. “But I never said I was done with you. I swore to love you forever, and I will. Whether you love me, hate me, or don’t give a shit about me, one way or the other, I’ll love you.”

  “I’d never hate you.” She shook her head, backing away a step. “You know that.”

  “You might not hate me, but I think you’re done with me.”

  “Obviously not, or I wouldn’t be here,” she said, her cheeks flushing with anger.

  “Or you’re just not ready to admit it yet. You’ll have to eventually say it, Ginger.” I slid the bottle across the counter and grabbed the last one harshly. “It’s easy. Just say, ‘I don’t want to be with you anymore, Finn. We’re done.’”

  She’d be better off without me.

  She shook her head even faster. “I’m not. We’re not. Susan needs her father, and I need my husband, but that man is not who you are right now. You’re drowning. And all you need is a little help finding your way back to dry land, if you’d just let yourself take it. If you’d just take what you want and turn it into—”

  I set the bottle down on the counter harder than necessary. She jumped. “I know what I want. I want you.”

  She closed her eyes, not saying anything.

  What was there to say? I wanted her, and she wanted me gone. Our story was over. “Would it be easier for you to say it if I became a total asshole again?”

  “W-What?”

  I stared at her, bottle in hand. “I could drink this in front of you, like I did the last time we broke up. I could act like I don’t give a shit about you or us or Susan. I could tell you a bunch of bullshit lies again, so you get pissed off at me all over again. Then you could justify it. Then you could make it easier on yourself. Is that what you want?”

  “No. Of course not, you fucking idiot.” She balled her fists at her sides. She was cursing. That meant she was pissed. Good. I was pissed too. “If I wanted to get rid of you, do you think I would be here with you now?”

  My heart sped up. Fucking stupid heart, always putting hope where hope didn’t belong. “Does that mean you want to keep me?”

  She stared at me silently, as strong as ever. I’d always admired that about her. I’d spent my life protecting her, but she didn’t need it. Not really. She could take care of herself. She didn’t need me. Not like I needed her. “It means I’m confused, and hurt, and lost,” she said.

  “I know what it feels like to be lost.” I undid the twist lid on the last bottle of wine and dumped it. “I always have been lost without you, but you knew that already.”

&n
bsp; We locked eyes, and for the first time since she kicked me out, I felt like she actually saw me. But then the motion detector light outside lit up and ruined it all. The screams in my head got louder, as if they sensed the risk before I did and were trying to warn me of the impending danger.

  Eyes narrowed, I walked past her. “Stay here. Don’t move.”

  “Finn?” she asked, her voice soft. “What’s up?”

  “Just stay here, and don’t follow me,” I snapped, heading for the door. “Ask questions later.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. After a second’s hesitation, she moved away from the window behind her with wide eyes. I pushed the curtain back just enough to see what was outside. A deer chewed grass on the front lawn, completely oblivious to the tension he’d brought out in me. I stood there, watching for any other signs of movement.

  The deer took off after a few seconds, and nothing followed it. Not even a fucking bunny hopped out of the bushes. Still, I watched. After a tense minute, I sighed and the light turned off. I stood there, making sure it didn’t come back on.

  “Finn?”

  “It’s safe. It’s just a deer,” I murmured, glancing over my shoulder at her. “Nothing’s out there.”

  She pressed her lips together, her pale face framed by her wavy red hair. She came up to me, stopping directly behind me. So close I could smell her perfume and shampoo. So close I wanted nothing more than to hold her close and kiss her until she remembered how good we were together. Until she needed me again.

  Her eyes were locked on my hand. “When did you start carrying that again?”

  “What?” I looked down and froze. I’d pulled my gun out and hadn’t even realized it. “Oh. Recently.”

  She reached out with a shaking hand, closing her fingers around mine. “Can I have it? Please?”

  “What?” My fingers tightened. “Why?”

  “Because I love you.” She looked up at me, her eyes melancholy. “And you shouldn’t have this when you’re battling such a dark time in your life. If you…if you hurt yourself…it would kill me. I’d die, too, Finn. Please give me the gun.”

  My stomach tightened as if I’d been sucker-punched. She thought I was suicidal again? Did she think I was that far gone? Hell, was I? I wasn’t so sure anymore.