Enduring Everything (Marked Heart #1)

by M. Sembera

  Then there was silence.

  Closing my eyes, I laid there. I wondered for a moment if Jackson had left. For the first time, I tried to think of what it would have been like if we had started a life together after my divorce. I was always happy that Jackson had never settled down with anyone. It meant he loved me and there was hope for him to keep his promise. Now, lying in bed, I realized, nothing would have been worse than what was happening now. It was silly for us to have wasted so much time. Especially since, I was no different than I was when he made the promise. Then, I reminded myself it was the same reason I broke up with him at seventeen. Fear. I just never realized he was afraid too.

  It wasn't long before I felt Jackson sit down on the opposite side of the bed. Slowly opening my eyes, I could see the back of his white undershirt as he faced the wall.

  Scooting to the center of my bed, I whispered, "Jacks."

  I watched him raise his head and take a deep breath before turning to me and asking, "Do you need something?"

  "Do you?" I repeated.

  Shrugging, he appeared confused.

  Clearing my throat, I sat up asking, "Is there anything I can do? For you?"

  Shaking his head with a slight smile, he replied, "Just let me hold you."

  Sliding back down, I softly smiled.

  29

  Breaking Point

  I couldn't deal with anyone knowing so we kept what happened to ourselves. Mrs. Thomas understood and agreed no one other than Mr. Thomas needed to know. Jackson and I tried discussing what direction our relationship was headed in after that terrible day but all we knew for sure was that neither one of us wanted to go through that again. I had my tubes tied the next Monday.

  I adopted a new routine that included dinner with Sophia and Ailin once a week, visits with Charlotte on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday and Jackson came over every night. He was busy between work and The Bar. Most of the time, it was late when he arrived at my house and early in the morning when he left. That was fine with me because all I really wanted was to curl up next to him while I slept.

  It was unclear how long I was supposed to wait after my miscarriage and having my tubes tied to have sex. The hospital advised four weeks while Dr. Brin said whenever I felt comfortable. The idea didn't make me uncomfortable in the slightest but the desire to wasn't in me either. One night Jackson made an offer, when I declined, he didn't ask again.

  The next few weeks seemed to pass quickly. I wasn't sad anymore. Although I would never forget, I did learn to put the miscarriage out of my mind. I was however, growing more agitated by the moment. Everyone and everything seemed to grate on my nerves.

  Growing disgusted with my routine and myself, what I really wanted to do was run down the street screaming and waving my arms in the air. Without really understanding what I was angry about, my aggression slowly built until I was no longer able to hold it in.

  ~

  Standing in my kitchen, at the sink, I ran water over the lid of an olive jar. No matter what I tried, I couldn't get the stupid thing open. I turned the water off and set the jar on my counter top. Glaring at it I thought 'Oh you're gonna open' as I reached down and pulled a meat tenderizer mallet out of a drawer.

  A sly smile spread across my face as I slammed the mallet down on the olive jar lid and watched it explode. Suddenly, my heart was pounding and I could feel blood pumping through my veins. With mallet in hand, I felt more alive than I had in a long time. I turned and swung my pantry door open. Pulling out every jar I could find, I lined them up on my counter. Thrilled with my discovery, the rush of destruction made me giddy. Seven jars set in front of me just waiting to meet their demise.

  I heard my front door open just before jar number four burst in front of me. Taking a step to the side, for jar number five, I looked over and smiled wide at Jackson.

  Without giving me a chance to explain, he shouted, "What the hell are you doing?"

  Instantly irritated that he was questioning me, I snapped, "Opening jars."

  His eyes trailed over me before glancing around the kitchen at the broken glass and jar contents that had splattered everywhere with each impact of the mallet.

  Holding out his hand towards my mallet, he demanded, "Give me that!"

  With heavy breath, I swung the mallet onto the lid of the fifth jar.

  "Are you crazy?" Jackson shouted at me.

  Turning to him, I narrowed my eyes and stated, "No," then quickly smashed the sixth jar.

  "Damn it," he fussed, taking a few steps back. Before I hit the last jar, Jackson shouted, "Stop!"

  Holding the mallet in the air, I looked at him and asked, "Why?"

  "You are being crazy!" he shouted in a panicked voice.

  My bottom lip started to shake as I assured, "I'm not crazy." Lowering the mallet to my side, my eyes felt watery as I snapped, "And I'm not needy either."

  I took a step towards him, before he held his hands up and said, "Put the mallet down."

  With a 'Yeah like I'm really going to hit you next' expression, I rolled my eyes and stated, "Fine."

  Placing the mallet on the counter next to the seventh jar, I questioned, "Happy now?"

  Shaking his head at me, he replied, "No I'm not. What is wrong with you?"

  All my anger and frustration seemed to channel itself into answering his question as I screamed, "Why does it always have to be me? Maybe there's something wrong with you!"

  And then, there it was, the look of pity.

  Recalling the first time I was on the receiving end of that look from him, I ground my back teeth together. We had been on one date and I barely knew him. He saw the bruises on me and kissed them. The memory caused a dull ache to creep up in my chest.

  Picking up the mallet, I smashed the last jar.

  With a frustrated expression, Jackson questioned, "Are you done?"

  Placing the mallet back on the counter, I replied, "I'm done."

  "I'll clean this mess up," he muttered.

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I shared, "This is my house and my mess, I'll clean it up."

  Scowling at me, he said, "There's glass all over the place. It's in your hair and on your clothes."

  I glanced down at myself and then around the kitchen before griping, "You think I need you to clean up my mess? I don't need you for anything."

  Frowning at me, Jackson stood there with that 'you're pathetic' look in his eyes.

  Balling my hands up into fists, I shouted, "Leave!"

  Breathing heavily, I waited for him to protest. All he did was shake his head before doing exactly what he was told.

  ~

  It took nearly two and a half hours to clean up my mess in the kitchen and then myself. I had tiny cuts on my arms and fingers. Not from my jar malleting episode, from the cleanup.

  I climbed into bed ready to fall asleep. Moving the pillow next to me sideways, I tried to achieve the same feeling as Jackson lying next to me. When that didn't work, I tried curling up into my comforter. Kicking the covers off of myself, I let out a loud groan. I did need him.

  Slightly bothered by the fact that I was going to have to hunt him down and bring him back to my house, by any means necessary, in order to get some sleep. I hopped out of bed and got dressed.

  Jackson was most likely at the bar, so I tried there first. The soft opening was just around the corner and I knew it was an all hands on deck to get ready sort of thing. When I pulled around back, sure enough, there sat Jackson's car.

  Walking up to the back door of the bar, I hesitated before turning the handle and walking in. The back appeared to be empty after I peeked in William's office. I made my way down the hall hearing Auggie's obnoxiously loud voice first.

  "What I'm sayin' is...you gotta let 'em know."

  'Yep he's drunk', I thought to myself as I continued to eavesdrop.

  William seemed to argue whatever Auggie's point was saying, "You should tell her..." before Jackson cut him off, stating, "I'm not taking relationship advice from either o
f you."

  In a slurred jumble of words, Auggie laughed, "Not him 'course but I know...Ren's got you, man. Get her."

  Having to cover my mouth to keep a laugh from escaping, I was torn between continuing to listen and interrupting them.

  "I have her," Jackson snapped at him.

  Auggie's laughter boomed as he shared, "Not like she's got you."

  Suddenly, it wasn't funny anymore. I knew what Auggie meant and it stung. Not wanting to hear anymore drunken logic, I pushed the swinging door open and stepped into the main area of the bar.

  A bottle of whisky and two shot glasses sat in front of Jackson and Auggie, who were standing behind the bar. William sat on a bar stool facing the bar, with a regular glass that I was sure had water in it.

  "Jacks," I greeted, causing the three of them to turn and look in my direction.

  He stared at me not saying anything until Auggie griped, "What's up traitor."

  Never taking his eyes off of me Jackson ordered, "Go home." Swallowing hard, I took a breath and started to say something when Jackson looked at William and said, "Be back here around one tomorrow."

  Relieved Jackson wasn't telling me to leave, I made my way to the bar.

  Auggie made a disgruntled face as he staggered out from behind the bar. William was quickly at his side making sure he didn't fall down. Pushing away from William, Auggie seemed to sober slightly as he stomped past me and out of the swinging door.

  "Make sure he doesn't drive home like that."

  William nodded at Jackson and replied, "He won't, I have his keys," before walking up to me.

  With a scowl and a deep breath William lowered his voice and shared, "I love her and I'll forgive her, someday."

  Sad for him and Charlotte, both of them needed something the other could not give. Charlotte needed his forgiveness and William needed her to love him.

  Reaching out and hugging him, I nodded saying, "It's gonna be okay."

  After hugging me back, he stepped around me and left to drive Auggie home.

  Jackson did not move from behind the bar. I watched him fill the bottom of his shot glass, lift it and swallow before slamming it down on the top of the bar. Reaching under the bar, Jackson set a clean shot glass on the bar and pushed it towards the edge.

  "I don't want a drink, Jacks," I shared as I made my way to him.

  Filling the bottom of the new shot glass, he questioned, "Then why did you come here?"

  "To talk to you," I replied.

  Lifting the shot glass off of the bar, he held it out to me, informing, "You don't drink. I don't talk."

  Shaking my head as I glanced around the bar, I gave in, saying, "Fine."

  Quickly downing my shot, it burned from my back teeth all the way down.

  The shot I took didn't faze me. It had been a long time since I drank and even longer since my days of taking shots but one thing I always remembered was that shots had a habit of giving you a false sense of security. Everything seems fine one moment and in the next you're hammered drunk.

  Placing my palm on top of the shot glass to keep him from refilling it, I swore, "I want...No, I need you to come back to my house with me."

  Maybe, the shot was affecting me.

  "I don't have a lot of pride when it comes to you Ren but I do have some pride in being a man."

  Frustrated, at his response to my needing him, I snapped, "Then why don't you act like one instead of going around like a love sick teenager all the time!"

  Jackson looked directly into my eyes and asked, "Are you saying, I'm not a man?"

  Stunned, I had insinuated that, I held my breath.

  "You don't think I'm a man," he growled.

  Before I could take it back, take a breath or even blink, Jackson had his hands in the back of my hair and his lips against mine.

  Pressing me against the bar, Jackson seemed intent on proving himself. As unnecessary as that was, I was equally committed to the moment.

  ~

  Jackson's shirt laid underneath me, to keep my back from touching the cold floor. My mind was racing along with my heart at what had just taken place. His breath was heavy as he slowly kissed me. Softer than while he was proving his manhood, his lips made me feel loved after such a primal display.

  I loved the way Jackson looked at me after sex. It was a combination of devotion, love and desire for more.

  "Come home with me," I whispered, starting to feel sleepy.

  With his face just inches from mine he replied, "No."

  Taken aback, I scooted out from under him and sat up, saying, "I really do need you there with me."

  Rolling onto his back, Jackson placed his hands across his chest and looked up at me.

  "I can't keep going like this."

  Agreeing with him, I said, "I know, I won't ask or tell you to leave again."

  "I can't live with it being your life or mine, I want ours," he shared.

  Slowly pulling my clothes back on and getting myself together, I thought that was what I was offering just now.

  Preparing myself to drive home, alone, I lingered at the bar while Jackson pulled his pants back on and picked his shirt up off of the floor.

  Trying not to frown, my eyes traced the wren on his chest as I mumbled, "Bet you wish you'd never married me."

  Shaking his head at me, Jackson asked, "Why do you do that?" before sharing, "You always make me feel bad for wanting something."

  "I do?" I questioned.

  Walking up to me, he placed his hand on the side of my face, gently kissing me before saying, "Stay here with me tonight."

  "You're staying here?"

  "The mattress from the dog house is in the storage room. I figured it would be a good idea to hang onto it with Auggie around," he replied before motioning to follow him as he said, "I'll drag it into William's office.

  Following him to the back, I liked that idea.

  Spending the night with Jackson in what used to be the dog house seemed right after we somewhat christened the bar.

  Jackson pulled the mattress through the door and laid it flat against the floor, saying, "You know, I'm starting to question his heritage a little. I mean the boy is Irish and Gus' son and he's a lightweight."

  Smiling at his picking on Auggie, I said, "That would be funnier if he didn't hate me right now."

  "You know he's worried about William," Jacks offered.

  Sliding my shoes off, I sat down on the mattress, saying, "I know. He called me a traitor though and I know how he is. He'll probably never talk to me again."

  Stretching out on the mattress, he laughed, "You mean argue, y'all never talk."

  Shrugging, I replied, "Whichever, he's being ridiculous about Charlotte."

  Clearing his throat and smiling at me, Jackson revealed, "You know he used to have a huge crush on you, right?"

  Surprised, I blurted, "What?"

  Smiling wide at me, Jacks explained, "When he was a teenager."

  "I'm like ten years older than him," I stated.

  "A sixteen year old having the hot's for a gorgeous woman in her twenties isn't that strange," he laughed before asking, "You remember when he and Braden got in that fight?"

  Giving him a strange look, I said, "I don't remember them ever not getting into a fight."

  Laughing, he nodded before saying, "The time at your house, when they broke your back door."

  "Oh yeah, I thought Sarah was going to start throwing punches she was so mad at them."

  Turning on his side, Jacks shared, "Later on, I asked Braden what they were fighting about and he admitted to starting it. He told Auggie that he was going to tell you about the picture of you he found in Auggie's drawer."

  "So he had a picture of me, that's not a big deal."

  Raising his eyebrows, he said, "It had your name with a heart written on the back."

  Covering my face with my hands, I laid back and replied, "Oh my gosh, okay, I don't want to hear anymore. That's just weird."

  Propping up on his elbo
w, Jackson looked down at me, saying, "Who could blame him. You're very sexy."

  Looking up at him, my tone softened as I coaxed, "Am I?"

  Leaning closer, he informed, "You're the only woman I have ever fantasized about."

  "That is only because it took you twenty years to get me in bed," I teased.

  Shaking his head, he whispered, "I still do. It's hard to look at you without thinking of all the things I want to do to you."

  A slow smile spread across my face before he kissed me.

  30

  A Little Gossip

  A loud buzzing woke me as I covered my face with my arms. The alarm on Jackson's cellphone was blaring in my ears.

  "Turn it off," I fussed.

  The alarm stopped as I felt Jackson slide his arm around me, saying, "I have to go get ready for work."

  With a heavy sigh, I snuggled close, saying, "I don't wanna get up."

  As he kissed the side of my head, he replied, "I need to get in there early and I'm staying late because I'm going to spend a few hours here today too."

  "Please stay the night with me tonight," I begged.

  Pulling back he gave a soft smile and shared, "I don't want us to be up in the air. Take a little time and when you know for sure this is what you want, you can come stay with me."

  "I already know it," I insisted.

  Pulling me back to his chest, Jackson imparted, "This morning you do but what about tomorrow or the next day? I chose to be with you, that's what I want. If it's what you really want too, you can choose me this time."

  Nodding into his chest, I knew exactly what I wanted.

  ~

  Standing in my room, I was excited that for once I knew what to do. On the way home from the bar, I decided since Jackson was staying late at the office, I would wait until the end of the day and finally pick up my box of belongings from my desk at JPT. I also decided I would give it a week before making a grand gesture to show Jackson I chose him. I thought the soft opening for the bar would be a perfect time and place. It was only a week away so I didn't have a lot of time to come up with how I was going to do it but I was sure signing the papers to join our accounts was the best way to show him I was as committed to us as he was.