A War Like Ours

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A War Like Ours Page 12

by Saffron A Kent


  Like me, she avoided the crowded areas and did not look at people as she passed. She was trying to be as invisible as I wanted to be. But as always, I saw her petite figure almost glowing among the mass of people. It was impossible not to.

  “So what’s your deal?” Tim asked after a while.

  “My deal?”

  “That’s right.” He nodded. “You hardly talk to people. Hell, you hardly talk to me, and we spend hours together almost every day. And you go bat-shit crazy with your gloves on. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate the passion. But, you know…what’s your deal?”

  Thumbing the blade in my pocket, I asked him, “What’s yours? Why do you love boxing so much?”

  He shrugged, taking another sip of his wine. “I’m a stockbroker. Too much stress. It helps me relax, unwind.”

  “I have stress, too.”

  He chuckled. “I bet. Does that have something to do with you being here, alone, with a five-year-old?”

  I dug the pad of my thumb into the edge of the blade, remaining silent.

  “I see,” he murmured.

  We were both silent, and I continued observing Madison from distance. She set the tray down on the table, and Julia approached her through the crowd.

  Julia placed her hand on Madison’s shoulder and said something. Madison smiled and shook her head. Julia traced her fingers on Madison’s cheek, which translated into a scratch inside my gut. The closer they came, the more insistent the scratching became. My legs itched to stalk over and put some distance between them. Was Madison doing this on purpose?

  “That’s pretty cozy,” Tim commented, watching the same scene unfold. I chose to stay silent once again, but he continued, “Did she do something to you?”

  “Who?” I feigned ignorance.

  “Madison—isn’t that what her name is? The one you punched a guy for. You’re staring at her like you want to kill her.”

  I dropped my gaze and instead stared at the crushed flowers beneath my feet. Runaway leaves from the tree lay on the ground, alongside the dead flowers. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Okay. I get it.”

  Unable to stay quiet, I divulged, “She just…makes me insane sometimes. On purpose.”

  “Insane how?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. It’s just…I’ve never felt this way before.”

  He appeared amused. “Never?”

  “If the feeling oscillates between killing her or kissing her, then no, never.” I realized what I said and straightened away from the tree. “I mean, of course, I don’t mean kissing exactly. I just, I don’t know what I mean.”

  He thumped my shoulder, chuckling. “It’s okay. No judgment here. Well, maybe you should, you know…”

  “I should what?”

  “Compare the two.” At my frown, he explained, “If it’s such a dilemma, then why don’t you try to kiss her once for experimental purposes, just to see how you like it?”

  Something about the absurdity of his comment made me say, “And if I don’t like it?”

  “Then you could always kill her later.”

  “Yes, I think that’s definitely a plan.”

  We laughed softly, and something told me that I was not as alone in the world as I had always thought. Maybe…just maybe these self-imposed punishments were just that—self-imposed.

  ****

  We were a few hours into the party. Tim was gone, and I was still nursing my apple juice. At this point, I was merely holding it because I didn’t know what else to do.

  I had seen Julia talk to Madison numerous times. Every time Madison smiled, a glow came over her face. The scratching from earlier had now morphed into clawing. My anger at Madison mounted. She never looked at me, but I knew she was aware of my whereabouts. She knew exactly where I was in relation to her. She was making me jealous, and it was working.

  Was this the payback for not kissing her yesterday? Maybe I should listen to Tim. I felt for the sharp edge of the safety pin in my pocket—I had started carrying the entire cutting paraphernalia with me—and gave myself a nick.

  Suddenly, Julia was in front of me, smiling. Where did she come from? “Hi, how are you?”

  Julia was the complete opposite of Madison. She was tall, slender and had a lighter skin tone. Unlike Madison, she wore business attire at all times, even now. Julia always looked pristine and careful, but Madison always gave the impression of being thoughtless and messy.

  I forced myself to try and smile but could not. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

  She nodded. “Good. Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  I didn’t think this was mere polite conversation. And I was proven right by her next words.

  “I know I’ve said this before, but I really am grateful to you for coming to Madison’s rescue. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

  “There’s nothing to repay. I did what I had to do.”

  “Sure, but still. It’s just I’ve been taking care of her for so long that if anything ever happened to her, I don’t know what I’d do. So again, thank you.” She chuckled. “Although, I’m a little peeved that it was you who rescued her and not me.”

  “I think you did the actual work. You called the cops, after all.”

  “Yes, I did. And I hope they keep him locked up for a long time. I’m just happy nothing happened to Madison. She has a knack for borrowing trouble.”

  “I’m sure she can take care of herself.”

  “I’m not so sure of that. Not that I’m saying she needs someone to watch over her, but being together for so long has taught me a few things.” She took a sip of her red wine.

  “What kind of things?”

  “You know, little things. Tells, glitches…signs.” She swirled her wine in slow motion as she studied me. “There’s no hiding anything.”

  She smiled, and I clenched my abdominal muscles as if preparing for a blow. Was she implying something? Regardless, there was nothing to imply.

  “Anyway, Madison’s fragile. Extremely fragile. I mean, she can be difficult, but deep down she’s delicate. She needs someone to walk her through life. It breaks my heart sometimes, but I’ll gladly be everything she wants me to be.”

  “She’s lucky to have you then,” I murmured.

  “Yeah, I guess she is. I remember the first time I saw her and I knew. She looked so sad, down-trodden, devastated. I couldn’t look away. I knew she needed me.”

  Her eyes shone in an uncanny way. As if she were thrown back in time and could see Madison right now, ragged and helpless. She seemed to be savoring the memory, enjoying it. There was something…sinister about her, about the light in her eyes. Or maybe I was losing my mind.

  But the nascent part of me, the part that thrilled at Madison’s vulnerability, couldn’t help but feel jealous of Julia, jealous that she got there first.

  I chugged down the entire apple juice, the tart flavor bursting on my tongue. I wished it were the burn of whiskey.

  “Anyway, we’re both lucky. It’s hard to find something so great these days. I mean, you know how it is, right? You’re in love, too.”

  I forgot for a moment about things, basic things—breathing, talking, seeing even. Something enormously heavy pressed against the bridge of my nose. Why would Julia think I was in love? Who did she think I was in love with? Madison? I didn’t think I could have spoken even if I used all my mental faculties.

  It was just as well because Julia spoke when I could not. “I mean, with your wife. So you know how it is to care for someone.”

  Of course. I pushed my finger onto the edge of the safety pin again and felt the skin around the spot stretch tight. “I think so.”

  I didn’t think I was ever in love. I didn’t even know how. I had tried to be, but it never happened. Instead, my incapability killed Nat’s love for me, and then she died herself. And I became the biggest liar that ever lived.

  “I think I should get to other guests,” Julia s
aid. “But you enjoy your evening. It was nice talking to you. And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to contact me. I owe you one for helping Madison. Have a great night.”

  She turned and walked away.

  I fell against the tree, my legs unable to support me; the guilt was too heavy. The weight of it crushed my shoulders. I rubbed the heel of my shoe on the ground, smashing the dead flowers. That was all I was good for—tainting things, killing them, polluting their goodness.

  What was I doing? My wife hadn’t been dead a month, and I was obsessing over a woman who was in a relationship with another woman. I would’ve laughed if it weren’t so tragic. My sense of judgment, loyalty… Everything I had ever held sacred was being destroyed. I had to stop this. Right now. Right here.

  A shriek ripped the music-filled air, and I snapped my eyes up. There was a commotion by the buffet table. People drew a circle around someone lying on the floor. My first thought was Katie. I whirled my gaze to the glass door leading into the playroom. She was safe inside, playing with other children.

  Abandoning my glass on one of the eating tables, I began walking toward the disturbance. I glanced around, looking for Madison. Over the crowd, I saw Lily being hauled up and carried to the reception house. I was informed that she’d fainted, probably even broken her water, too, and was now being taken to the hospital.

  I finally found Madison, walking backward. Her eyes were glued to where Lily had been lying. No one took any notice as she detached herself from the crowd, stopped to take a breath, turned, and slunk away, toward the lake. There was a hollowness that grew in my stomach as I watched her walk away. It cramped and snapped its empty mouth, restless.

  Even though my guilt roared, I could not stop myself from following her into the night.

  Chapter Nine

  Madison

  Lily had been carrying a stack of white ceramic plates and was bent over the table, setting them in place. One second she was upright, and the next she was on the ground, shattered plates lying beside her pale face. I was shocked, unable to move from where I was arranging the silverware and napkins. I stared at her but saw my mom—bleeding forehead, pregnant belly, and chalk-white skin. Even Lily’s hand, lying limp on her side, reminded me of my mom’s, so translucent you could see the veins threading inside. I closed my eyes, but visions of a battered face and bloody lips stuck to the pinkish membrane of my eyelids.

  She’s going to die. I couldn’t watch it again. I ran when I felt a rush of cold under the ninety-degree sky.

  My feet caught on the bumps on the way to the lake, making me stumble. I got onto the running trail and walked up, going farther away from the party. I passed the boating docks, the gently bobbing boats on still water. The music and din of the party grew muffled as I put more distance between us. I stopped when I couldn’t see the lights or hear the music, veered off the trail, and stood beside a tall, sprawling tree. The grass beneath my feet was wild and thick. The dying light of the evening barely illuminated the blue water.

  I stood rubbing my arms to ward off an uncharacteristic chill. My heart was trying to beat out of my chest and fall on the ground with a thwack. I’d known this would happen. I knew that son of a bitch would kill Lily someday. She was going to die. It was only yesterday when Lily and I had been playing silly games, laughing, talking. And now she was going to die like Mom. I rubbed my arms harder, chafing the skin. Why did people I care about die on me? Why did I care to begin with?

  I felt someone behind me, and I swiveled around to find James walking toward me. His crisp white shirt stretched and moved with the sway of his arms, depicting the tightness of his posture. He stopped a few feet away from me and watched me cautiously.

  All evening, I’d felt his gray eyes on me. I’d felt the pull, the urge to look at him. But I hadn’t. I believed in making them look, making them want me so hard that they couldn’t stop themselves from falling. It was part of my charm. And here he was.

  “What, you’re stalking me now?”

  “Why did you run?” He slid his hands inside his pockets and through the stretched fabric I saw an outline of his fist.

  My fingers buzzed with the need to touch him, but I refrained. He’d be doing the touching tonight. “What do you care?”

  “Her water broke. They’re taking her to the hospital.”

  Try as I might, I couldn’t get the image of Lily’s closed eyes and parted lips out of my head. “Thanks for the update.”

  He bit his lips as he analyzed me. I’d seen him do this often—biting his lips till the blood welled out, licking the thick drop off, and biting the torn skin so it’d bleed again. The cycle continued. I liked it.

  “You can punch her husband, but you can’t hold her hand on the way to the hospital.” Rolling on the balls of his feet and ducking his head, he murmured as if coming to a conclusion, “Einstein’s paradox.”

  “Is that the name of another cat?”

  James looked up. His lips held the hint of a smile even though he clenched his jaw. “Julia thanked me for saving you yesterday. She seems to think you’re fragile, too delicate for the world.” He walked toward me as he spoke, coming to a stop closer than necessary but not close enough. “Are you?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  The rustle of him taking his hand out of his pocket followed. He ran his rough finger along the apple of my cheeks, down to my jaw, heating my skin in its wake.

  “But you’re scared. I can see it in your eyes. Tell me why you ran. What scared you back there?” He had a sparkle of a smile. He liked me scared. That got my back up even though a twinge of longing struck the walls of my heart.

  “And what? You’ve come here to gloat? Scare me some more? Does that make you feel good, scaring people, lying to them? Sorry to disappoint you, but you don’t scare me.”

  “She’s going to be fine,” he murmured, ignoring my jab, still with a hint of a smile, still tracing my cheek, flitting his deep eyes over my face.

  “Oh, you know, don’t you? Fucking fantastic.” I hated the tremble in my voice. He was messing with my head. I needed to get away from him. Away from his touch, his minty and tempting breath. Away from the need to somehow see him smile, unabashedly smile.

  “No, I don’t, and neither do you. Staying here won’t change anything. You can be with her if you want, talk to her…” He swallowed, the satisfaction in his eyes turned sour, rotten. “Hold her hand. Unlike me. I never got the chance.”

  His touch on my cheek halted, and he went back to gnawing his lip. A fat drop of blood appeared on the groove of his lower lip, and I had an urge to lick it off. Taste him.

  He looked at me but didn’t see me as he rasped, “She took the job in Florida. She said she wanted to do something she loved. I wasn’t that something, hadn’t been for a long time. But it still destroyed me when she packed her bags and took off. She collided with a car on the highway. Died on the spot. I think about her last thought. What did she think about when she was dying? Did she think about me or Katie or that project? Did she die hating me? Hating our life together? Maybe she thought about all of that. Maybe she didn’t think of me at all. Maybe she was happy she was dying. I’ll never know.”

  Somewhere in the midst of his story, his eyes moved off me and settled on the lake. I’d stopped breathing even so I could listen to him talk. His voice was raspy, rubbing against my bare arms and neck. There was a pinch in my chest that tossed and twisted.

  Here was that signature pain, the pain that made me recognize him in an instant. It was a beacon in the darkness.

  Grabbing his finger that still touched me, I found myself confessing, “My mom died when she was seven months pregnant. Scott came home drunk one day smelling like a cheap whore, and she lost it. They always fought and kicked and screamed. Fucking dream of a marriage. I tried to stop her, like I always did, even when I was a kid. But she never listened to me. She was so out of it that day, didn’t pay attention to where she was going, and she stumbled and fell. And then she
died eleven hours later. I was there when it happened.”

  My eyes stung with unshed tears. Couldn’t believe I was having a heart-to-heart with someone, a man, no less. I expected to feel embarrassed, ashamed of admitting this to anyone. But instead, I swayed on my feet, feeling light. It seemed so natural to say the words out loud.

  She died because her husband was a cheater, an asshole, a bastard. And she didn’t watch where she was going.

  So natural to tell him, to swap death stories. Only thing missing was a campfire and marshmallows and the girly shivers that led to sharing a blanket. Ooh! I’m so scared. Hold me? the girl would say. And the boy would be like, Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from monsters tonight. Except my man claimed to be a monster himself.

  Hold on a second, my man?

  James splayed his fingers, taking hold of my entire cheek. He stared into my wet eyes. “Let the pain take over. Let it own you, turn you inside out. Let it win, Madison. That’s the only way to stop this, to stop feeling.”

  Yes, I wanted that. I wanted it to stop. Was that why I wanted him to hurt me, dominate me?

  Touching the hot skin of his forearms, tracing the bumpy veins and coarse hair, I whispered, “Show me how.”

  His eyes took in my entire body, an urgent sweep of perusal. They grew heated, as if filled with angry, unforgiving lust. Biting rage and passion, glinting like that of an animal. My back arched without my say-so, and my heaving breasts pressed against the planes of his chest. I clawed at his forearm, unable to stop myself. Apparently, I was a scratcher. It was soothing. Who knew? A melody of sharp nails and stinging skin. I looked at his lips. If I took one more step toward him, I’d touch them, taste them, taste the hint of his blood.

  I didn’t know who made the first move. But suddenly his hot lips were on mine and I was kissing him, sucking them into my mouth.

  He shuddered, and I was right there with him. That first contact felt life-changing, breath-stealing, colorful behind my closed eyes. His taste was just as it should be, masculine, minty with a touch of tart apple juice and metallic blood. I fisted his shirt to bring him even closer. Hard planes of his chest cut into the soft curves of mine.

 

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