by S. Walden
Cadence stiffened. It was the first time he said her name.
“I’m just tired,” she replied. “Maybe tomorrow?”
“Okay.” He kissed her shoulder and waited for her to fall asleep against him. She usually did. But not this time. She pulled away from him, turned her back on him, and hugged the edge of the bed.
“We did everything we could . . .”
Mark blinked, focus going in and out. He tried to concentrate on the doctor’s words. He saw lips moving, but no sound. There was no sound. There was only a look of concern and defeat. The doctor was defeated. He’d lost the fight, and now Mark was left to clean up the ashes.
“. . . highly irregular . . .”
He didn’t know how to clean up after a battle. He’d never had to do it before. Even when his father fell ill, everyone was prepared for it. The cancer didn’t take long. The doctor said he had three months. And it was almost three months to the day when his father died. Everyone was ready. The plans had been made. Clean up was minimal.
“. . . need to know when you’d like to see her . . .”
Mark stared at the doctor’s mouth, dazed. He might as well have repeated “watermelon watermelon watermelon” over and over for all Mark understood of the doctor’s words.
It was over. Pointless. His world gone, and he burst out laughing.
His mother grew frightened. “Mark, honey?”
Mark pointed to the doctor. “My wife’s dead, and he keeps saying watermelon!”
He roared with laughter—hideous laughter. It reverberated in the lobby of the hospital, and a nurse was called. Too much commotion. He needed to be taken away.
“Mark . . .” His mother cried softly as she stroked his arm.
“What? It’s funny,” he said, then collapsed in a wheelchair that was rolled into the lobby for him. “Dead wife. Watermelon. Dead wife. Watermelon. Dead wife. Water—”
“Mark!” Cadence yelled, shaking him.
He tore off the sheets and sat up in bed, wiping his face. He’d been crying.
“You . . . you were talking in your sleep,” Cadence whispered.
“Jesus,” he gasped. He slunk out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He closed the door softly and sat on the edge of the tub, cradling his face in his hands. The tears kept streaming, and he couldn’t stop them.
He heard a soft knock.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” he croaked.
She came in anyway and sat next to him.
“Just a bad dream,” he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
Cadence nodded. She pulled his shirt over her knees to combat the chill in the bathroom. She was always stretching out his shirts, he noted.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked tentatively.
He shrugged.
“It may help,” she offered.
He took a deep breath.
“I was married at twenty-three,” he began. “I know that’s young by today’s standards, but after my dad died, I wasn’t interested in playing the field. I wanted to find someone who loved me as much as I loved her, and build a home and life together.”
Cadence listened intently.
“Andy went to college with me. She was in this group of friends I had—Dylan included—and we hung out for about a year before anything romantic happened. Once I knew I loved her and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, I didn’t hesitate. I was working. I’d saved up a little bit of cash, and spent it all on a ring.”
Cadence nodded.
“No regrets. I was broke after that and didn’t care. I’d buy her a million rings if I could.”
Mark paused for a moment.
“We did the whole broke young married couple thing. Lived in a tiny apartment after we graduated—”
“This apartment?” Cadence asked. Oh my God! Was she just sleeping in their bed? Had she been making love to Mark right where Andy had slept—had made love to him?
“No, Cadence. I moved after she died.”
Cadence relaxed a little.
“I landed teaching job. She worked as a secretary. Our lives were nothing special—well, to the outside world. We were ordinary. Maybe even a little bit boring. But we thought we lived the most exciting lives. Because we had each other.”
Cadence averted her eyes. The more he talked, the further away she felt from him. And the more she sensed his broken heart, still longing for another woman.
“The pregnancy was an accident. Her birth control decided to stop working. We weren’t being irresponsible. It was just one of those unexplainable events. So we took it as a sign that we were supposed to have a kid.” He paused. “Well, she took it as a sign. Something didn’t sit right with me about any of it.”
Silence.
“Pregnancy was great. We turned the guest bedroom into a nursery. Everything was ready. When she went into labor, it was normal. The delivery was fine until the end. I knew something was wrong when the doctor and nurses whispered to one another. They pulled the baby from her and took him somewhere. And then there was this moment of complete quiet and stillness.”
He stared off, thinking.
“Like everything moved in slow motion. Andy looked at me and said, ‘I don’t feel good. Something’s wrong,’ and then complete panic. The blood. The blood was pouring out of her. And they couldn’t stop it.”
Cadence cried quietly, surreptitiously wiping her tears so that he wouldn’t see.
“And they pushed me out of the room. Separated me from her as they tried to save her. It was futile. She died fairly quickly. I learned later that bleeding out is like falling into REM sleep. Doesn’t really hurt. You just feel extremely tired, and then everything stops.” He paused. “Well, obviously your eyes don’t move.”
More silence.
Cadence looked at Mark. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot. And vacant.
“That morning, there were two of us. About to be three. I was the only one who made it out.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
She felt ugly in her heart for the inability to compartmentalize her emotions. They were too much right now, and they swirled together in one fantastic, murky mess: anger that he kept this secret from her, sadness for his loss, heartbreak over his cruel words during their fight. She couldn’t make sense of them or what she was supposed to do. Comfort him and move on? But what about her comfort? He had marginalized her—made her feel stupid and unimportant—and she couldn’t shake it. Nor could she walk out of the bathroom and leave him to suffer alone in his grief. She was stuck and realized she’d have to play the good girlfriend tonight. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but tonight she would give to him whatever he needed.
“I should have told you I was married,” Mark said after a time. “But I could never find the right moment. And I didn’t want to relive that day all over again. I do that enough in my dreams.”
“I understand.”
He looked at her for the first time since she came into the bathroom.
“I’m sorry for minimalizing your life and your past.”
Cadence shook her head.
“I said those things in anger, and I don’t believe them. I didn’t believe them when I said them.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it, Cadence. I fell in love with you for so many reasons. You make my heart feel. You bring joy to my life. It was never just primal attraction for me, though when I saw you on the highway that afternoon, I knew I had to have you. It was a desperate feeling I hadn’t felt in so long. I went home that afternoon determined to find you. I knew no one else in the world would be able to heal my heart. It had to be you.”
Cadence listened to the words and tried to tuck them inside her heart, but they kept falling out. All she could think about were his previous words. Words like “non-history,” “blank slate,” and “easy.” A girl who means nothing. Brand new and malleable. Easy to love. Easy to train. Easy to bend and break. Those were the words she really tucked inside
her heart, and she wouldn’t soon forget them.
Tonight, though, she took Mark to bed and tried her hardest to ease his heartache. It was something she could give him because she had already taken away her heart. He didn’t know now, but he would.
Eventually.
***
Cadence didn’t bring up Andy the following morning. Mark asked if she’d like to talk about her more, but Cadence shook her head, saying blandly, “The past is the past.” Mark was startled by her statement. Nothing about it reflected the young woman he knew. Cadence was curious about everything.
She didn’t sound angry or hurt, though. She didn’t sound like anything. She just sat at the table pouring cereal and eating—going through the motions in a mechanical way. He felt her slipping into indifference. He wished she’d scream at him.
“I’m going to Carrie’s tonight to work on our English assignment,” Cadence said after a moment. “I thought I’d just spend the night with her.”
“Oh?”
“I mean, if you don’t mind.”
Mark studied her face. It was blank.
“I don’t mind at all. It’s not like you have to ask my permission.”
“Well, I know. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t.”
“Okay.”
Silence.
“Do you still wanna meet up with Dylan and Jon this weekend at that music festival?”
Cadence thought for a moment.
“You should probably just go. I don’t really fit in with them anyway. I was gonna hang out with Carrie and Michael.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. There’s a discount movie theatre on campus. I think we’re gonna see a movie.”
Mark nodded.
“I think you fit in just fine,” he said after a moment.
Cadence snorted. “Not really.”
She took her empty bowl to the sink and rinsed it. She placed it in the dishwasher, then jumped when she felt Mark behind her. He turned her around and cupped her face.
“I think you fit in just fine,” he said softly, then kissed her lips.
She let him, though her mind took her far away. It screamed at her, “You don’t belong here! You never did!”
And she was starting to believe it.
***
“Married?” Avery breathed. She was about to take a sip of her coffee when she decided to set it back on the table.
“Yeah,” Cadence replied. She took a deep breath, then pulled her hair back in a ponytail. She pulled her cardigan tighter. Why was this coffee shop always so damn cold?
“This is, like, monumental,” Avery said. She eyed Cadence carefully. “How are you doing?”
“Fine. He apologized for not telling me, and everything’s fine.”
Avery rolled her eyes. “Give me a break, okay? How are you really doing?”
Cadence rubbed her forehead. “I can get past the wife thing. I can. I mean, it was a big, fat lie, and I feel like an idiot, but I think I can forgive him for that. And it’s terrible what happened to her. I feel so sorry for Mark.”
Avery nodded.
“But he said things to me that I can’t shake. And I think they were truths about me that were never supposed to come out, but he was angry, so they came out. He said he didn’t believe them, but I don’t think that’s true.”
“What did he say?”
Cadence bit her lower lip. “He said he pursued me because I was easy. He said I don’t have a history because I’m young. That I’m a blank slate. And that’s what he wanted after everything that happened with Andy.”
Avery’s mouth dropped open. “Fucking. Asshole.”
Cadence shrugged.
“Do I need to go over there and let him have it?”
“No.”
“Because I totally will. I’ll get all up in his face and let him know what’s what.” She sat bolt upright in her seat, waiting for Cadence’s signal.
“Appreciated, but no.”
“What the fuck was going on in his brain that he would say that to you?”
Cadence squirmed in her seat. “Is it true?” she blurted.
“Huh?”
“What he said. Is it true? Am I unimportant? Is there nothing really to me because I’m young with very little experiences?”
“Are you for real right now? You got high and robbed a convenience store. You were sentenced to juvie. You had an illicit affair with your teacher. Your dad punched you in the eye. You ran away from home. I think you’ve got some experiences,” Avery said.
“Yeah, but some of that stuff hadn’t happened when Mr. Connelly started pursuing me,” Cadence argued.
“What did you just say?”
“Huh?”
“You said Mr. Connelly.”
Cadence’s eyes went wide. So did Avery’s. The girls stared at one another, silently communicating the gravity of Cadence’s slipup.
“Don’t go backwards,” Avery whispered.
“I’m afraid I already am,” Cadence whispered back. “And I’m scared. I mean nothing to him, Avery. I’m just this girl he can mold to be whatever he wants.”
“That’s not true.”
“It IS true. I’m nothing.”
“Cadence . . .”
“I have class,” Cadence said, checking the time on her cell phone.
“Screw class. You’re staying here. We’re talking about this,” Avery said, grabbing her hand. “He’s a fucking asshole right now, Cadence, but he loves you. He loves you very much. He wouldn’t be with you if he didn’t think you were special and important. He’s not that kind of guy.”
Cadence nodded. She felt she’d been doing a lot of that lately. Nodding. Silent agreement. She didn’t believe any of the words people were telling her lately, but she nodded to make them think she did.
She watched Avery’s lips move. It was as if Avery was force feeding her encouragement, but it tasted sour, and it made her want to vomit. But she kept nodding. She even crinkled her brow at one point to make it look like she was really listening. Absorbing and thinking. She let Avery talk at her all afternoon until she had to leave for work. It was instant relief leaving the table. It was relief when she climbed in her car and drove to Millie’s with the radio blaring. She wasn’t familiar with the song, but it served as a distraction. She’d take what she could get.
***
“You look kind of beat up,” Drew said. She stood in the doorway of Mark’s classroom, arms folded over her chest, head cocked in curiosity.
“Do I?” he replied, erasing his board.
“Yeah. Like you didn’t get much sleep last night. Everything okay?” She walked into the room and sat on one of the student tables.
“Just fine,” he replied.
She said nothing as she watched him pack his bag. He glanced at her and shrugged.
“Wanna try again?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.
He thought for a moment. If he told her he had a fight with his girlfriend, she’d probably stop coming into his room after work to chat. Could work to his advantage. Although, she may pry further, and there was no way he was revealing the details of their argument. He’d have to lie instead, and he didn’t want to put the effort into it.
“I have a hard time sleeping at night,” he said.
“Do you take medicine?” she asked.
“I try not to. I’m not a medicine person,” he replied. He pulled his bag over his shoulder.
“You really like to get the hell out of here right after your last class, huh?” she asked.
He smiled and nodded.
“And where are you going in such a hurry?”
He almost said, “Home to my girlfriend,” but he knew Cadence wouldn’t be there. She was spending the night with Carrie.
“Home,” he said instead.
“Are you one of those homebodies?” Drew asked.
“Sort of,” he replied.
“Well, then I really need to take
you for a drink,” she said.
Mark shook his head. “I don’t drink,” he lied.
Drew narrowed her eyes. “Yes, you do.”
Just tell her you have a girlfriend! his brain cried. But he couldn’t. She’d ask questions he wouldn’t want to answer.
“Is there a woman at home?” Drew asked.
Mark sighed. “Yes.”
“And are you fighting?”
His face shot up. Was it that obvious?
“That answers that question,” Drew said. She looked him over. “Come on. I’ll buy you that drink, and you can tell me all about it.”
No. No no no.
“Completely platonic,” she added. She licked her lips.
Bullshit.
“I’m not one for sharing,” Mark said.
“I can tell,” Drew replied, undeterred. “But you could use the advice of another female, couldn’t you? I’m great at giving advice.”
He swore he heard the translation: “I’m great at giving head.”
“It’s really okay,” Mark said. He walked with her out of the room.
“OMG! I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer! You look like shit. You’re fighting with your woman, and you have someone here who wants to help,” Drew said.
You want to destroy me, Mark thought.
“One drink, Mark. I mean, jeez. Get over yourself. You’re not that cute.”
He eyed her carefully. “One.”
***
Cadence opened the apartment door slowly. She felt like she was sneaking in, and perhaps she was. She didn’t want Mark to see or hear her, though she knew it was impossible. Their apartment was no bigger than 800 square feet. Not too many places someone could go unnoticed. But he wasn’t home. That was strange. Mark was always home around this time.
She threw her bags on the couch and walked to the bathroom. She started the shower then jumped when she heard the front door open. She stripped as fast as she could and climbed in the shower. Mark came in just as she closed the curtain.
“Where have you been all weekend?” he asked. He tried desperately to control his temper.
“I just stayed with Carrie. Didn’t you get my text?”
“What text?” he replied.
There was no text. She lied about it. She wanted, needed, to stay away from the apartment for the weekend, and she didn’t want to tell him. She wanted to scare him. And it worked.
