We lay there for a few minutes before he rolls off of me. I instantly miss the fullness of him inside my body. He helps me off the floor and pulls me close, wrapping his arms around me tightly before kissing me deeply.
“You’re a pain in my ass sometimes, but damn, when my wildcat comes out, it’s worth every second.” I cock my brow at him, not quite understanding at first, and frown slightly when he laughs loudly. “Dee, look around.” I pull my eyes from his and look around his room. The sheets are on the floor, the mattress is slightly hanging off his massive bed, nightstand over-turned, and his lamp is in pieces on the floor.
“Oh my God! How do we end up doing this every time?” I bury my head in his chest, enjoying the feel of his laughter rumbling against my face.
****
I should have known better to think that I could be happy. Happiness and love just aren’t something that is meant for me. It was stupid of me to think that I could trust that foreign feeling of pure happiness, trust and love I felt that night and the following days when I was wrapped tight in Beck’s arms.
All that happiness that I had been feeling died a quick death, when a week later, Izzy’s crazy ass ex-husband showed up at my house. Not only did he almost kill Greg, but if Izzy hadn’t taken control of the situation, I have no doubt in my mind that she and I wouldn’t have made it. The hope, the joy, and the belief that I could do this died that day, and it didn’t matter what I told myself, what Beck told me. Nothing was able to shake me from the dark hole my mind seemed to run to.
I was lost. I was afraid. And worst of all, I was alone because I pushed the greatest thing to ever happen to me away when I let my fear take control. The worst part, next to losing Beck, was that I couldn’t even pull myself back in. I didn’t want to pull myself back in. Darkness had become my best friend, and everything bright and happy just seemed to vanish.
Time turned into an endless cycle of gray. I went through the motions, and acted like everything was okay when everyone was around, but the second I was alone, and the webs of my depression weaved their way around me in a cocoon tight enough to suffocate me, the only thing I wanted was for it to all just stop. I wanted the end, and each morning when I woke up and realized I hadn’t gotten it, I slipped a little deeper.
And I had no one to blame but myself.
Almost Two Years Later
“You’re turning into the old cat lady on the street.” Coop laughs, picking up one of the kittens that appeared on my porch one day a few months ago. “Which one is this? Pussy or Trouble? You know, it’s basically the same damn thing. Pussy is trouble, and trouble always comes from pussy.” He laughs at his own joke, but I stay silent. I’m always fucking silent these days.
“Yup. You want a beer before we head out?” He just looks at me, so I shrug and head over to the fridge, snagging us both bottles. When I hand him his beer, he’s looking at me as if I’ve grown two heads, not exactly a look I’m used to being on the receiving end of.
“You feeling okay? I know it’s been a rough run the last year or so, but drinking before lunch? Not exactly a normal Mr. Perfect move there, Beck.” My skin feels like it’s too tight as he looks at me with his worried eyes. Jesus, when did I become this guy? Hell, I know exactly when. I just don’t know what to do about it.
“I’m fine… just have a lot on my mind right now.” He looks at me for a couple more beats before shaking his head and looking out the garage door. I busy myself with cleaning up the tools from my latest woodwork project, cleaning off my worktable, and sweeping up the sawdust. I should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to let this go. I know they all worry about me. I see the way that they watch me, waiting for me to crack, or maybe, waiting for me to explode. At this point, I’m pretty sure both are options.