“Jules,” he calls, but I don’t look at him. “I’m sorry.”
He’s not as sorry as I feel. The last I remember of my family, we were all happy. They’ve always been uppity, thinking that people who weren’t in the same class as them, were below them, but I always ignored their beliefs. There was nothing I would have been able to say to change their minds, so I just learned to live with it, although I never felt the same way. What Theo said about them demanding I not see him doesn’t surprise me, but disowning me and not caring enough to visit me while I was in a coma… I just can’t picture them doing something so heinous. So hateful. And now that I’m awake, they still refuse to acknowledge me.
It hurts so much that they abandoned me that it feels like there’s a physical wound in my chest. Like if I were to look down, there would a huge mess of blood covering my nightgown over my heart. I miss my parents, but I miss Teresa the most. She was my best friend for years after Melanie died.
Again, I feel lost and alone.
Gathering my inner strength and courage, I wipe my eyes and bring my gaze back to Theo.
“Could I….” I look down at the phone in his lap. “Could I use that… to call them myself?”
He glances down at the phone for a moment, looking undecided. My heart plummets at him refusing my request. I could ask one of the nurses to use the phone in the room, but I don’t have my parents’ number.
When he brings his head back up, his jaw is tense, but there’s an underlying sadness in his eyes.
“I just don’t want you to be hurt if they don’t answer or refuse to talk to you.”
His words send a shard of pain to my already battered heart. I steel myself against the ache. This is something I need to do.
“I know.” I sniff. “And… thank you. But I-I want to try it once. Maybe….” I squeeze my eyes shut and swallow thickly. “Maybe if they hear my v-voice, they’ll want to… talk.”
Again, indecision wars in his eyes, but after a moment, he nods. He fiddles with the slim device, then gets up from the chair and approaches the bed slowly. I appreciate his reluctance to scare me.
Holding out the phone, he points to the screen. “Press that button and it’ll connect you.”
I grab it with a shaky hand and look down at the screen.
Rozero is displayed across the screen with a number beneath it. I repeat the number in my head several times, hoping that I’ll memorize it for later.
I send up a silent prayer, begging God to let them answer, then press the green phone icon and bring it to my ear. It rings once, twice, three times. Over and over it rings, and each time it does, my hopes die a little more, and it feels like a part of me dies with them.
An electronic voice comes across the line telling me the person isn’t available. It repeats the phone number, then a human voice says Rozero. I close my eyes because the voice is male, and I know it’s my father’s. A tear leaks down my cheek when the beep sounds, indicating it’s time to leave a message. Several seconds pass before I open my mouth to speak.
“Mom, Dad?” I croak because I’m still crying. I clear my throat and try again. “It’s me. Jules.” I sniff and wipe my nose with my hand. “I miss you both.” A choked sob leaves my lips. “P-please please call me. My number is…” I look to Theo and he rattles off a number. After I repeat it, I whisper brokenly, “I love you.”
I pull the phone away from my ear and lie back in bed, blindly reaching out to hand it to Theo. He takes it, but doesn’t move away. I can see him out of the corner of my eye as more silent tears slide down my face. I look up at him and see sadness still in his eyes. My back stiffens, and I lie rigid as his hand comes toward my face.
“Jules,” he whispers.
His finger slides along my cheek and he wipes away my tears. I don’t want him to touch me, but I’m too heartbroken and tired to move away. I close my eyes and will him to stop with my mind, but he stays put, slowly brushing away my tears until I cry myself to sleep.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Luca
I FEEL LIKE A FUCKING creepy stalker, but it’s the only way. I’m a selfish bastard, and I know it. I should be strung up by my toes, lashed repeatedly, then have bleach poured on the open wounds. Fuckin’ crazy, right? What I’m doing is insane, so I figure it fits.
Those thoughts don’t stop me though. I waited two weeks before my will crumbled to dust. Two weeks of beating the shit out of the bag. Two weeks of running until I had fucking blisters. Two weeks of self-loathing that did not one bit of good.
Those two weeks were absolute torture of the worst kind, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
So, here I am, creepily walking the halls of General.
I come to a stop when I reach Jules’s room. Taking a deep breath, I look around the doorframe, and in the soft light over her bed see she’s asleep, just as I hoped. That’s why I waited until midnight to come. I didn’t want to take the chance of her seeing me again, because last time didn’t go so well, with damn good reason. If it wasn’t for the fact that I don’t want one of the nurses to see me, I’d be pissed their midnight staff was so lax. God only knows what asshole could come in here and hurt any of the patients. My lip curls when I lump myself in that category.
I stop only a few feet inside the doorway and lean my shoulder against the wall, opting to keep my distance in case she wakes up, so I can slip out of the room before she sees me.
After avoiding my parents for a week, Mom finally pinned me down at home. Her eyes were sad when she looked at me, and it tore my heart to shreds. Shame eats at me anytime I look at her, because I know Dad told her what Theo said I did. I don’t see how she could look at me without disgust. Fuck knows I’m disgusted with myself. How in the hell could I do that to Theo? Even more important, how in the hell could I hurt Jules? My temper may be hot and volatile at times, and I’ve used it against people, but they were always deserving of my wrath. It was to protect family, myself, or someone I cared about. My anger has never controlled me. I’ve always controlled it.
Through Mom, I learned that Jules doesn’t remember her time with Theo or me attacking her. Mom offered that info on her own, without me asking. I don’t know why she told me; maybe she saw the guilt eating away at me. Regardless, I sure as fuck don’t deserve any updates, but I’m still screwed in the head enough to be grateful she gave it.
Even though Jules may not remember me or what I did to her, her mind obviously knew enough to warn her away from me. Self-preservation at its finest. I’m glad her subconscious told her I was a danger. After what I did, she should be afraid. Not that I would hurt her now, even the thought brings bile to my throat and makes me want to ram my head into a brick wall. Even so, if I was capable of it before, there’s no reason for her to think I wouldn’t do it again.
Mom also informed me that Jules is doing good. Better than the doctors expected after her being in a coma for so long. She’s going home soon. To Theo’s home, that is.
I stiffen when Jules moves. At first, I think she’s waking up, but when she moans in her sleep, I know she’s just dreaming. I have to force myself to stay against the wall instead of going to her. I wish so fucking much I could rub out the wrinkle I know is between her eyes. Or whisper soothing words. Or crawl onto that narrow bed and hold her in my arms.
She moans again, and it sounds pained. I dig the blunt tips of my nails into my palms, hoping the pain will mask the ache in my chest that her moans caused.