Looking at me, he asks, “For what?”
“Everything.” I barely get the words out when I feel the tightening in my throat. I’m not really good at expressing how I feel, but I wish I could because everything Jase has done for me this past week and a half has been beyond anything anyone has ever done for me. The compassion and love he gives me every day means the world to me.
“Sweetie, I feel like I haven’t done nearly enough,” he says. But he has. He couldn’t have done anything more.
I shake my head and start to cry. He knows me well enough that no words are even needed. He pulls me in, and we hold each other tightly. I press my head into his chest, and the tears keep coming. Jase combs his hand through my hair while I cling to him.
“You keep the key to my place, okay. Come over anytime you need, even if it’s the middle of the night.”
Nodding my head, I pull back and look into his eyes. I lift up on my toes and give him a quick kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he responds as he opens the door. “Text me tonight when you get home.”
“Okay.” Shutting the door behind him, I walk back to get my laundry started and to start reading for one of my classes.
?????
As soon as I get into my car, I pull out my phone and text Jase to let him know that work was fine, and I am heading home. Kimber had classes all afternoon, so I didn’t see her before I left for work, but I know she will be there when I get home.
Roxy is starting to get a little concerned about me. She keeps asking me questions and wanting to make sure everything is all right. I try assuring her that everything’s fine, but I know she doesn’t believe me. I can’t blame her really. Just like at school, I keep fearing that Jack is going to walk through the doors at work. Every time the little bell over the door rings, the anxiety builds in my stomach, and I know Roxy notices.
Pulling up to the house, I see Kimber’s car out front. I didn’t tell her I was coming home today. Walking inside, I make my way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before I go to my room. I see Kimber sitting at the bar when I enter.
Looking up at me, she says, “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming back today.”
“Yeah,” is all I manage to say as I open the fridge and grab a water. The silence is very awkward, and I just want to go to my room and not deal with this tension between us. “Well, I’m really tired, so I’m going to head to bed.”
“Yeah, okay,” she says quietly.
I really hate that things feel so strained between us, but I am not sure what to say to her. She knows I’m lying to her, and I feel bad for that but not bad enough to tell her the truth.
I brush my teeth and slip on some sleep shorts and a tank top before taking my sleeping pill that the doctor prescribed to me. Since I started taking them, I haven’t had any more extreme nightmares. I lie down in bed and grab my phone off the nightstand to text Jase one more time. I’ve gotten used to sleeping with him in the same bed, so lying here alone feels strange, almost scary. I’ve been clinging to Jase as my life support lately, and not having him here with me makes me wish I was back in his bed, in his arms—not alone.
Goodnight. I miss U.
Miss U too. Did U see Kimber?
Yeah. Didn’t really say much. It’s awkward.
I’m sorry, sweetie. Hopefully it will get better and things will get less weird for you guys.
Maybe. Is Mark with you?
Yeah.
Tell him I said HI. Love you guys.
We love you too.
?????
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2 weeks later
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Things are still tense with Kimber. We hardly even talk anymore aside from the civil greetings when passing by. I keep apologizing, but she is still mad at me. I wish we could move past this and go back to the way it used to be. But I’m beginning to think that the way it was is the way it will never be. Things are starting to get a little more comfortable at work. Roxy has never mentioned Jack again since that first night back. I’ve been having issues with being alone at night, so I have been spending a few nights a week with Jase. Either he comes over or I go to his apartment. Once I’m asleep, it’s pretty restless. Lying in the dark, waiting for sleep to come, is the hardest part. Every time I close my eyes I am back in the alley, on the ground, with him.
Ms. Emerson, my dance instructor, has been making my life hell lately. I never miss a class; in fact, I have been clocking in a lot of after hours studio time. My moves are flawless, but she is on me about feeling the dance. She keeps telling me that she’s watching a perfect dancer, but I’m dead. There is nothing behind my movements. The problem is, I don’t know how to fix that because frankly, I feel like I am wasting away. But when I dance, it’s the only time my mind feels free of the pain that is constantly consuming it.
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4 weeks later