Page 15

I grip the edge of the seat, trying to keep my breathing steady as the car pulls up in front of Bianca’s place. This is a mistake. And I know it is. I know it is.

What should have been a simple detour to pick up Jake's friend has turned into something else entirely. I glance at him in the driver's seat, my stomach tightening. He doesn’t seem fazed, not a hint of discomfort on his face. How does he do it? How can he sit there so casually while I feel like I’m being swallowed whole?

I want to scream. I want to throw myself out of the car and walk away, but I don’t. I stay there, my fingers gripping my phone. We should be on our way to my house with Caylee right now. We should be packing for Portland tomorrow morning.

Jake’s friend, the one who called and needed a ride, steps out of the car and meets Bianca at the door.

“This wasn’t part of the plan.”

I finally speak, my voice barely above a whisper, but it’s enough. I hate how much I already feel like I’m giving in.

I should’ve said something.

I should’ve told him to turn around.

But I didn’t.

I kept my mouth shut, pretending like I could handle it.

My chest tightens, the panic creeping in slowly, then all at once.

This is not what I want. This is not where I want to be. But here I am. Stuck in this car with him and a sinking feeling that no matter what I do, nothing’s going to change.

I can feel the rage building inside me, like a fire that's been smoldering just beneath the surface, ready to consume everything in its path.

I never thought I’d be here, in this moment with him again, but now it’s all I can focus on.

The frustration is suffocating, clawing at my chest, twisting into something darker. Betrayal.

When we got to Sarah’s, I stepped into the bathroom for just a few minutes, thinking I could breathe, clear my head.

But I came back to find Jake on fucking ecstasy.

My blood boils, my hands shake, and I can't make sense of it.

How could he do this again, after everything? How could he do this to me, to us? The world around me tilts, the edges blur, and I’m left trying to process the magnitude of what he’s just done to us.

I thought something was up when I found him in her kitchen instead of waiting for me in the car, but it wasn't until he started playing fucking techno and avoiding eye contact that I knew it.

“Jake,”

I say quietly, reaching a hand out for his, “are you ready to go?”

His hand is clammy in mine, but he finally looks at me.

The evidence is there in his eyes because, sure enough, both of his pupils are blown.

“Are you high?”

I demand, dropping his hand.

“No,”

He blinks, his expression shifting so quickly it feels like whiplash. Defensive to angry, like a switch flipped inside him, and suddenly, I’m the one who’s wrong. “No, why the fuck would you ask me that?” he snaps.

Why the hell do I keep doing this? Why am I still here?

“Jesus fucking Christ. Don't act like I wasn't on that shit for a year. I know what it looks like when someone's high!”

I rise from the kitchen table and walk around to stand in front of him so I can get a better look.

“You’re wrong,”

he says like the words themselves somehow make it true, like I can't see it with my own two eyes.

I feel the anger rise in my chest, hot like the sun, burning its way through my system, but I don’t say anything. I just shake my head and walk toward the bathroom because I can’t. I’m done. Done with this, done with the lies, done with him.

The one thing I asked for was his sobriety, and the one thing I needed from him was honesty.

And now he’s sitting there, looking me straight in my fucking eyes, and lying to my face like it’s nothing, like I’m an idiot who can’t see through his bullshit.

It takes forever for me to get ahold of Kay, but if I really need a ride, she’ll come and get me. She’ll come. She always does. She just needs time to sober up.

I debate calling a taxi but then I remember I gave Jake all my cash, and I walk back into the kitchen to ask for it back.

“Hey,”

I start, my voice harder than I want it to be, so I try to keep my tone even, “I, uh, I need the cash back.”

“No,”

His eyes narrow, “fuck, just calm down, I'm not high. Let's just go get Caylee and talk about this at home.”

he pleads.

Sarah starts to laugh before slapping a hand over her mouth and walking away. I follow her and ignore Jake.

“I already know you gave him one,”

I start, but she stops me.

“I didn't give him anything,”

Her words say one thing, but she’s shaking her head yes with pity in her eyes.

I already knew, but having her confirm it shatters something inside me. I start to reach for my phone to call Kay again when suddenly, a loud crash echoes from the front of the house. What the hell was that?

Without hesitation, Sarah shoves me aside and runs down the hallway, heading straight for the kitchen, where Jake is. I don't even think before chasing after her, my heart racing as I follow.

My breath catches in my throat as I take in the chaos around him. Jake is standing over the sink with a knife in his hands, and the kitchen table is destroyed. Two legs have been kicked out from under it, and everything that was on it has slid to the floor, broken.

“I’m so stupid,”

Jake pounds his fist against the sink, the knife wobbling as he does. “I just keep fucking it up. Fucking us up.”

“Jake, stop. This isn’t helping.”

Sarah steps forward, her voice trembling.

But Jake doesn’t hear her. His breath comes in short gasps, his knuckles are white around the knife, and his eyes are on me.

“No, baby.”

I soften my voice, “You didn't ruin anything.”

His grip on the knife loosens, and I take a small step towards him, “Let’s go talk on the couch.”

He looks unsure until I take another step and hold my hand out for him. He reaches for me with the hand holding the knife, until he sees it and he drops it on the ground. I pull him to the couch and mouth I'm sorry to Sarah over my shoulder.

Jake crumples onto the couch, his head falling into his hands, and I hear the raw sound of his sobs breaking through the air. I sit on the edge and rub soothing, small circles on his back, trying to calm both of our racing hearts. His pain wraps around me, and for a moment, I forget everything else—the anger, the betrayal, the hurt.

“I’m sorry, I don't even know why I did it. It was there and she offered it and I just wanted to feel good,”

he pleads with me to understand, his head lifting enough to look over at me.

“Shhh,”

I whisper, and pull his head down to rest in my lap. I play with his hair as he continues to cry, his tears staining my pants along with my heart. Each tear follows another promise, another plea, but it all feels tangled.

“I’ll never do it again,”

he whispers between sobs. “You, Caylee, Damian... you’re my world. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Please... don’t leave me.”

Taking out my phone and Jake’s, I text Caylee’s mom, asking if we can swing by in the morning to pick her up. I follow it with a text to my mom asking her if she would mind watching Damian tonight and blaming it on a flat tire. It’s way too late, and there’s no way I’m letting him near the kids tonight.

When the tears finally subside, Jake lifts his head, his eyes red and puffy. He sits up straight, his voice quiet yet steady as he starts telling me about the future he sees- the same conversation we had at the beach.

When I wake up in the morning, having fallen asleep sometime after 4 AM, I stretch out on the couch alone and see Jake asleep in the chair beside me.

It only takes a minute to decide what I'm going to do.

He gave me a place to sleep when I had none. He helped me get clean. He’s the reason I have my son. He’s put up with my mood swings and impulsive decisions every time I'm upset with him. I can’t walk away from him now, not when he needs me the most. He’s given me everything, and he deserves that in return.

“Hey,”

he says, his voice rough from sleep.

“How are you feeling?”

I ask tentatively, afraid to set him off again.

“I feel fine. My neck hurts a bit from sleeping in this chair, but otherwise I'm great.”

He smiles before looking at his phone and seeing the time.

“Shit. Shit!”

he looks back at me with wide eyes.

“I texted Caylee’s mom from your phone last night, we can pick her up at 9 AM. And my mom kept Damian last night. As soon as we get Caylee, we’ll go get him and head out.”

“We don't have a lot of time to talk before we’ll have the kids,”

he begins, but I don't let him finish as I stand, walking over to him, and settling onto his lap.

“I love you, and you love me; everything else can be figured out. Let’s get the kids and go. I think we could both use a few days away from here.”

I kiss him on the nose before standing up and getting ready to go.

Portland is a hit. First, we take the kids to the zoo, spending hours wandering the exhibits. Jake carries Damian on his shoulders, while Caylee skips between us, her small hands wrapped around both of ours. It’s almost picture-perfect.

Jake’s doing a good job of hiding everything from the kids, but not from me. I see the tension in his jaw, the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. The fear in his gaze when he looks at me when the kids aren't watching.

We pause in front of the lion exhibit, the kids excitedly pressing their faces against the glass, and Jake steps back, standing a step behind us with his hands in his pockets.

I reach out, my fingers lightly graze his arm, and he flinches slightly. When he turns to me, his smile is strained, and he notices me dissecting it. “Everything’s fine,”

he says, but I know better.

“Jake,”

I whisper, leaning in closer, “everything really is fine. I’m not going anywhere.”

I pull his hand from his side, placing it above my heart, and lean my forehead against his.

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and leans into me. His shoulders relax, and when he opens his eyes again, they’re clearer than they were moments ago. His hand lifts to my cheek, and his thumb caresses my skin. “I love you, Elle.”

“I love you, too.”

How many more chances will I give him? I love him, but I'm tired.

-elle