Page 9

“It’s my birthday, why can't you just be fucking happy and celebrate with us?”

Jake asks after we get Caylee situated in her room. We’ve been back from California for a week now, and Jake invited some friends over for his birthday tonight.

“I’d celebrate with you if Caylee wasn't fucking here,”

I throw my arms up and start to leave the bedroom before Jake grabs me by the arm and spins me around again.

“What's your problem? I can't leave now?”

I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, watching him.

“It wasn't even supposed to be my night with her but her mom needed a babysitter, what was I supposed to say?”

He’s acting like I'm angry for no reason.

“I don't know, Jake, how about no because you're going to be rolling your ass off in about 15 minutes!”

I shout, getting more frustrated as he continues to try to rationalize the fact that we have an apartment full of people on drugs with his 5-year-old daughter here now.

There are so many people here, I decided to wait on taking mine until I saw what they were going to be like. You can never really tell what the high will be like, and I only knew two of his friends here tonight, plus I have social anxiety and I don't like new people. Now, I'm thankful as fuck because Caylee showed up about ten minutes ago unannounced, and Jake was minutes away from his high.

“Look, I'm never going to be the kind of man who turns down time with his daughter,”

he starts, but I cut him off. Why the fuck does he think that's what this is about?

“Jake, listen to me, there won't be a single sober person here who can take care of Caylee in 15 minutes. I understand you already had plans, and you had already taken the pills, but this isn't safe.”

I plead with him to understand as I walk up to him and cup his face.

I look into his eyes and see his pupils dilating. I sigh before taking a step back, “Just go out there and have fun. I’ll sit with Caylee and help her with whatever she needs tonight.”

I don't want to ruin his high, but I can't ‘celebrate’ with Caylee here, just like I wouldn't go see Damian high or even coming down from one.

I hear Jake complaining to his friends about me ruining his birthday as I walk into Caylee's room and shut the door. I stand there for a minute, resting my back against the door, before Caylee turns around and smiles at me.

“Hey, Bug, you wanna play Barbies with me?”

She has a wall full of toys and we spend an hour playing, building castles with blocks, racing toy cars, and creating whole lives for her Barbies and dolls. She's completely absorbed in it, laughing the whole time before she says she’s hungry, so I bribe her with a popsicle after dinner if she stays in her room.

When I go out, everyone stops what they're doing to watch me. The room goes quiet as I heat up some chicken nuggets, and I try to ignore their eyes on me. Jake and Bianca act like I’m not the one who sold them the pills they took at Blackout.

I give Caylee a bath after she gets popsicle all over herself, sneaking her in and out of the bathroom like a game so she doesn't see her dad and want to go to him. I tuck her into bed before lying on the floor next to her, and fall asleep curled up in her little blanket to cover what I can.

Sometime later, I’m woken up by Jake sliding in next to me, his hand immediately slipping under my shorts and rubbing my clit. I try to bat his hand away and whisper, “Not in here.”

But he doesn't hear me. He shoves a finger in and hisses under his breath.

“Jake,”

I try again, this time grabbing his face so I can look him in the eyes, “Not in here. Let's go to our room.”

“You’re not still mad at me?”

he asks while he continues to pump his finger into my pussy before adding a second one and curling them. I hate that it feels so good.

I shake my head no, lying so I can get him to focus enough to hear me, and reach for his face again when he looks down to watch as his hand moves beneath my shorts.

“Our room,”

I say again, and this time he listens.

“I'm eating your pussy tonight,”

he says as he slides his hand out of my shorts, standing up and hauling me off the floor into his arms, carrying me to the bedroom.

His friends are still in the living room and they laugh as he storms into our room and slams the door shut behind us. I waste no time wiggling out of his arms and taking a step away from him. He’s so high he thinks I'm playing a game with him, so he starts to follow me step for step with a grin on his face.

“No.”

I say forcefully, “Jake, I’m not in the mood after the way you spoke to me earlier.”

“I was just knuckle deep in your pussy, Elle, you can't tell me you aren't wet right now.”

He says, laughing.

“That is not the point.”

I stop moving backwards, standing my ground.

“So, you dragged me in here to continue to be a buzz kill and fight?”

he asks, looking confused.

“No, you literally carried me in here.”

I throw my hands up in the air, wishing I could scream at him, but I don't want to wake Caylee up.

“Yeah, after you told me to,”

his voice raises with every syllable.

“No. After I pointed out we were in your daughter's room, on the floor, right fucking next to her sleeping.”

“Don't you dare judge me!”

he snaps at me as he starts to move towards me, and I look up at him with wide, shocked eyes and move to the left.

“You’ve been judging me all night, and I'm sick of it,”

he shouts now, loud enough that I know his friends can hear him over the music. “You can't sit there all high and mighty when I know you. You left your son so you could get high, so don't you dare judge me.”

My mouth drops open, his words hitting me like a physical blow. I see it—the second his words hit him too. I watch the way his eyes close in shame, how his head lowers as if what he’s just said is too much for him to bear. But it doesn’t change anything. The damage is done.

They always say the truth hurts, but it feels like he just shoved a knife into my chest.

“Wow,”

I whisper, moving slowly, each step heavier than the last, and sit on the bed. My mind races, my heart shattering, but all I can do is sit there, trying to breathe, trying to process the pain.

“Shit. I’m sorry, Elle. I didn't mean that.”

He comes over and drops to his knees in front of me, grabbing my face with both hands. His bloodshot eyes searching mine, “I’m so sorry.”

Tears start to roll down my face as my body trembles, but I shake my head and say nothing. He’s right. I did give up custody of my son, but I have never and would never do drugs around him or any kid for that matter.

Fuck him. I’m not perfect. He knew that, and he still chose to stab his words through my heart.

I grab at his hands, my nails digging into his calloused skin, desperate for an escape. That soft touch turns to a fist before he mutters a curse, storms over, and with a wide swing, swipes everything off the top of the dresser onto the floor, making me flinch. His eyes pierce through me, one final blow before he storms through the door, slamming it behind him.

I curl up on the bed as I cry. I’ve never seen him so mad, never felt the sting of sharp words hurled at me from his lips. I lay there awake until the sun rises, worried I'll fall asleep and he'll climb into bed with me. But he doesn't.

I don't see him until I hear Caylee wake up a couple hours later and she comes into the room with her stuffed monkey. Jake trails behind her, looking awful. He stands in the doorway, leaning a shoulder against it as Caylee comes up to the bed and asks me if I want to eat breakfast with her.

I drag my tired body out of bed and follow behind her, pausing as Jake steps off the doorframe and places a soft hand on my arm, “I’m sorry. Can we talk about it after I drop Caylee off after work today?”

he asks, his voice quiet, remorseful. I watch as he shifts, eyes full of regret.

“Okay. After work.”

I nod, the words coming out soft.

After work never comes.