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Authors: Jennifer Foor

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BOOK: Losing Him
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“Okay!”

I didn’t want to get too overexcited, considering that he could be telling Jacob a lie to make him feel better. God knows I lied to people that I loved in the past. A parent would do anything for their child, even if it’s stretching the truth to keep them from being sad.

I waited a couple minutes before sitting up and pretending that I’d been sleeping. “How long did I sleep?”

“About two hours. We’re almost there.”

I looked in the backseat. “You need to get a bath as soon as we get to Nana’s house.” As soon as I said it I realized that Nana would never be there again to greet us at the door. She’d never spoil Jacob, her only grandson, with hundreds of kisses. She wouldn’t see him grown up to be a handsome man. She was gone.

I covered my face and started to sob. A warm hand touched my shoulder briefly and then pulled away. “Jacob, I’ll help you get your bath and get settled. Your mom has some things to do when we get there.”

I reached for his hand, but he lifted it and put it on the steering wheel, clenching his jaw to prevent saying something he would regret. I looked out the passenger side window, trying to hide the pain of rejection in my eyes. At least he was there with me. That’s what I needed. It had to be enough.

When Jessie pulled up at my mother’s house, it took my breath away. My chest felt heavy and I could feel my heart pounding at a rapid rate. I tucked my head between my knees and tried to regain composure. “Jess, I can’t breathe.”

He turned off the car and reached over, touching my back and holding his hand there. “It’s just anxiety. You knew this was going to be hard. That’s why I came. You’re in no condition to go through the motions of burying your mom and being able to take care of yourself and Jacob. I’ll carry everything inside. You just take a couple minutes and come in when you’re ready.”

Jessie and Jacob climbed out of the car and carried their bags with them, leaving me sitting in my mother’s dark driveway all alone. I was so depressed that I couldn’t look out into the yard. I didn’t want to think about all the times that she’d been there waiting for us. I didn’t want to think about her hugging me and telling me that someday I would be happy. It was too bad she never got to see that day.

My tears flooded out of my eyes and I gave up trying to hold them in. I wanted my mother back. I wanted her to be able to see that I wasn’t just a selfish bitch that hurt people to get what I wanted.

More than anything, I wanted a do-over of the last ten years of my life. There was so much that I would have done differently. I could have made her proud of me. Instead, I fell in love with the wrong guy and let that love for him destroy all the potential that I ever had of being a good person. I had no friends, my boyfriend hated me and my mother was dead.

How much worse could my life get?

 

 

 

Chapter 2

Jessie

 

What kind of person would I be if I wasn’t there for her during the lowest time of her life? She was the mother of my child and, as much as I was pissed at her, I still cared.

When she came into my life, walking into my parent’s Bed and Breakfast, I saw a girl who was running and afraid. It was in my nature to reach out and do whatever I could to help her. She was beautiful and so fragile.

How was I supposed to know how damaged she was?

I fell in love with her faster than I’d fallen for any another woman. Each day she smiled more and as I prepared to make a life for myself, I began wondering if I could make a spot for her in it. We were so happy, at first, feeling free and being together.

When I found out she was having my baby, nothing could have made me happier. We were going to be a family. I went out and bought a ring, trying to come up with the best time to pop the question. It was all going to be perfect.

She told me the truth on the night I was asking her to marry me. I promised to hear her out, but it was too much to take. Maybe I shouldn’t have said the things that I said to her that night. Maybe I should have slept on it all.

She left immediately, stating that she’d give me time.

I miss those days; the days before I knew who she really was and why she’d really come into my life.

It wasn’t just the fact that she’d lied. She’d held life altering information from me.  I didn’t know about my father. My aunt and uncle were the people who raised me after my mother passed away. I guess I was just too young to remember everything.

When I heard from Heather again, she’d been to Kentucky and was held hostage in some mansion that belonged to her ex boyfriend’s family. My biological father lost his life that day. I can’t say that he didn’t have it coming. My family is pretty sure that he was involved in my mother’s death.

Heather had a broken arm when she arrived on my doorstep and a broken heart when I sent her packing.

Since she had no place to go, my parent’s put her up in one of their rentals in town. She started working as a waitress while taking night classes to finish her nursing hours. I missed out on the first few months of her pregnancy, because I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be a part of raising a child with her. I hated her and her lies.

It was my mother that reached out to me, begging me to not give up on my own child. Against my better judgment, I forced myself to let her back into my life. We went to the doctor’s appointments together and started preparing my place for our son’s home coming. Heather moved back in during her eighth month of pregnancy.

For the most part, we appeared to be happy. On the inside I had built up this wall that kept her out of my heart. She’d lied before and she’d do it again. I was so sure of it.

Jacob Nicholas was born on a Tuesday. He came out with a head full of hair and big gray eyes. I loved him from that very moment.  I named him after my uncle that had been the only father I’d ever known. Heather argued with me about the name, but wouldn’t tell me the reason. At the end of the day, I won out on the argument.

We were filled with excitement and hope, but unfortunately, Heather’s postpartum depression got the best of her. Since I already had so much pent up animosity towards her, it only took a couple of rough days to send me over the edge.

 

I went out one night and hooked up with an old classmate. I knew what I was doing. It was an asshole move, except I didn’t care. I was so pissed at her; so hurt that she could destroy me and expect me to forgive her. I wanted her to pay, even if it meant that I’d have to share custody instead of living with my son.

When I finally went home, three days later, all I wanted to do was make her feel the pain that I felt when she broke my heart, so I told her what I did.

At first she got really quiet and retreated to our bedroom. When I went to check on her moments later, she was in a ball in the corner of the room, sobbing so hard that I was wondering if she could catch her breath at all.

I’d done what I set out to do, but also, I’d set in motion a life that would never be fixable.

I thought hurting her would make me feel better. Instead, it made me feel worse. Then of course, I put up a stronger wall. It actually pissed me off that she was willing to forgive what I’d done. I wondered if she was forgiving me, so I would forgive her.

For the past five years, our on again off again relationship was like dangling off a cliff on one toe. It was no longer about forgiveness, it was about letting go of the past.

Apparently, Heather had her own demons to tend to, but fixing me was her favorite thing to do. She wanted me to be this perfect guy and I just couldn’t handle it.

Her constant phone calls annoyed me so much that I avoided them. I was finally getting her out of my system and I felt okay with that decision.

Still, when I heard that her mother died, I knew she couldn’t handle it on her own. She was already too broken to manage it by herself, so I had my dad fill in for me at the Bed and Breakfast, packed a bag and showed up in her driveway. It was the right thing to do.

The ride was uncomfortable. We had been split up for a good six months this time. I’d kept myself busy at work and only talked to her when I picked up Jacob. I was pretty positive that she didn’t know how to take me just showing up like I did. Then of course, Jacob wanted to know if I still loved his mother. It was a question that I asked myself everyday.

I still cared about Heather, but as far as loving her, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to use those words again. Too much time had passed. Too much hurt.

I could tell she was a wreck when we got to her moms. That woman did everything for her daughter. I could only imagine how hard it was for Heather to lose the one adult that loved her unconditionally. It had to be devastating.

I’d gotten Jacob situated in the guest room, after letting him get a quick shower. When I noticed that Heather hadn’t comeback inside, I went out looking for her.

The poor woman was still in a ball, in the passenger seat of the car. I approached the window, noticing that she was too busy crying to have noticed me standing there.

She jumped, startled, as I opened the door and offered my hand to her. “Why don’t you come inside?”

“I don’t think I can,” She sobbed. “It hurts so much, Jessie. I just want her back. I miss her so much.”

“I know, babe. Come one. I’ll help you.” I reached in the car and came out with Heather rested against my shoulder. With my arm around her, I walked her into the house where her mother had raised her. I couldn’t be positive, but I think she kept her eyes closed until we walked into her old room. When I closed the door behind us, she wrapped her arms around me and I didn’t pull away. I held her close. “Jacob’s in the spare room. I brought your clothes in here already. Is there anything else you need?”

She looked up at me with swollen eyes. “Don’t leave.”

“I told you that I’m staying with you the whole time to take care of Jacob.”

Heather shook her head, while her bottom lip quivered. “No. Stay with me tonight. Please, just hold me until I fall asleep. I can go and talk to the pastor in the morning. I just can’t do it tonight. I don’t want to be alone.”

Her head was pressed against my chest again. I felt so sorry for her, but kept my guard up. “I’ll stay in here until you fall asleep, but nothing has changed between us. We can’t be together, Heather.”

She nodded, agreeing with my terms. “Okay.”

I could tell she was sad about it, but too upset to argue with me. I was staying with her, which was exactly what she wanted me to do.

I held Heather in my arms, the whole time wishing that there was something I could say to make the pain go away. As much as I pretended to hate her guts, I still hated that she was torn up like she was. The problem was that Heather fed on false hope. I could say one thing and she would think it meant so much more.

It took her about an hour to stop sniffling and fall asleep. After tucking her in, I snuck out of the room and looked for the number to the funeral home. I wasn’t sure if they were expecting her to make an appearance, but it was too late for her to go over there anyway. I wasn’t surprised when the machine came on and it said that they were closed and would reopen in the morning. 

I shook my head and hung up, thinking about Heather beating on their door and begging to go in and see her mother in her casket a day early. That woman made me crazy. I needed to help her through this and move on. Being with Heather was nothing but a bad decision that I didn’t want to make again.

After checking on both of them, I headed into the living room and pulled a blanket off of the back of the couch. There was no need for me to find the remote, because my ass was too tired to stay awake. It was going to be a long week and I needed to be rested to tolerate it all.

 

 

Chapter 3

Heather

 

I woke up alone in my room, knowing that Jessie had done exactly what he said he was going to do. He’d waited until I’d fallen asleep to leave me in my room alone.

I don’t know why I even got my hopes up when clearly he was done being with me that way. Jessie was doing his fatherly duty and that was all it was. He wasn’t trying to get into my good graces. I don’t even think he cared about me. He was just here to make sure I remembered to feed and bathe our son, like I would forget that kind of stuff.

It was still dark outside, but the clock read five in the morning, so I decided to stay awake. It wasn’t like I was going to be able to rest for a few more hours with all that was on my mind.

Since my mother had been sick for a long time, she’d made all of her own arrangements, so all I needed to do was finalize them. Not only had she done that, but she’d marked certain items in her house for who she wanted to have them. It was disturbing, at first, when I picked up a vase and someone’s name was on a sticker on the bottom. I was in shock, but the reality of it hit me hard. My mother knew she was dying, and as much as she tried to pretend everything was going to be fine, she knew her time was running out.

It took a while for me to be able to accept it. She sat me down and explained that she didn’t want me to have to do anything when she was gone. She’d wanted me to keep the house, hoping that one day I would raise Jacob in it, or use the money to get a place close to where we lived now. The only thing holding me back from moving was Jessie.

I found him on the couch, sprawled out with his leg on the floor. The blanket had fallen off and he was snoring loudly, with his mouth open. It should have been annoying, but after being without him, I missed it. 

I walked over and picked up the covers, spreading them evenly over his body. He stirred and opened his eyes, seeing me standing there. “What time is it?”

“It’s five. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to cover you back up.”

He closed his eyes again. “Thanks, babe.”

I knew he was half asleep, but it still gave me butterflies. It was good to smile about something in the midst of being in so much emotional distress. My day was going to be long and awful. It wasn’t just about burying my mother. It wasn’t just about having to explain to my son that heaven isn’t a place that we can visit, or seeing my mother’s friends from church and work and having to hear their stories about her. It was all of that bunched together. I suppose that people get through it every day. My circumstance isn’t special, but she was all I had as far as support.

BOOK: Losing Him
4.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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