AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jake.
I look to his side of the bed. It’s empty. He got up before me.
I then remember something important. Why I woke in a panic…
I was supposed to go back downstairs.
“Shit,” I breathe.
I must have gotten too damn comfortable in this bed last night. Like everything else in this family, it sucks you in with its voodoo until you’re one with it before you even notice.
I really need to get out of here. But first, I need to pee.
And then see if I can somehow creep back downstairs.
Jake might be up, but maybe Magnolia and Ruby are still sleeping. She was up late, after all.
I pull my hair up, slap on some makeup, put on something semi-work appropriate, (sans shoes) and head for the door.
I yelp as it swings open.
Jake is waiting there with two mugs of coffee. His eyebrow quirks. “You okay, babe?”
I note how babe doesn’t have the same ring for me as it did yesterday. But the disenchantment is necessary. I still feel the same—it’s time to rip ourselves apart again. This isn’t the time for a me and him. It can’t be.
Not that it ever has been. He and I have always had the worst damn timing.
I fix my face into something pleasant as he hands the mug over. “Yeah, just still waking up.”
He nods but I can tell he doesn’t completely buy it.
That’s okay. I don’t really need him to.
He adds, “Figured you’d need a little caffeine this morning.”
“Thank you.”
He stands there awkwardly, me sipping and him watching. He must sense a shift in me. Probably feels my walls coming back up.
“Hey, um…” He rubs the tension from his neck and shuts the door behind him. His voice lowers. “Can we talk a minute?”
I nod as I swallow against the coffee that’s almost too warm. Can we talk. Never a good sign. But maybe he’s on the same page as me. Maybe he knows this can’t go past this weekend either. He wants to let me down easy. “Sure,” I say.
He motions to the bed for us to sit.
I get settled and rest my back against the headboard. Draw my legs into myself and rest my coffee cup against my knees. Fight against the urge to feel sad about what’s to come.
You want this, remember? It’s necessary.
He sits closer to the foot of the bed with crossed legs and something washes over his features that I can’t put my finger on, but it doesn’t look like what I originally thought—a regretful message of parting ways. This looks more like anxiety, and it unnerves me.
“Jake,” I say, impatient. “What’s up?”
“I, um. I think I’m ready.”
“Ready?”
“To tell you what I remember. And for you to tell me what you know.”
