AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I can’t . . .” Anguish radiates from his eyes.
I take his hand in mine and place it on my pierced nipple. His Adam’s apple moves slightly, but I catch on to the action like I do everything else about him.
Is it possible to want someonetoomuch in life?
“Don’t you want me, Harvey?”
He shakes his head, and I’m not sure if it’s because he means to answer no to my question or tell me something else. “I can’t do this.”
Yes, you can.
I drop his hand, his words stinging, hurting me so much the pain can’t reach me because I’m already broken.
“I’m sorry.” He looks away, retreating from me. From us, from a happy future together.
I nod. It’s what I do best anyway.
I reach for my bra on the floor and put the piece of material back on. When I’m done, his hand closes around my wrist as I’m about to leave.
“I’m sorry. I am.”
I shake my head. I don’t have it in me to say what I feel. I can’t do this anymore. Keep putting myself out there only to have him continuously stomp over me.
I’m in pieces, I’m furious—angry,livid.I’ve tried to put myself in his shoes. To imagine what it could possibly feel liketo go through what he’s going through. Every piece of kindness has a limit, though. And I reached mine.
“Do you love me, Harv? Because I love you still.”
He looks shocked. “That’s the silliest question I’ve ever heard. You know I do.” He squeezes the hand around my wrist.
Some days I want to shake him—yell at him—let the screaming lady from my head come out and play with all of her rage.
I get ready for bed. We sleep in different bedrooms—his wish, not mine.
Then I head to my bedroom, not bothering to say goodnight to him. Even though he can transfer from his chair to his bed, I always check on him, just in case.
Tonight, I don’t check on him until one in the morning, after tossing and turning in bed.
Relief courses through me at seeing him breathe deeply. But it doesn’t decrease the loud screams I hear inside my heart, like a trapped woman banging the secured windows of my arteries.
In my dreams, he tries.
Friday morning, I shower and put on the only work suit I own. My dad bought Gia and me each a black, top-quality suit when we graduated from college.
I wear an emerald satin blouse underneath, apply a bit of makeup, and leave my hair down.
I eye my earrings—always two in each ear and my mom’s green emerald, which I wear in the piercing at the top of one ear. I remove one earring on each ear for the sake of the interview. I also take out Mom’s earring. It’s on days like these when I miss her most, when I could do with some motherly love.
She passed away from breast cancer when Gia and I were eleven years old. She underwent a few rounds of chemo before she was gone.
I push these memories aside by the time I walk to the kitchen to grab a quick snack for the road. Laughter in the backyard draws my attention.
It’s Claire.
Her laugh rings through my ears like the sound of an express train. Suddenly, my mouth is dry, and my interview isn’t to blame. I’m staring at Harvey,myHarvey, laughing with her.
The betrayal runs so deep, I look away and back again to ensure I’m not imagining things.
He barely eversmiles at me.
