A Finished Puzzle (Sequel to 'My Missing Piece')

The Ugly Truth

"Michael I-" Gavin started to speak, but I held up my hand to stop him. "No it's fine. I get it," I sighed. "I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it and I wish I could take it back," Gavin stampeded out his words, a look of pure terror on his face. "I agree with you anyways," I said and stood up. "Where are you going?" Gavin asked as he stood up too. "The backyard. I need some fresh air," my voice came out ice cold. I walked passed Gavin and through the door to the backyard, closing it behind me. I took a deep breath and sat down on the concrete patio. Words hardly ever come out of anyone's mouth that isn't true when someone it arguing. Gavin probably meant that. He meant every single bad thing he's ever said about you. You are a worthless piece of shit and he only married you for the hell of it. I felt tears form in my eyes as I pulled my knees close to my chest and tucked my head in them. I shouldn't have been born. It would've been a burden lifted off any and everyone who has even spoken to me. Gavin could love a happy life with someone who wasn't a pathetic, depressing loser. I rubbed my eyes with the sleeves of my jacket. Look at you. You can't even take a fucking insult without crying. Pathetic.

I sighed, wiping my eyes again. I stood up and ran a hand through my hair. I walked back towards the door and stepped inside. Gavin was sitting in the floor in the hallway, not looking up. I walked up to him. "Get up," I ordered. "What?" He slowly looked up at me. "I said get up," I held my hand out towards Gavin. He cautiously took it and let me lift him up. "Did you mean it?" I asked him. He looked me in the eyes, "Not a lick of it." I stepped towards him and wrapped my arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around my waist. "I'm so sorry. You are not useless. I couldn't live without you," Gavin muttered into my shoulder. "I forgive you," I muttered back. "You're the love of my life, Micoo," Gavin planted a kiss on my cheek. "And you're mine," I said with a slight smile. "Let me patch you up," Gavin pleaded, pushing hair off my forehead. I nodded and let him drag me into the bathroom. He patched up my wrist, putting on antibiotic ointment along with a bandage. I really just gave up caring if he knew or not. Gavin and I went into the bedroom when he was done. We sat on the bed in silence for a while.  "So is this like... A coping mechanism?" He questioned, looking at me. I was looking at the bed beneath us, "I guess." "It's not a very good one," Gavin almost whispered. I just nodded. "Wait I just- I have something for you," he said. Gavin jumped off the bed and went over to the closet.

I watched him reach into a box in the far left corner of our closet and pull out a book. He held it close to his chest as he came back and sat on the bed again. "This was my journal from right before I moved in with Geoff to when you came to work," Gavin explained without looking up. He looked at me and held the book out to me, "It's not pretty and my handwriting is scribble, but it might help." I looked at him with soft eyes as I slowly took the journal from him. I ran my hand over it. The journal seemed to have been covered in a paper bag with 'Gavin's Journal' written on the front in bold letters. I opened it to the first page and started to read. The first entry was simple. Somewhere along the lines of  'Hello, this is my first time writing in one of these.' Yet as I kept reading down, something caught my eye. In Gavin's chicken scratch handwriting read the words 'My therapist asked me to make one of these. Supposedly to relieve some of those thoughts off my mind.' I looked up at Gavin who was trying his hardest to look anywhere, but at me. "Keep going," he muttered. I didn't really feel like reading anymore. I could sense what was coming, but I kept reading nonetheless.

All of the entries were about the same. They kept talking about all the bad things Gavin thought back then. I have had all of those thoughts too. Some also including things he did during the day. Those things being fun, but some limited to suicide attempts. I knew those feelings all too well and I wouldn't even wish them on my worst enemy, let alone my husband. Tears formed in my eyes as I began to read the last entry. 'August 15th 2011: I met someone today. He had this aura to him. Something wonderful and it made me feel at home. He has these eyes that I wouldn't mind getting lost in and this laugh that makes me forget every bad thing in my mind. He has this curly hair that looks kind of silly, but makes me adore him more. He's got freckles all over him that he complained about when I complimented him about them. He has this thick Jersey accent and slight anger issues, but I find it cute. I think he might be my recovery. I think I'm going to talk to him and ask him out someday. That is if he even likes guys. His name is Michael, if you were wondering. Michael Jones.' I closed the journal and looked up at Gavin. He was tearing up too. "I never knew you went through all that. A-and what you said about me... Gavin I..." My voice trailed off as I searched his face for something I didn't quite know. "It's the ugly truth, my love," he said with a shrug.