Take You Back

CHAPTER 43

~Sometimes it's not the
strength but gentleness that
cracks the hardest shells.
-Richard Paul Evans

Nausea swirled unrestrained in my empty stomach. My head swam with half-formed regrets. My heart felt as if my blood had become tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat.

I kept walking around the house, wishing Vincent was here to occupy the loneliness that was eating me up. I pushed myself into the room I once stayed in. For some reason, he kept this door closed, as if he could trap the memories inside. But once I opened it, every recollection would race towards me like a slap in the face, drenching me in a cold sadness. I could see him on my bed laying down, his eyes focused outside, sweet lavender lingering in the air. Silence suffocates. I can practically see him laughing at something I said.

"Love?" A lone tear fell from my eye and instantly I wanted to give up. "Baby, why are you crying?" He asked, holding my cheeks, making me shiver. All of this felt so real. I shut my eyes, but when I reopened them, he was there smiling at me.

"Love, please don't cry. I'll come back. Remember our promise?" I nodded, sniffling. "Forever and always." I was brought back to reality when I heard the door open. Tina stood there with Venice standing beside her holding a picture frame.

"Momma look at Dada" Venice looked at the picture frame smiling. She didn't know that he might not wake up. She's so innocent she thinks that nothing is wrong with her father. Venice handed me the picture frame and ran back to the room.

A photograph. That was all it took for the tears to burst my dam of restraint. I clutched the solid wooden frame tight in my hand, able to see a ghostly reflection of my face in the thin sheen of glass that covered it.

I looked past my own dreary eyes and stared at his face that had been caught in a moment of perfection.

It was the happiest memories that hurt the worst. They were the ones that cut her deepest.,,, I focused on his eyes; they were glistening with the twinkle of laughter that once I loved. Now they laugh at her. They reminded me of what I had lost. I clutched the frame tight, pressing it hard to my breast, wishing to feel his head resting upon it one last time. It was at that moment that I realized I no longer knew how I felt. I was numb, yet somehow in agony. I wanted him back more than I'd ever wanted anything.

I pulled my knees-up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my shins; if I could just curl up into a ball, I wouldn't have to face real life, I'd be protected from everything around me.

But I'd still have to live with myself, with the wretched memories swirling around in my head. My eyes, already red and puffy from crying, squeezed shut to push more tears out. I let my head fall down to my knees, and I pulled my legs closer to me.

No matter what I did, there was nowhere I could hide from the thoughts in my head.

I was rushed outside into the freezing cold air. I can't breathe. Everything is spinning, and it feels as if the ground is melting under my feet. I collapsed onto my hands and knees, my breathing shallow and quick.

I can hear Tina saying something, but she sounds distant and muffled. My stomach flips as I think about Vincent's words. 'Forever and always'

"Don't worry, I'm sure they are taking great care of your Vincent."

My thoughts drift off to John. For some unknown reason, I gag at the thought of his calloused hand tugging on my chin. My body is shaking uncontrollably. I felt Tina's hands gently resting on my shoulders, but I shrugged her off.

My hearing is the first to return, then my eyesight follows suit. I'm still shaking as I push back onto my knees. Tina is quietly squatting next to me, her breath forming white clouds in the freezing air. "He'd order the military here just to protect you from the cold. Even though that seems unnecessary, he'd do it just for you to be warm." I walked inside the house with Tina beside me shivering.

"Why don't you go spend the night with him just to see how he's doing?" I nodded my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Laura, please don't go back out in the cold. It's freezing, and you know Vincent, he'd kill you before you even step outside without a scarf, so please let me sleep in peace," Tina said, kissing my cheeks, leaving me to sit on my own. I haven't gone up to that room for almost a week, and it's been so long since he's been like that.

Each time I ascend the stairs, my mind counts each one: 1,2,3,4. I stopped in front of his room door looking at the huge wooden doors; nobody really came up to the second floor. Vincent never wanted anyone to disturb him, no matter what, because he advised everyone that I knew not to come up here and I really wanted to know why that was.

My hands reached out for the doorknob, the cold metal coming intact with my skin. I breathed deeply, twisting the knob and opening the door. The lights were dim, exactly how he wanted them.

He's alive but somehow doesn't know how to reach out to us.

The doctor said they could find no reason for him to stay in a coma, except the possibility of brain damage from lack of oxygen or blood loss. There was no reason for him to stay in a coma for so long, he said, and he could wake up any day. But how long was any day going to take? I know they're lying to me, but I know he's in there. He promised me he'd stay with me no matter what.

Sarah had long forgotten about. She owned everything Vincent yearned for everything he built from scratch. She snapped it away just by having me captivated at gun point.

There was no news about her being the new CEO of anything, nor why a new woman was the boss of Johnson's Corp. Somehow it must have slipped me. Thankfully, this house belonged to Vincent's grandmother, so Sarah had no way of getting her hands on it. I was worried for a bit about where I was going to stay since Sarah took everything Vincent owned and worst, we couldn't tell anybody what had happened that night.

I heaved a sigh, slipping into one of Vincent's t-shirts. I looked at my reflection and chuckled. His t-shirt swallowed me completely.

I got into bed, carefully rolled onto my side and looked at him. His features were much softer in his sleep, the lines that usually creased his brow replaced by a youthful appearance that matched those of others his age. He looked peaceful. Wanting nothing more than to curl up into the curve of his body, she turned around and pulled the blanket up over her shoulder.