Yesterday night
TESSA.
My eyes feel heavy as I struggle to open them. My vision is blurry and so is my hearing. I hear someone moving around but it sounds so far away.
I slowly turn my head to where I assume the sound is coming from and I see a blue blob slowly forming into a person. I blink a couple times, and am relieved when I can finally see her every detail. She's pushing some tubes and wires behind my bed, occasionally checking my monitor.
My monitor.
Of course I'm in the hospital. The last thing I really remember is telling Emery to call 911. I smile softly, proud of her for being so brave and calm. I was afraid she wouldn't be able to think straight. I could hardly think straight myself.
My smile fades and I squeeze my eyes shut at the memory of the pain in my gut. It honestly wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.
I didn't even feel it pierce through my skin until I actually realized the big wound in my stomach was quickly producing blood, growing by the second. By then I was desperately struggling to breath and that was more alarming than the pain the wound caused.
Once I open my eyes again, the nurse is looking behind me, her eyes fixated on something. I slowly turn my head, smiling softly at my husband in a plastic chair.
His head in rested on his shoulder, his closed eyes a shade of purple because of the shadows and how tired he probably is, and his lips are puckered into a pout. I turn my head to the sound of the nurse. She's walking across the room towards him. "No..." my voice starts in a whisper and then all of the sudden comes to life at the end of my word, stopping the nurse. "Let him sleep. He's tired."
"I was going to let him know you're awake, ma'am." The young nurse explains and I shake my head, nicely dismissing her.
"It's okay. He can find out when he wakes." The nurse nods her head, walking to the door and turning back around to face me.
"Do you need anything? Water?" She questions and I shake my head.
Though my throat is dry and my lips are sticky, I don't want her to get me a water. I'll wait for Hardin to wake up. I'm sure he's going to be anxious to do things for me. I'll give him the task to fetch me some water.
I glance at the clock on the wall just beside the small TV and it reads 3:34. I then glance out of the window, the streetlights and the stars brightly shining down onto the streets. The cars go swiftly passed the hospital, one occasionally pulling into the parking lot, which I can see from my window.
I then turn my head and stare at Hardin. He looks so peaceful lying there, his chin lowered, and his cheek rested on his shoulder. He has a small double chin, which makes me smile. He looks so comfortable— That was meant sarcastically.
I stare at him for a couple minutes, slowly shutting my eyes and focusing on drifting off til morning. I'll see him in the morning. Maybe he'll bring Auden and Emery tomorrow too. Excitement fills my chest and I smile, finally drifting off into slumber.
◉‿◉
Present
EMERY.
Cole and I lay in the hotel bed. Both of us staring at the ceiling with our arms out of the blankets. Thoughts are filling the room, all different kinds of them. I don't know what he's thinking about, but I'm thinking about my mom.
How could I have let this happen? Especially to her, the person who deserved it the least. Almost losing her has opened my eyes to a lot of things... well, opened my eyes sounds like I didn't see them right fucking in front of me.
I did see them, I just didn't want to. I didn't want to let go of it that easily. 'It' being, calling the cops on Robby. It was my little fucked up way of proving to everyone— mostly myself— that I did, in fact, love Robby so much. It was my way of burying down the relief I felt when hearing he was gone and it was over. I also buried down a lot of guilt that I carried.
"please, I need you, Em. Don't leave me. I can't live without you."
"I'll kill myself, baby. Please."
It's funny how much words can change a person. Words alone can morph someone into a totally different person. Those words alone are what drove my decisions when it came to Robby.
I know what you're thinking, who the fuck cares what he says? He's all talk.
No. He had tried killing himself multiple times before we met, once while I was getting to know him. He wasn't joking. And he had made it very clear that his own life was on my shoulders.
How could you leave someone like that? You probably think it's totally out of my character to care about someone so tremendously like I did Robby, putting him before me. Well, he's the reason I fuck over every other relationship I have. He's the reason I build a tall, thick, and dangerous brick wall around myself. He's the one that made me petrified of any types of relationships, mostly dating.
I can't give anyone any more of my time and love. I had given it all to Robby and it still wasn't enough. I just wasn't enough. Then again, he wasn't either.
There were times he would be perfect. He'd be smiling as we sat in the car, my bare feet propped onto the dashboard with frozen yogurt cups and plastic spoons in our hands.
He'd tell the most stupidest dad jokes he had learned from his uncle, the uncle he had lived with for a couple years until he passed, leaving him to move back in with his mother who reluctantly agreed to take him back under her arm.
His mother and father separated when he was very little. His mother turned to drinking and drugs which got her in an accident. They sent Robby to his uncle's who was a doctor. He was never home.
His uncle died from a heart attack and child services sent him back to his mother at the age of fifteen. She had been clean for ten years. I guess that's enough to send a child back to her home.
Sadly, her new husband wasn't as nice as he seemed in public. At night his mother and her husband would either fight or fuck, not caring a flying fuck about Robby. It was so fucking insane. I was so innocent back then and I couldn't even fathom my parents doing such a thing.
My mother would die twice before ever fighting with dad in front of us let alone fuck on the couch. She's a good person like that.
I finally stop my racing mind by taking a deep breath in and out. I lift my lips upwards and shut my eyes closed. I feel kind of at peace at the thought.
She's a good person. She always has been a good person. She's a good mother. Very good mother. I'm lucky to have her. I'm lucky to still have her now.
I jump at the feeling of Cole's fingers pinching at my elbow. "Your phone." He states and I look at him questionably before nodding my head in realization.
My phone is blaring at my hip where I had placed my phone down. About two minutes ago— or I guess, while looking at my home screen, an hour ago...—I had texted my dad that he can call me.
While I was typing it, Cole wouldn't stop nagging me to call him myself. Yes, I should probably have called him myself, but I'm stubborn and I'm coping. I'm a lot more of an asshole-bitch when I'm coping.
Dad told you to tell me to call him?
Okay...
Well, let me text him and tell him he can call me now, instead.
The earth rattled underneath me and I jolted awake, pressing my hand onto the window of the small ass truck Cole was driving.
"Shit, sorry. I didn't stop quick enough." Cole explained, glancing at me for a small second before back at the still road. The traffic was very busy. It took a couple minutes for the dumb truck to even move. Stop two minutes, move two inches, stop three more minutes, move one more inch, and so on.
Fuckkk... I hate traffic. What a great fucking time to be stuck in it too. I wanted to be back in the hotel, the bath water splashing into the tub, filling up with—not warm, but steaming, burning hot water so I can melt into it. Doesn't that sound so fucking lovely? It sounds perfect to me. No worries are allowed inside of the tub. Only myself and my clean, happy, and innocent thoughts that I no longer have anymore. So really, it'd just be me in the tub with an empty mind. Better than thinking of mom and her harsh breathing and sticky, bloody hands.
That's when I took a deep breath in, shaking my head as I shut my eyes. "We're almost to the end of the traffic." Cole assured and I shook my head again, silently telling him he has no idea why I'm frustrated. I wouldn't exactly call myself frustrated, maybe... what's the word? You know, the word you use when you feel your jaw clenched tightly, your eyes aching vaguely, and your heart stinging overwhelmingly every time it throbs? Starts with an 'S'... It fucking hurts.
Never mind. I know what it's called, so don't remind me. "Uh..." I quickly twisted my head to Cole, glad he was there to keep me distracted from my thoughts. "So, your dad came to your house today while I was grabbing your stuff and..."
"What?" I interrupted him, my voice low. Yes, I was now a little frustrated. He could've woken me up and told me this. I saw his eyes shift over to me, but he didn't turn his head from the not-fucking-going traffic.
"Yeah uh... he wanted me to tell you to call him when you had a chance." He continued, ignoring my eye-roll.
"I know he wants to talk to me but I'm not ready to talk to him. I did a fucked-up thing—"
"No you didn't." Cole interrupted, his voice firm and full of demand.
"Okay..." I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes yet again. "I did something that I—"
"You didn't do anything—" Cole interrupted yet again.
"Will you let me fucking talk?" I rose my voice, shaking my head at him. He didn't answer me, nor did he give me a facial expression to know he heard me. "I'm the reason my mom is in that hospital. And I don't think I'm ready to face him and discuss it with him right now."
"Then don't." Cole shrugged, shaking his head as if it was that simple. "You don't have to talk about anything relating to the subject. At least let him know you're okay. If that's all you can do, that's all you can do." He shrugged yet again, his hands rubbing down the steering wheel and landing at the bottom of it.
I can't help but stare at him, speechless. What do I say to that? There's no argument against that. "What if he asks what happened?" I asked, deciding arguing with Cole wasn't going to do anything but hurt me in the end, I knew it will. Maybe I should listen to him. It couldn't hurt. I looked down at my lap as I waited for his response.
"Then you say, 'hey dad. I don't want to talk about that right now.' And then you change the subject." He responded as if it was that easy. It's not that easy.
I felt his eyes on me and I slouched further into my seat, messing with my fingers in my lap, and terrified at how honest and vulnerable the conversation was becoming. "But... then he'd know I don't want to talk about it. He'll know how I feel." I mumbled, shrugging my shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal.
It might not seem like a big deal, but it is to me. My feelings are what I hide behind this tall, thick, and dangerous wall. If he knew how I felt about one thing then he's closer to knowing how I feel about a lot of other things too and that's too many bricks being taken away from my wall. I need this wall to be safe.
"Well..." Cole said, his eyes leaving my nervous posture and staring back at the road. He didn't say anything else, he kept silent, his eyes on the road. It didn't take long for us to be moving again and this time for good.
My finger hovers over the green answer call button, my stomach swarming with nervous butterflies. The butterflies are slowly eating holes into my stomach making me feel the need to throw them up to protect my body.
I hit answer and put the phone to my ear. "Hello?" I mumble.
"Hey..."
◉‿◉
𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎
You like the new title and cover?
Also, forgot to explain this in the other chapter:
New posting schedule: Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.
Chapter forty eight: Feb. 11, 2021