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It's a Beauty thing to be independent.
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Dark clouds loom over the city today. The grey fluffs of vapour hang low, thundering ever so slightly as the sky cries. The gloomy weather feels different today. A strong breeze rushes past me, taking my hair along with it, making it dance mid-air as I walk home. I look around to the other pedestrians, trying to observe them, see if they're feeling the same uneasiness I'm feeling. I watch as they walk along indifferently. It's a normal Friday evening for them. Yet, for me, something doesn't feel right today.
It feels like the sky is warning me about something.
Quickly brushing away my ridiculous thoughts, I fasten my pace and reach my apartment complex. While fetching my keys from my bag, I look around the street again. That's when I see her. The most beautiful lady I've ever seen, standing at the corner of my footpath, smiling at me. I pause and stare back, not being able to look away from her. Something about her doesn't scare me. Even from the considerable distance between us, I can see the kindness in her eyes. A car going way beyond speed limit manages to catch my attention for a split second and my eyes leave her. When I turn back to look at the spot where she stood not a second ago, I find it empty. My eyes search for her but it felt like she vanished in thin air.
Shaking my head at the uncanny incident and chalking it to tiredness because of my hectic week, I open the door and climb up the stairs to my cosy apartment. Once inside, I drop my keys on the side table and switch on the lights.
And then I let out a scream.
"Relax! It's me!" Jaxson almost shouts out in panic. Placing my hand over my heart, I urge it to relax as I catch my breath.
"Why couldn't you just switch on the damn lights?" I ask exasperatedly.
He shrugs and stretches his legs on my sofa.
"Didn't feel like it."
I drop my bag on the kitchen counter and find some new letters in my pile of unopened letters. My stomach drops as I, yet again, turn a blind eye to them.
"You know, the problem just won't disappear by you not acknowledging it," he remarks, "you have to open them someday, Ira. You know what's in there."
Closing my eyes shut, I count to five as I try to control my irritation. Walking around the kitchen counter, I open the fridge and grab two bottles of beer, walking over to Jaxson and passing one to him.
"Why are you here, Jaxson?"
I watch my ex-husband's nonchalant facade crack, his inner guilt and worry now visible on his face. Bringing the mouth of the bottle to his own mouth, he takes one long gulp of the beer before speaking up.
"I won't be able to pay my share of the hospital bills this month."
My heart feels the familiar ache, the cold beer tasting like poison on my lips. There it is. The same sentence I've heard over the past 5 months.
"What happened this month?"
"My team lost," he whispers in a weak voice. My head feels hot as I try to control my rage.
"So, is there any reason why you can't just stop betting? Your team has been losing since the past year. At least just change your team for God's sake if you can't get a hold of your addiction."
His head snaps to me and a sarcastic smile forms on his face. I know what he's gonna say even before he says it.
"And start betting for your boyfriend's team?"
A pregnant pause takes over the conversation, none of us fully knowing how to deal with this whole mess. I hear his breathing in my silent yet noisy apartment. The New-York lifestyle is so familiar to me that the honks and the traffic noises from outside my window blend in like white noise. I feel droplets of perspiration from the cold beer bottle forming under my hand as I hold on to it for dear life. A moment later, I hear him sigh and speak up.
"That was a low blow," he says.
"Hell yeah it was," I comment, snark evident in my voice.
"Hey! You can't blame me. You know you meant the exact same thing when you told me to change teams."
A sheepish smile takes over my features, despite the situation and the conversation, "Yeah, I did."
This causes him to laugh, which in turn makes me join in on the laughter. And soon, we're laughing without a care in the world.
It's what made me love Jaxson when I met him the first time. How we both together managed to lighten any situation, no matter how bad. We met fighting for a parking spot, both of us stubborn enough to not back down. We ended up in our cars for almost thirty minutes. Something about that incident, he said, made him fall in love with me.
Honestly, I felt something too. But the love I felt for him was never enough. Not for him. Not for me. My heart belongs someplace else and he knew it from the very beginning. But he didn't give up on me, desperately trying to bring back my heart. He managed up to some extent, which led to our marriage and our son. But soon enough, the lack of love started showing. Money started becoming an issue as Adrian fell sick. Jaxson's habit of betting cost us a lot, something he would never stop feeling guilty about. Our fights became never-ending, always concluding in tears and broken objects.
So, finally, we decided to split 6 months ago. We figured if our marriage went any further, we wouldn't be able to remain on good terms. It was a mature decision from both our sides, both of us equally to blame. Adrian would never feel the split as long as we remain friends, and that is something I don't see changing anytime soon. We would never not be friends.
The laughter dies down as he stares at me with a tender smile on his face.
"How have you been, Ira?"
I wave my hand dismissively at him and take a swig of my beer.
"I've been better."
"I promise I'll pay the whole thing next month."
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jax," the nickname slips through my lips, causing a nostalgic smile to take over his strong features. His eyes glance over to the pile of letters on my kitchen counter.
"The landlord?" he enquires.
"Yep. He's saying this is my last month if I don't pay him the past 3 month's rent all at once. I honestly don't blame him," I say, getting up and sitting down on the same couch he's sitting on, throwing his legs down and placing my own over his thighs. He grabs my toes and lightly massages them, something he has been doing for me ever since we met six years ago. I feel his fingers stop the massage as he looks over at me, a clear hesitance shining in his eyes.
"You can come live with me."
I shake my head no, "You and I both know that won't end well, Jax. We decided to separate for a reason."
He nods, resuming the foot massage which I know serves as a distraction from his own problems. A minute later he speaks up again, "Just until you manage to find a new place if he does end up evicting you."
"I'll consider it," I smile at him gratefully. We sit in silence for a long time before Jax's phone pings. He fetches it from his pocket and looks over at me sheepishly. He double-checks his badge and the gun in his holster, a habit ingrained in him as a police detective.
"Duty calls," he says.
I nod and remove my legs. Quickly getting up along with him, he pulls me into a hug, which I reciprocate.
"Stay safe," I whisper. He pulls back slightly and pecks my forehead.
"For you, always."
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The hospital walls look like they've always looked. White and dull. The telltale smell of medicines lingers in the hallways. I smile at a few nurses who I've grown familiar with, with me coming here almost every day for the past 2 years.
Walking into Adrian's room, I expect to find him watching PAW Patrol, but to my surprise, I see my mom and dad sitting on the chairs next to Adrian, mom telling him stories of their childhood and mine. Adrian looks happy and interested as he listens to his grandmother. An easy smile makes its way to my face as I see the signs of Adrian being an excellent listener from such a young age.
"Mom, Dad, what are you both doing here?"
Three pairs of eyes turn to me. Adrian's face splits up in a wide smile under his plastic oxygen mask.
"Mom! Grandma was telling me about her bike..." he falters, "aventires!". I realise what he means to say and I laugh, walking over to him, leaning down and placing a small kiss on his forehead.
"Do you mean to say adventures?" I ask.
His face scrunches up the most adorable way and after another second of thinking, he looks at his grandma, who nods an encouraging yes to him.
"Yes! Ad-ven-ture!" he spells it out slowly, testing out a new word and adding to his ever-increasing vocabulary. I let out a small laugh and pinch his cheeks.
Turning my eyes over at my parents, I find them staring at the TV on the wall. My throat closes up and my breath catches in my throat. Because on the screen, I see Ozias, running across the field with the ball in his possession. I sit down at the edge of Adrian's bed.
The players of the other team try to get hold of the ball, but Ozias expertly manoeuvres across them, running at the speed of light. As he gets closer to the goal, the world around me goes silent. I watch him look to his left where his captain and team striker Xander Montenegro is ready for him, and just as the defence of the opponent team is about to catch up to Ozias, he smoothly passes the ball over to Xander who in turn expertly kicks it into the goalpost of the opponent team. We watch as the goalkeeper jumps sideways as an attempt to block the goal, but the ball flies just centimetres away from his reach, flying directly into the goalpost and colliding with the net.
The world around me comes back to life, as my mom and dad, the nurse who had stopped in our doorway and even Adrian cheers for our goal. I watch as Ozias and Xander celebrate on the field and on our screens and I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. A rock heavy weight settles over my chest, and I tear my eyes away from the screen. I dare to glance at my mom, who is unabashedly looking at me. She looks like she's about to say something. I raise my eyebrow at her, pleading her not to open age-old wounds. She sighs, and speaks up, "We were in town for some business, so we thought why not meet our favourite people."
She walks over to Adrian and pats his cheeks and tickles his sides, and is rewarded by his booming laughter echoing around the room. I watch as my parents interact with him, deep down knowing they were here to check on me, see how I'm doing. To help me, convince me to let them help. Dad notices my look and walks over to me, engulfing me into a tight hug.
"You remember our promise right?" he whispers.
I lean back into his hold and smile, "Every time my plate is full,"
"... empty some of it on my plate."
It's something I used to do when I was a kid. As a child, I had a small appetite, so at every function and every wedding, I used to transfer some of my food to Dad's plate. As I grew up, he turned it into our thing, where he always said that if some problem was too heavy for me to handle, he had his plate ready for me to transfer some of it to him. It was a backup plan I never intend on using, not wanting to burden my parents.
He smiles back at me and kisses my forehead. They then bid us goodbye, leaving Adrian and me alone. I walk over to his side and take a seat.
"Hey, baby. How was your day?"
He sits up a little straighter and I adjust his breathing device around his nose. Adrian has Cystic Fibrosis, which causes serious trouble in breathing. A inhalation device makes it easier for him to breathe. The doctors had suggested transplant to make it even easier for him, to treat him with the best treatment available, but I can't afford at the moment. It kills me to know that I have the ability to make his life easier and yet, I can't.
"Grandma and grandpa told me many," he opens his arms to show me the quantity, "manyyy stories."
I laugh, "Did they now?"
He nods, "Yep." A yawn slips through his lips, and his eyes start drooping.
"What do you want to do now?" I ask, knowing his answer already.
"I'm tired, Mom. Can I sleep?" he asks.
"Of course you can. Do you want me to sing for you?"
He quickly nods and I chuckle, helping him to lay down on his bed. I gently pat his head, his soft blonde hair feeling like cotton beneath my fingers.
"Which song do you want today, sir?" I teasingly ask. He puts his hand to his forehead, tapping his index finger to it. I control my smile as I stare at him with my most serious face.
"Sing me the move it move it song!"
A loud laugh leaves me as I hear his request.
"Adrian, how will that song help you sleep?" I ask through bouts of laughter.
He shrugs, an action he clearly inherited from his father and smiles, "Just do it!"
I laugh a little louder and peck his forehead again. He joins in with me, his chest heaving up and down as he struggles a bit to catch his breath. I don't help him, knowing from past experiences that me helping him won't really help him at all. He needs to learn how to catch his breath and regulate his laughter himself. After a few seconds of him calming down, he smiles a toothy grin at me and gestures me to begin.
"Your wish is my command, sir!"
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Hello! This chapter got way too long so I decided to split it bang in the middle. I'll post the second part (chapter 3) tomorrow! I hope y'all like it!
Anyway, this or that then?
Summer or Winter?
I'll see y'all tomorrow now! Ciao!
Love,
Anya <3