Vindicated (32 page)

Read Vindicated Online

Authors: Keary Taylor

Maybe it would be better for him to move on.
 
All the other angels I had pleaded with said what a wonderful thing it was that awaited him.
 
To be an exalted council member had to have its benefits.
 
And it sounded like it was pretty much a guaranteed thing.
 
I was keeping him from that.
 
I was being selfish again.

But I couldn’t stop being selfish.

I couldn’t stop loving Alex.

I couldn’t let him go where I could never go permanently.

The phone suddenly rang, causing me to jump violently.
 
Alex took one more deep breath, and moved back to whatever it was he was making.
 
I numbly walked to the handset and picked up the phone.

“Hello?” I answered.
 
Alex paused, watching my face as I listened to the voice on the other end.
 
“Uh huh,” I said.
 
Swallowing hard, I forced myself to answer the woman on the other end’s question.

“I don’t know if that will be possible,” I said.
 
“I’m afraid my husband will probably be leaving soon and I’m not sure when he will be returning.”
 
Alex’s eyes continued to watch mine.
 
“Okay.
 
Thank you.”

I hung up the phone and sank onto a barstool.

“That was the rehab facility,” I explained, Alex’s hands continuing their work.

“And?” he said, measuring out some flour.

“Caroline’s doing really well.
 
They said she’s really progressing.
 
She wanted to set up a meeting with you.”

“Oh,” was all Alex said, his hands pausing for just a moment as he placed my responses with the words the woman on the phone had spoken.

And I sat at the counter the rest of the day as Alex cooked a meal that would have fed fifteen people.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

 

I couldn’t do it that night.
 
Everything in my head was telling me that I had no choice, that I had to go back, that I had to keep fighting, to keep pleading.

But I couldn’t do it.
 
Everything inside of me was screaming against my brain.
 
My entire being shuddered at the thought of having to go back one more time.

I just couldn’t do it that night.

The air was cold and damp that night as I sat on the wooden swing on the deck.
 
I could hear Alex inside, putting the remains of his cooking frenzy away.
 
The wood planks below me were cold on my toes as I pushed myself slowly back and forth.
 
Drops of dew were already forming on the seat around me, creating a ghost around my body where it warmed the wood too much for the water to collect.

I closed my eyes, tipping my head back against the swing.
 
Breathing the night air in felt good.
 
Yet I still felt like I was suffocating.
 
So much of me felt dead.

The back door opened but I didn’t open my eyes until something light but large in size was placed on my lap.
 
I opened my eyes to see Alex keeping my guitar upright and balanced on my lap.
 
In his other hand he held his own guitar.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve played it,” he said, letting go of mine.
 
He settled on the ground in front of me, crossing his legs, and letting his own settle in his lap.
 
His eyes holding mine, he let his fingers start to pick their way through chords.

Something in me wanted to smile at this gesture of normality.
 
Alex was right.
 
I couldn’t even remember the last time I had played my guitar.
 
I played so infrequently the last year or so that there wasn’t even a hint of the callouses that once covered the fingertips on my left hand.

Looking down at the strings, I placed my fingers on them.
 
And then my other hand started picking at them, bringing notes out that reflected how I felt inside.
 
Broken and lost.

Alex picked up with a fitting harmony, his notes complimenting mine but in a hopeful uplifting tone.
 
I met his eyes as I continued to play, searching for answers there.
 
But all I could think about was how the gray was soon going to be blue again, and I was never going to be able to see them.

It took a moment for me to realize my picking had faded away.
 
Alex started to hum to his notes.
 
After a minute I recognized the tune.
 
Alex started to sing softly.

 

“You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be

And I don’t want to go home right now.

 

And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life.

‘Cause sooner or later it’s over,

I just don’t want to miss you tonight.

 

And I don’t want the world to see me,

‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand.

When everything’s made to be broken,

I just want you to know who I am.”

 

“The Goo Goo Dolls,” I said when Alex stopped singing, his fingers still moving though.
 
“I’ve always loved that song.”

“I always kind of thought
Iris
described us,” he said, his eyes looking a little sad still.
 
“It’s always been our song to me, I guess.”

“It’s perfect,” I said.

We were quiet for a moment, simply looking at each other.
 
There were a million words that needed to be said between us, and all I wanted was a lifetime to say them.

“In case this doesn’t work,” Alex said, his voice sounding rough.
 
“In case they take me, I just want you to know that I don’t regret one second of the past year.
 
I would do it all over, every moment of it.
 
It’s been worth it all.”

Feeling so still inside, I set my guitar on the deck and kneeled down in front of him.
 
He set his own guitar aside, keeping my eyes.
 
I reached my hand toward him, letting my fingers trace the blackness around his eyes.
 
I let my hands drift to his lips, feeling their smooth surface.
 

“This can’t be the end,” I breathed, letting my eyes linger everywhere but his eyes.
 
“Everything has just started for us.
 
This can’t be the end.”

He didn’t say anything and I could feel his eyes tracing over every surface of my face, letting them trail down to my body.
 
I felt my pulse quicken, electricity running under my skin.
 
Alex’s right hand came up, trailing lightly along my bare arm.
 
I traced my fingers along the edges of his lips, recalling how they tasted and felt against my own.

Alex’s hands went from my arm to the hem of my shirt, lifting it over my head.
 
The cool air caused goosebumps to flash across my skin.
 
He just looked at me for a moment, his eyes taking in every detail.
 
And finally his eyes came back up to mine, his alight with love and anticipation.
 
His hand came to my cheek.

“You’re perfect,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
 
“You’ve
always
been perfect.”

A small smile crossed my lips then, and for the first time in what felt like a long time, I actually felt happy.

For that moment, being there with him would be enough to last me forever.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

 

I knew this was the day.

There wasn’t any reason for thinking it.
 
Any more reason than there would have been for it to have happened yesterday.

I simply knew that today would be the day.

My eyes slid open to meet the ceiling above me, the realization that I had missed my last chance to go back and make a plea making me sick.
 
I wasn’t going to get to go back before Alex would be sucked away.
 
This was the black date, all the numbers on the bomb had fallen.
 
Today was the day everything was going to implode.

I rolled over to see Alex sitting on the side of the bed, a pile of feathers beneath his wings.
 
He sat with his forearms braced against his knees, his head hanging low.
 
He held his wedding ring in his fingers, turning it over and over, the sun reflecting off of its surface.

And watching his face, I knew that he knew this was the day too.

“Would you make me some French toast?” I asked.
 
I was proud for making my voice sound so normal.

He looked over at me, his face haggard looking.
 
He looked so worn out.
 
And decayed.
 
He reached a hand out toward me and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ears.
 
“Sure,” he said.

Alex stood and headed for the door, two more feathers falling before he even made it out into the living room.
 
His skin was so tight on his bones it looked painful.
 
His veins rose out in a terrifying way.

It felt like I had a thousand tiny knives inside my chest.

I stepped into the shower, trusting my instincts that Alex wouldn’t disappear before I could get out.
 
As I lathered my hair, I noticed something inside of me felt different.
 
I felt in control.
 
I felt grounded.
 
Like I was going to make this work.

Like maybe, just maybe, Alex might make it through this day.
 
Somehow.

Seeing the rain that was coming down as I toweled off, I pulled on my favorite green sweater and a pair of worn-out jeans.
 
Feeling like today of all days I shouldn’t have to hide what I was, I twisted my locks into a messy bun on the back of my head.

Alex looked up at me when I exited our room and paused for a moment, simply staring at me.

“What?” I asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

“I’ve never seen you wear your hair up before,” he said, a hint of a smile cracking in the corner of his mouth.

“I can’t remember the last time I did it,” I said, taking a seat at the bar.
 
Alex passed a plate of French toast across.
 
Next came the butter tray and a bottle of Alex’s homemade syrup.

I realized then that I wasn’t hungry in the least.

Dutifully, I poured the syrup and took a bite.
 
As usual, it was perfection, even if I wasn’t hungry.

As he cleaned up, I watched Alex.
 
At times, it seemed as if the edges of him blurred, as if he wasn’t quite there all the way.
 
He had to reach for the egg carton twice, his hand seeming to pass right through it the first time he tried.
 

There was no question that today was the day.

“I want you to do something for me today,” he said as he finished and I ate my last bite. He rested his forearms on the counter and looked at me.

“Anything,” I promised, knowing that I would.

“I want you to draw me,” he said, his eyes never wavering.

“Draw you?” I questioned, my brows knitting together.

He nodded.
 
“Like those drawings you showed me before.
 
How long has it been since you last drew anything?”

I shook my head.
 
“I don’t know.
 
Probably since I was about thirteen?”

“Draw me,” he said again.

I understood then why he was making his request.
 
We both knew what was going to happen today, and just in in case he didn’t come back he wanted to leave one more reminder of him for me.
 
Even though we both knew that I didn’t need it.
 
“Alright,” I said, my voice sounding scratchy.

Other books

Burning Intensity by Elizabeth Lapthorne
Free Spirits by Julia Watts
Against the Wind by J. F. Freedman
Roman Nights by Dorothy Dunnett
West of Sunset by Stewart O'Nan