Running on Empty (18 page)

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Authors: L. B. Simmons

BOOK: Running on Empty
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I find myself smiling as I relay this part to Blake. Derek was a really good zombie. He kinda creeped me out actually.

Blake smiles back and nods his head, encouraging me to go on. He stays silent, allowing me as much time as I need to speak.

“I told them they should smile when they remember his hugs and his kisses, how he would throw them up in the air as high as could, and how he would often fall asleep with them in their bed reading their favorite bedtime stories. I wanted them to be proud of him and to never be ashamed that they missed him. I encouraged them to cry as much as they needed to cry and to talk when they needed to talk. I wanted them to know that even though they lost him, I would always be there for them, to help them. But I didn’t really set a great example in the beginning.”

I sigh heavily. This part of my life was the most painful to talk about.

“It wasn’t easy by any means, Blake. There were some days I couldn’t get out of bed. As much as I love my girls, I was just
so
sad. So sad I can’t even put it into words. Completely broken. The pain in my chest was unbearable some days, like my insides were completely hollowed out. Some days I couldn’t breathe, some days I would cry all day long, and some days…I couldn’t do anything but sit there in my bed because my body was so physically exhausted from the grief. I would just lay there and think about Derek. Questioning how in the world I was supposed to make it without him. He was my life for so long, I didn’t know how to live it or even function without him. Thank God for Harlow and Nancy. They took turns making sure the girls were okay while I dealt with everything. They cooked for them, bathed them, read to them, got them up in the morning, took them to school. They did everything they could to make sure my girls were completely taken care of while I took the time I needed to grieve. I mean, some days were okay, but some days were – well…they were just really bad.”

I look down at my hand because it’s tingling and I realize that Blake’s squeezing my hand so tightly, he’s completely cut off the circulation in my fingers. When I glance back to his face, I find his eyes wandering all over mine. Surprisingly, for once, it’s not the look of sympathy that I have grown to hate over the last three years. His expression is one of such compassion and tenderness that I catch myself holding my breath.

But I can also tell he’s upset about something. The look on his face isn’t quite matching up with the death grip he has on my hand.

“Blake, I’m okay now,” I say with a smile because, honestly, I’m completely dumbfounded by his reaction. I can’t help but find it humorous. I look back down at my hand. He follows my gaze and when he sees my purple fingers, he immediately lets go. I wiggle my fingers to get the circulation going again.

“I only have one good hand left, Blake, please be careful with it,” I say with a chuckle.

Before I have a chance to say anything else, he’s up off the couch, pacing back and forth through the living room, raking his hand through his hair. He seems extremely aggravated about something. What the hell just happened in the last couple of seconds?

I stand up and use my body to block his path. He finally stops pacing.

“What is wrong with you? What’s going on? Why are you so upset?”

“It’s just I...Alex...”

I put my palm flat on his chest. I feel his heart beating rapidly. “Blake, I’m fine. I promise. What’s going on with you?”

He looks away and I move my face into the path of his gaze. “Blake. What is it?”

“I should have been here,” he says through his teeth.

I hold his stare. “What? You should have been where?”

“I should have been
here
, with you,” he says emphatically, pointing towards the floor. “I should have been here, Alex. To help you. To make sure you were okay. To protect you. But I wasn’t. And you were here, all by
yourself
. Handling it all by
yourself
. Dealing all by
yourself
. All because I couldn’t come back here. Because I was scared to come back; scared I couldn’t face what was waiting for me here. Scared, Alex,” he says a little louder, but catches it and lowers his voice. “Scared. While you were dealing with this shit, I was hiding in Colorado. Jesus, that
kills
me.”

I move my other hand up to his chest. It’s throbbing almost in time with the rapid beating of his heart. “Blake, that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing you could’ve done. I had Harlow and Nancy. And I made it through, eventually. It just took a while. I’m okay now.”

I reach up and put my hand on his face. I pull it towards mine until our eyes meet. “Look at me, Blake. I. Am. Fine. And with the way that I treated you...you had no reason to come back here to help me with anything. I don’t blame you, so stop blaming yourself.”

“That’s not an excuse, Alex. I told you that I would always be there for you, even when you didn’t want me to be, but I wasn’t. Not when you really
needed
me. I can’t imagine what you went through. But to hear that you were in so much pain, so sad… to think I wasn’t here to help you through that, to hold your hand, to protect you. I just…”

I turn my hand over and stroke his cheek. He puts his head down and I force him to look at me again.

“Shh, Blake. That’s enough. I don’t want to hear any of that right now. Derek’s death was tragic. It was heartbreaking. It was too much for me some days. But you listen to me. There is
nothing
you could have done if you were here that would have protected me from that pain. You need to know that. You need to
believe
that. I refuse to listen to you tear yourself up over something you had no control over. It happened. It’s over. I’m fine. End of story.”

He says nothing more. He just grabs my wrist and pulls my body into his, being careful not to hurt my hand. He rests his cheek on top of mine and whispers solemnly into my ear, “Never again, Alex. Never. Again.”

He leaves his cheek against mine and I feel his breath in my ear. He wraps his big arms around me and we stay like that for some time. The warmth from the closeness of our bodies and the heat of his breath in my ear cause my heart rate to triple. Yet, with my heart beating a million miles a minute, I feel a strange calm. I want to let go of everything. I want to sink my body into his and let him be strong for me. I want to let him take my pain, my sadness, my exhaustion…everything that keeps me from being truly happy. I want his arms to stay around me… his warmth and protection. But as a familiar lump forms in my throat, I know this will never happen.

I
can’t
allow it.

I
won’t
allow it.

Blake is more right than he could possibly know.

Never.
Again.

 

 

 

It’s around midnight when I finally get around to taking those damn pills. Blake and I have a minor “disagreement” regarding me taking them this late at night. Obviously, I don’t want to take them so I’ll be able to get up with the girls in the morning, but Blake won’t hear it. So here I am, at midnight, in the kitchen, glaring at the prescription bottle...
again
. I absolutely hate having to use these pills to help me sleep. But the truth of the matter is, the pain in my hand is getting worse and I really doubt I will get an ounce of sleep without some major pain relief. I let Blake think he won his stupid little argument, but I take comfort in knowing the decision was all mine.

That doesn’t mean I have to like it.

After eating the last couple of pieces of a loaf of bread, I chug some water along with two of the pain pills the doctor prescribed. Putting my glass in the dishwasher, I hear Blake enter the kitchen. “How ya holding up there, champ?” he asks, grabbing the wadded up bread bag off the counter and putting it in the trashcan.

“I’m good. Just took my pills, so I’m sure I’ll be feeling even better soon. I’m exhausted,” I say, attempting to cover my yawn.

He smiles at me. “Yeah, me too. Let’s get you to bed.” He puts his arm around me and gives me a quick squeeze before releasing me. “You need to get some rest; it’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, it has,” I say, walking out of the kitchen. I head to the girls rooms for one last peek to make sure everything is okay. I can’t help but smile as I look at them, all piled on Nycole’s bed, sleeping peacefully.

“Do you think we need to move them?”

I turn back to find Blake standing directly behind me. I shake my head. “No, they’re fine. If they get up, then they get up. I’ll deal with it.”

“No,
you
won’t.
I
will. You rest. I’ve got everything covered,” he states quickly. “Otherwise, what’s the point of me being here?”

I make sure to exaggerate my groan so he can note my strong objection to having him help me in the middle of the night. “Okay Blake, fine, but promise you’ll wake me if you have any problems with them. Kyndall sometimes has nightmares and usually needs me to get into bed with her. Please come get me if that happens.”

“Alex, I have experience with kids you know. It’ll be fine, I promise. But I also promise that if I feel like they need you personally, then I’ll come get you. You have my word.” And as I look at his unwavering eyes, I know he will.

I nod my head. “Okay. Let me go get changed and I’ll bring you some blankets and pillows for the couch. I’m sorry…” He stops me immediately.

“Alex, it’s fine. It’s better for me to be out there anyway. That way I can hear if they need something. Don’t worry about me sleeping on the couch. Go get your pajamas on, bring me the pillow and blankets, and we’ll watch some TV before you go to bed.” I nod my head again as I try to cover another yawn. I am so tired right now, words just seem like unnecessary energy expenditure.

I walk to my bedroom, grab my flannel PJ bottoms and one of Derek’s old “wife beater” tanks, and throw them on. I pull my hair back in a headband,
no ponytails for a while obviously
, wash my face,
one handed of course,
and brush my teeth,
that was an interesting adventure
. Then I head to the closet and grab extra sheets and pillows for Blake. I head out to the living room where he’s sitting on the couch, fully dressed, flipping through the channels.

“Blake,” I say, throwing down the sleeping essentials for him on the couch, “let me get you something to sleep in. I’m sure I have some of Derek’s old stuff you could use.”

“No, Alex, it’s okay…I wouldn’t want to–”

“Shut up, Blake. It’s fine. They’re just sitting there. There’s no reason for you to sleep in your clothes.” I take note of how good he still actually looks. Must be nice to have had a
shit
day, but still look freakin’ awesome.

“Well,” he hesitates. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“If it was anyone else but you. But it
is
you, so no, I don’t mind.” I turn and walk back into the bedroom. I approach the drawer that contains Derek’s old sleepwear. I grab an undershirt and some pajama bottoms. While holding his clothes, I gently place my hand on them and take in a deep breath. I’m surprised that the knowledge of handing it over to Blake doesn’t bother me. I’m surprisingly okay with it. I let out the breath, carry the clothes into the living room, and place them on his lap. Taking them from me, he stands up and lingers for a minute, but eventually makes his way to the girls’ bathroom.

When Blake emerges, I take in a deep breath through my nose, hold it my lungs and brace myself against the couch. I know it is my imagination, but for a split second, I swear it’s Derek walking out of the bathroom. An electrical shock whizzes through my entire body, and by the time my brain grasps the fact that it is just Blake, my heart is already nearly beating out of my chest.

Blake watches me for a second, as though trying to make sure I’m okay. I give him a weak smile. “Sorry, it just took me a little by surprise.”

“Alex, if it bothers you, I can–”

“No, Blake. It’s okay, really. It was just a bit of a shock. It’s fine, I promise. If I wasn’t comfortable I would let you know,” I say, attempting to persuade both of us. I’ve opened up so much to him tonight; I’m not going to let something as small as seeing him in Derek’s clothes ruin how far we’ve come this evening. I shared things with him that I haven’t even shared with Harlow. This friendship is important. I trust him, and he needs to know that. Even though I’m still a little freaked out, I smile and add, “Let’s see what’s on TV before these pills take me to never-never land.”

We both plop down on the couch. He sits at the other end, obviously trying to give me space if I need it. So to let him know I’m okay, I turn so I can put my feet in his lap and lay back on the throw pillow behind me. Putting my hurt hand above my head as I lay there, I grab the remote and start flipping through the channels.

We ultimately end up on
The Breakfast Club
, laughing at the coincidence because we lived and breathed this movie growing up. As we watch it now, in my living room sitting side by side, I feel like I’m twelve years old again. We laugh with each other as we quote our favorite lines from the movie out loud.

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