Broken and Screwed

I drew in a shuddering breath.

He punched the button for the same floor we’d been on during Ethan’s surgery. My mother was in surgery. What did that mean?

Then the elevator sounded our arrival and we were walking down the same hallway as before. It hadn’t changed. The walls were white and stark. A few paintings were hung, but they were out of place. And they were in memory of others who had died already.

I shivered. I wondered if I donated one, would it be in Ethan’s memory?

“Jesse?”

My father pushed out of his chair. His normally tan face was pale. His features that always seemed charming and charismatic were twisted into a grieving mask, but his eyes lit up when he saw Jesse beside me. Then he had his arms around him and I heard his voice muffled against Jesse’s shoulder, “Thank God you’ve come. It’s real good to see you.”

Jesse’s eyes flashed in confusion at me, but he hugged my father back. When my dad didn’t let go, Jesse gave in and hugged him tighter. After another second, my dad released Jesse, but only to hold him by the shoulders. He shook him a bit. “It’s real good to see you. I mean that. How have you been?”

I saw that Jesse swallowed tears back. His head nodded and then hung.

My dad hugged him again. This time was longer, as if Jesse had been the one who died and came back to life.

After the second hug, Jesse asked hoarsely, “How’s Shelby?”

“Oh.” My dad’s arms fell away. He shook his head and the same hoarseness came to his voice. “She ain’t doing good. She’s in surgery right now. They had to pump her stomach and I guess she swallowed a razorblade, too. After she’s healed up, the docs are going to evaluate if they’ll do the seventy-two hour hold or not. She’ll have to have a worker watch her at all times.”

Jesse looked at me in question.

I flinched as I knew what he was thinking. Why hadn’t I told him before? He knew my mother would’ve shown signs of depression before, but how was I supposed to answer that? We were all sad. We’d been sad for so long. It hadn’t only been her.

I turned away and found an empty seat. Then I huddled in my own corner. My father never once looked at me. When he saw Jesse, his eyes were only for him. That’s when I knew that I’d been right. He loved Jesse more than me. Jesse was his last real connection to Ethan. After a few more hours, as we waited to hear how the surgery went, my dad only talked to Jesse. They hugged a few more times, and then Jesse took the seat beside me. He relayed everything my father told him.

After the sixth hour of being there, the doctor came out. My father motioned for Jesse to approach the doctor with him. And again, Jesse came back to me. The surgery had gone well. My mother would be held for observation and placed under suicide watch. Jesse explained the same thing my dad had mentioned earlier, that a hospital worker would be with her at all times of the day. She would be watched in a one-on-one capacity while she healed until the psychologists felt she was no longer a danger to herself.

It’d be weeks before she would return home.

I knew the instant my father had told Jesse that. The relief in his eyes was unmistakable, and as Jesse explained it all to me, I shared the same sentiment.

I could be at home and not feel her emptiness.

Finally.

I could only feel my own then since my father was rarely home. He spent most of his time at the office, and now I knew he’d spend the rest of the time at the hospital with my mother.

A different sense of numbness settled in me as Jesse bundled me back in my coat. After he hugged my father another time, and after my dad thumped him on the back, with his voice full of emotion as he thanked him for coming, I was led back to that same elevator.

We were leaving again, but this time my mother was still alive. Ethan had died. My mother would live.

I didn’t feel any of it.

When we got to my home, Jesse sat me at the kitchen table. A cup of water was placed in front of me, along with some toast. I nibbled on a piece because he had that determined look in his eyes. When I was done and shoved the plate aside, Jesse sighed, but he took it to the sink and then led me by my hand to my room.

No words were shared as I got ready for bed. At one point, my fingers couldn’t undo my zipper so Jesse helped undress me. Then he found my pajamas and helped me put them on. When I felt the warm cloth material against my skin, my eyes closed. I readied myself. He would leave soon. I looked at the bed. I already knew I wouldn’t sleep at all. But then he took his sweater off and found an old shirt that he had left the first time we’d been together. He slipped it over his head and undid his pants. When he saw that I was staring, he gave me a crooked grin.

“You thought I was going to leave?”

I nodded. I couldn’t speak. I hadn’t been able to since the phone call.

Then he cupped both sides of my face and stepped close. He lifted my head so I met his gaze. They sparkled in the moonlight as he promised, “I will stay as long as you need me.”

I choked out, my voice raw and painful, “I thought you’d leave. There’s a lot of feeling tonight.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek. It was a tender gesture. “Not for you. You turned it off tonight, didn’t you?”

Then the tears came. I couldn’t stop them. I didn’t know what unleashed them, but they fell free like a waterfall.

Jesse cursed under his breath, but held me against him. He rocked me back and forth for awhile until he picked me up and laid me in bed. I fell asleep tucked in his arms with more tears on my cheeks. Sometime during the night, I woke. The tears had dried on my face, but I brushed them away and found that I was alone in the bed.