Once Xander stomps out of the cabin and apparently out of my life, again, I immediately jump into action. My heart begs my body to chase after him but my mind decides it would be best to leave this devastating situation. Even though I can hardly see what I’m doing, I stumble around the small house on autopilot while my eyes keep shedding tears. My insides are twisting painfully as I force myself to gather my stuff. My duffle is hastily packed and thrown over my shoulder in a few minutes before I’m striding out the door.
I hop into my car, which hasn’t moved since I first arrived, and spit snowy gravel in my hurry to get gone. The road blurs in front of me since I’m crying so hard, which makes me feel reckless in a terrible way. The tires swerve off the road so I wrench hard the wheel, which sends my car skidding into the opposite lane. My foot slams on the gas and the rear end fishtails before I can correct it. I know how dangerous driving in my current condition is so I pull over on the next wide shoulder. The last thing I want to do is delay my departure but my responsible side wins out.
I give myself five solid minutes to let it all freaking out. I’m covered in snot and tears as I sob without limits. I bang my fists on the steering wheel as I curse Xander for being so inflexible. I scream at the injustice I feel and all the obstacles standing in our way. I’m consumed by overwhelming agony as I realize that this is probably the end for us. He was so freaking serious about wanting me gone. He wants to be nothing and my soul splits in half as the separation becomes reality. I am totally heartbroken.
How can I go back to the way things were before I reconnected with Xander? Like I don’t know he’s back and within driving distance. Pretend I don’t know about his tattoo or the scars marring his beautiful body. As though everything we’ve exchanged didn’t happen or was completely meaningless. Am I expected to just forget why he became a recluse? These depressing thoughts crush my pulverized heart even further.
I release a few more sniffles while I dig a wad of tissues from my purse. I dry my face and take some cleansing breaths so I can continue on my merry fracking way. My guts are drowning in misery while my body continues to fall down the bottomless pit of pain. My head aches from my nonstop sobbing and the exhaustion attacks my limbs. I am so ready for this day to be done.
After I’ve forced my mind to remain blank for at least thirty minutes, I’m able to get back on the road to go home. It only takes a few moments until thoughts of Xander slowly trickle back in. I reflect on how instant his hostility was triggered. As soon I brought up needing to leave, it seemed like a switch was flipped and the Xander I originally confronted was back in action.
There was no getting through to him and he shut me out before I could further explain my plan. I desperately wanted him to listen but his defenses were locked firmly in place. Xander didn’t want to hear me because he was lost in the battle. I could almost see shutters slamming down over his ocean eyes and he became totally detached all over again. I wanted to yell and demand he stop the completely unnecessary regression.
I’m already filled with worry about how he will cope by himself. Xander believes no one clearly understands the magnitude of what he’s dealing with, but he hasn’t tried any therapeutic options lately. What will he do now?
My heart races as my mind conjures up horrible images of him suffering alone. He sounded so vulnerable that I wished so badly the rest of my days could be spent out there with him but that doesn’t seem like an option anymore.
I understand that Xander’s trauma plays an enormous role in his behavior but I figured we’d progressed beyond the point where it would be an issue. Why can’t he trust in our bond? My chest burns and my stomach is a tangle of knots. I have no clue what to do. Completely removing myself from his life seems impossible so maybe I could offer support by utilizing my professional training. If he isn’t interested in our romantic relationship anymore, perhaps he would be open to me helping him in other ways.
My chest constricts at the idea of going back to just friends, or even worse, but I don’t see other options at this point.
——-
Two days have gone by and time has only exacerbated the situation with Xander. Not like I’ve spoken to him but my mood continues to plummet the longer I’m away. Even though he carved a hollow cavern in my chest, my entire being aches for the man who effectively decimated me. I’m broken beyond freaking repair because of him but I can’t help worrying about the jerk.
Every moment we shared plays on a continuous loop and I find myself constantly crying. I recall the lazy mornings when we resisted getting out of bed. The active afternoons full of long hikes and lost conversations we should have had years ago. I obsess over the endless nights of making love and finally being together the way we were always meant to. Those were the best days of my life and I fear I won’t get more to cherish.
I’ve tried distracting my mind but my heart is banging a persistent beat that is hard to ignore. I miss him with such ferocity that I’m sure I’ll never recover. I’m a total wreck as my life cracks further apart the longer I am away from him. I can’t seem to do much of anything without wishing he was next to me. There is a Xander-sized hole in my life that no one else can fill.
I have a life here in the city, complete with a full time job and a mortgage on my house, so my responsible side pushed me to take care of my obligations. I quickly learned the error in my ways since I am useless without my heart. Life will always be where Xander is, no matter what crazy crap I tried feeding myself after I first left. I was upset and angry that he threw our love away but now I’m flooded with guilt. I’ve let him down and left him out there to struggle without anyone to support him. In my absence, he will allow the demons to regain their grasp.
I’m worthless at work, wasting precious oxygen. I’m here physically but mentally I’m back with Xander in the woods. I’m a zombie only awake courtesy of copious amounts of caffeine and the fact I can’t freaking sleep.
My co-worker has me facilitating a group alongside her but I haven’t spoken a word since I sat down. If I wasn’t already feeling dejected, my counterproductive behavior would throw me off the ledge. I’m being a stellar role model for these teenagers.
I’m yanked out of my hazy musings when Lark claps her hands directly in front of my face. I jerk backward and almost topple out of the chair. My palm smacks over my mouth as I swallow a scream. My pulse is erratic and I decide this could be my tipping point.
“Seriously, Lark!” I whisper-yell so I don’t freak out any of the kids. I glance around and realize we are the only ones in the room. “Wait. Where did everyone go?” The confusion in my tone is evident.
Lark huffs in annoyance before making a shooing gesture. “Let’s talk in your office, Mopey. Get going.”
I lead the way for our short walk down the hall. I open my door and let her through before taking a seat behind my desk. My hands are shaking so I clasp them tightly in my lap. When I glance up, Lark has an expectant look on her face.
“What?” I decide to go with an ignorance angle.
“Dude. What the actual fuck? I know you’re a very empathetic person but sobbing in the middle of group is a tad excessive.” Lark’s potty mouth reminds me of Xander, which causes me to start crying all over again. When she notices my tears, she shakes her head and puffs out an aggressive exhale.
I wipe under my puffy eyes before responding. “I know, Lark. I’m a freaking disaster. Clearly. I just need a minute to get my crap together before I get back in the routine.”
Her arched eyebrow and severe frown says it all.
“You need a lot more than that, honey. You’ve been wandering around here like you’ve lost your will to keep your head up. What gives? Don’t you dare try to lie. I just watched you stare blankly at the wall for an entire hour.” Lark’s scowl becomes more pronounced the longer I hesitate.
I think it over and decide it might help to vent. She understands how important it is to process through difficult situations. Lark will tell me how it is and kick my butt into gear.
“So, remember when I told you about Xander?” I blurt the words out and cringe after uttering his name.
Lark releases a high-pitched screech that would send dogs howling for safety. “I freaking knew this was about a guy! Is that where you’ve been all this time? No wonder you’re a hot mess. I want all the deets. Spill.”
Gosh, she is sassy.
Just talking to Lark brightens my mood slightly, whether I like it or not. I scrub my hands over my blotchy face before diving into my drama.
“Xander disappeared after heading overseas for his deployment, right? Well, I found out from my mom a few weeks ago that he was back in Minnesota. I had no idea since I haven’t freaking heard from him after all this time. She convinced me to visit the house where he’s staying.”
Lark is happily eating up my words so I’m encouraged to continue.
“When I got there, it did not go well. Think of the Beast when Beauty first shows up. I was overjoyed to see him alive but he was an unrecognizable savage. He was horrible to me right away. All he did was growl and yell. We were best friends but the guy I used to know was nowhere in sight. After Xander got all angry and territorial of his privacy, I tried to leave. Remember when we got all that snow?”
She nods enthusiastically and motions with her hands to keep going.
“Right. Well, that was the day I spent over three hours getting there only to have him immediately turn me away. Worst part was, I ended up stuck in his freaking driveway. I’m talking wheel spinning, no way in heck I was leaving. Xander managed to pull his head far enough out of his butt to help me but it was a constant battle.” I begin with that first hostile encounter and gradually unravel my past two weeks, making sure to gloss over the intimate details. I was willing to share but I wasn’t one to kiss and tell.
Lark doesn’t say a word the entire time I speak, except appropriately placed gasps and shocked exclamations. When I get to the final fight that caused me to flee, her eyes are glossy and brimming with understanding. Dredging up all those details leaves me more drained and exposed, which allows the hurt to rain down on me.
Lark puffs out a frustrated breath before crossing her arms in a defensive gesture. “This is exactly why I don’t have a boyfriend. You get all dependent and . . . blah! Just look at how screwed up you are. You’re so sad and glum but consider yourself lucky. People can’t hide their crazy forever and Xander sounds like a tough nut.”
“Urgh. That’s real nice, Lark. Seriously, you know better than to make assumptions. Remind me why we’re friends?” I scold her for picking on Xander but I know she’s trying to be supportive. “And you don’t have a man because you’re a workaholic. Plus, you get bored easily and have no shame letting your insanity hang out. Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten about New Year’s Eve.” She’s so ridiculous that I can’t help letting a little laugh escape.
This girl might live for her job but that doesn’t stop her from getting wild sometimes. I’ve witnessed Lark black-out drunk a few times, and let’s just say she doesn’t require privacy once she finds a guy that tickles her fancy. She also seems to attract drama in the form of girl-fights but whatever.
I’m thankful to her for lifting my spirits but once I take notice of my improved attitude, my stomach cramps and my chest tightens. I feel guilty because I’m sure Xander is struggling. My heart pleads with me to forget everything else and go to him. My mind scolds the pesky love-obsessed organ and reminds me that he made his choice. The worry still floats around me like a dense fog no matter what I think though.
Who does he have out there to help him?
Lark senses my downward spiral so she quickly intervenes. “You bring up a really great point. My job has taken over my life and I could use a break. And obviously you’re in need of a serious distraction. We’re going out for drinks. If we leave now, we can still catch happy hour.”
“What? No! You can’t be serious. Were you not listening to me just now? I’m not in the right frame of mind to be out in public. I couldn’t even participate in group and I love leading those sessions. Plus, it’s a freaking Tuesday.” I refuse to spend the evening drowning my sorrows with booze.
“If we don’t go, what will you do instead? Sit at home alone and think about Xander nonstop. How is that helpful? You need to escape for a few hours and loosen up. It will also give me a chance to leave the office before five o’clock for a change. Win-win! Come on, Willow.” Her amber eyes plead with me and I can’t find the strength to fight her. I really don’t want to hang out in a bar but it does sound better than another night sobbing into my pillow.
“I have a feeling I’ll regret this but all right. I’m mostly agreeing for your sake though.” I tip up my lips in an attempt to smile but it feels super fake.
Lark is instantly giddy and eagerly bouncing in her chair. Her puppy-dog gaze is long forgotten.
She zips out the door before I can even consider changing my mind so I start packing up my stuff. My thoughts effortlessly drift to Xander and wonder what he’s doing right now. I’m immediately swallowed by guilt when I imagine what he’s going through, but he made it extremely clear he didn’t want me around.
I’m not sure how long my responsible side will hold out against the gravitational pull to the boondocks.
I’m only so strong and I’ve always been weak where Xander is concerned.