“Oh yeah? I’m a wounded vet now, shortcake. I think I’ll need some extra attention.”
She sits up and rolls her eyes at me, slowly sliding up and down my shaft. The feeling makes me moan, and she knows exactly what she’s doing. She looks down into my eyes, and I can feel us clicking into place again. Like two lost puzzle pieces being put back together. I’ve got my girl, and all’s right with the world.
* * *
* * *
* * *
3 a.m.
I wake up, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. I realize I’m standing and my ears are ringing. I look around the room and see that it’s trashed. It looks like someone took a bat to the furniture and broke everything that wasn’t nailed down.
“Julie.” The word is dry in my throat, and I’m having flashbacks of trying to talk in the hospital. The room is spinning, and I look around, desperately trying to find her.
I hear something in the corner of the room and look over to see her crouched and naked, huddled with her back pressed against the wall.
“Julie, baby, what happened?”
As I reach for her, I see the blood on my hands. It’s all over both of them, and I don’t know how it got there.
“Abe, please don’t,” she whispers, and I look to see her push herself further into the corner.
I stand up, blinking a few times, trying to remember where I am. Suddenly, flashes of my nightmares come back to me, and I realize I did this. I must have been dreaming about the bomb and destroyed the room when I was sleeping.
“Oh fuck.” I go back to Julie, and she’s still huddled tight in the corner. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I swear I won’t hurt you.” As the words come out of my mouth, I realize I don’t know if they’re true. “Jesus, Julie, did I hurt you?”
I look down and see a little blood on her legs, but I don’t know if that’s from something I broke or if I physically put my hands on her. My stomach flips, and I start to dry heave. I’m going to be sick. I get up off the floor and run to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time. “Oh God, what have I done?”
I hear movement in the other room, and I know what I need to do. I walk back out and grab my bag, throwing on jeans and a t-shirt. I glance over at Julie, and I see she’s got a sheet wrapped around her, and there’s blood on it too. Seeing it makes me want to vomit all over again.
“Abe—”
“Don’t. I was wrong to come after you. This was a mistake.”
“A mistake? What are you saying? What are you doing? You didn’t hurt me! It’s your blood on my legs and on the sheet. It came off your hands when you were trashing the place. I was scared. You woke up and just started tearing the room apart, and I couldn’t get you to stop. Please, Abe.”
I look up and see the tears running down her face. She looks so beautiful, yet so broken. I can’t do this to her again. I don’t know how much I hurt her this time, but I can’t risk going there again. I was selfish for trying to get her back. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why would I do this to the one person on this goddamn earth I love more than anything? More than my own fucked-up life. I would do anything for her, but I can’t stay. I need to really free her from me. She needs to move on from me, forget she even knew me. Maybe I even need her to hate me. That would make it easier for her. Words my brain are telling me to say but my heart don’t mean pour from my mouth, knowing it’s for the best.
“Our marriage was a mistake. The dream I had of us and babies and forever, it was all a mistake. It’s over, Julie. I’m not the man you met, and I’ve been pretending ever since I got back that I’m not some goddamn monster.”
“Abraham, please, please don’t do this. Don’t do this to me again. Please don’t push me away. I’m your wife. We can work through this together. We can get you help.”
“I tried that!” I scream. “I tried every fucking thing there was and it didn’t work. It’s over, Julie. I’m not your husband and you’re not my wife. We don’t get a happily ever after. Our story ends here.”
She runs to me and tries to hold on to me, but I grab my bag, step back, and throw my hands up. “Don’t touch me, Julie. I’m nothing but poison. You were always too fucking good for me.”
I turn around and walk out of the room without looking back. But before the door slams shut, I hear the sobs ripping from her chest. I hear every sound of her hitting the floor, wailing for me to come back to her. I hear her heart break in two, and I know in that moment, I’ll have all-new nightmares for the rest of my life.
Chapter Sixteen
JULIE
The next day
It took me four hours of talking to the cops to convince them that my husband—who left me on our wedding night—was the one who trashed the room, but that I didn’t want to report it as a crime or press any charges. I had to call my parents and get them to pay for the damages to the room before they would let me leave the police station since my credit card didn’t cover the costs.
Apparently, someone heard what happened. That, combined with my crying, led them to call the manager of the hotel, who then showed up to find me in my situation. Luckily, I don’t remember much.
I’m like a fucking zombie, on auto pilot, and as soon as the cab pulls up outside my parents’ house, they’re there with open arms to help me to my room.