This Regret
Page 103
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He stops but doesn't turn around. "She still is and always will be." He takes a step then turns around. "Thank you," he whispers. Then he walks away jumping into the ambulance.
I clutch the necklace to my chest and fall into Tyler's arms, crying over things that even I can't understand. My heart hurts so much. I'm so confused.
I'm so lost. I need Kellan . . .
Chapter Twenty-Three
Phoenix
The ceiling . . . it's such an ugly shade of brown, yet I've been lying in bed staring at it for the last three days, dead inside. Void of any emotions. It's been a week since I've found out Kellan is gone. You know how they say time heals all wounds? Well that’s a crock of shit. It doesn’t heal anything. You just bleed out slowly from a puncture wound in the center of your heart. I spent the first four days moping around work, messing up orders and pissing off customers; my passion for being a good employee dead along with my heart. How do you continue living normally when your reason for living has disappeared? Dale finally got tired of the complaints and sent me home until I sort my shit out. Oh Dale . . . can’t have anything that’s bad for business.
The next three days I spent in the comfort of my bed, staring at the old man’s silver necklace. It’s a long dainty chain with a silver inscribed locket. The back reads My dearest Allison. At first I couldn’t open it because I felt like I was invading some kind of unspoken privacy, but the old man and his daughter have been the only other thing on my mind besides Kellan. I wish I could just shut my mind off, but it’s impossible so I finally opened it. On one side is a picture of a little girl around the age of five, smiling big with her two front teeth missing. On the opposite side was the same girl at the age of about eighteen. It must have been a senior portrait. She was beautiful and the man was right; she does resemble me. I cried some more on top of everything else. Is it too much to ask for some happiness in all this sadness?
With Zoe staying at her friend's house for the week, it's been just my mother and I. She's been moping around on the couch while I've been holed up in this room, closed off from the world I want nothing to do with at the moment.
The only good thing that's happened over the last week is that my mother has managed to slow down on her drinking and has become more responsive than I have seen her since she's moved in. It seems she’s a few years too late, but I guess better late than never. I know I should be making an effort to talk to her, but I'm in no shape to communicate with anyone but the ceiling. We have a good thing going. I just talk and it just listens. No thinking required. It doesn't judge me or the shell I'm living in. Right now, I just want to be alone.
The next morning, I wake up to Zoe standing above me with a disgusted look on her face as she takes me in. She plops down on the end of the messy bed and tosses her notebook down beside her. I cover my face with the blankets in my sorry attempt of an escape. "What the hell died in your bed?"
Yanking the covers back, Zoe's nose twitches as she tosses the blankets off the bed and into a pile, probably giving me a clue to wash them. "This room smells like sweat and feet. Maybe even a dead animal. When was the last time you got out of bed? You better not be turning into mom. I need you, Phoenix. I leave for a week and this is what I come back to."
I run my fingers through my hair realizing just how greasy and gross it feels. It’s stuck to my head and slightly matted. I make myself sick. I can only imagine how Zoe views me at the moment. Lying here in Kellan's shirt I'd stolen, boxer shorts and ratty hair with raccoon eyes and I thought our mother was the weak one. At least with her, she tried to stick it out and stayed married for over twenty-eight years. I did this to myself. I am the one that walked out on the most important person to me. What did I have to show for it besides a few crazy nights of sex and me longing over a guy for over ten years? She has great reason to feel as shitty as she does. Me . . . I'm just pathetic; trying to hold onto something that was never truly was mine to begin with.
"Zoe, I don't feel good, okay?" I grab my pillow and smash it over my face in an attempt to drown out her whiny voice. I don't like her seeing me like this. "Don't you have things to go do? I'm sure it's a nice day out. Just let me rest for one more day."
I feel the pillow being pried from my fingers and I fight as hard as I can against her firm grip, but it's no use. I haven't even eaten since my head hit the pillow. Nothing sounds appetizing, not even chicken. I've only gotten up to use the bathroom and not by choice. Yes, I'm gross. Three days without any food or a shower. The only nutrients I’ve had is bottled water I've piled up next to my bed. I'm weak and I stink. Even I know that. Maybe I should have just drowned myself in the bottles of water.
"Dammit, Phoenix! Something's wrong with you. I stopped by Spinner's the other day and Jen told me you've taken the last few days off of work. She wouldn't tell me why. A friend of mine, Micah, wanted to take me out to lunch so I asked him to take me to your work so he could meet you." Her tiny hands shove me. "Talk to me, please. You’re scaring me."
She frowns as I place my hands over my face to hide the tears that are now falling. I've gone one whole week without crying; just walking around completely numb to my feelings. Knowing that I disappoint even my little sister hurts like hell. I never want to disappoint her. "I'm sorry, Zoe. I really want to meet your friend someday; just not now," I whisper. "Please don't be mad. I just can't right now. I can't."
I feel her arms come around my neck before her face presses against the top of my head. "It's okay, I'm not mad. I don't like to see you like this. You're the strong one, remember? Whatever happened will be okay. I'm not stupid; I know you're not sick. You never get sick and when you do you always fight your way to work no matter who you have to karate chop to get there. You're the strong one." She keeps saying it as if she’s trying to remind not only me but herself as well.
I sit there silently, not wanting to admit that she's right. I'm not sick and the whole world knows it. I'm the fifteen year old Phoenix all over again. That devastated little girl that couldn't handle life and manage without my boys by my side. I can only hide for so long before I start hurting the people around me. I'm not Kellan, I don't want to hurt the ones I love.
I clutch the necklace to my chest and fall into Tyler's arms, crying over things that even I can't understand. My heart hurts so much. I'm so confused.
I'm so lost. I need Kellan . . .
Chapter Twenty-Three
Phoenix
The ceiling . . . it's such an ugly shade of brown, yet I've been lying in bed staring at it for the last three days, dead inside. Void of any emotions. It's been a week since I've found out Kellan is gone. You know how they say time heals all wounds? Well that’s a crock of shit. It doesn’t heal anything. You just bleed out slowly from a puncture wound in the center of your heart. I spent the first four days moping around work, messing up orders and pissing off customers; my passion for being a good employee dead along with my heart. How do you continue living normally when your reason for living has disappeared? Dale finally got tired of the complaints and sent me home until I sort my shit out. Oh Dale . . . can’t have anything that’s bad for business.
The next three days I spent in the comfort of my bed, staring at the old man’s silver necklace. It’s a long dainty chain with a silver inscribed locket. The back reads My dearest Allison. At first I couldn’t open it because I felt like I was invading some kind of unspoken privacy, but the old man and his daughter have been the only other thing on my mind besides Kellan. I wish I could just shut my mind off, but it’s impossible so I finally opened it. On one side is a picture of a little girl around the age of five, smiling big with her two front teeth missing. On the opposite side was the same girl at the age of about eighteen. It must have been a senior portrait. She was beautiful and the man was right; she does resemble me. I cried some more on top of everything else. Is it too much to ask for some happiness in all this sadness?
With Zoe staying at her friend's house for the week, it's been just my mother and I. She's been moping around on the couch while I've been holed up in this room, closed off from the world I want nothing to do with at the moment.
The only good thing that's happened over the last week is that my mother has managed to slow down on her drinking and has become more responsive than I have seen her since she's moved in. It seems she’s a few years too late, but I guess better late than never. I know I should be making an effort to talk to her, but I'm in no shape to communicate with anyone but the ceiling. We have a good thing going. I just talk and it just listens. No thinking required. It doesn't judge me or the shell I'm living in. Right now, I just want to be alone.
The next morning, I wake up to Zoe standing above me with a disgusted look on her face as she takes me in. She plops down on the end of the messy bed and tosses her notebook down beside her. I cover my face with the blankets in my sorry attempt of an escape. "What the hell died in your bed?"
Yanking the covers back, Zoe's nose twitches as she tosses the blankets off the bed and into a pile, probably giving me a clue to wash them. "This room smells like sweat and feet. Maybe even a dead animal. When was the last time you got out of bed? You better not be turning into mom. I need you, Phoenix. I leave for a week and this is what I come back to."
I run my fingers through my hair realizing just how greasy and gross it feels. It’s stuck to my head and slightly matted. I make myself sick. I can only imagine how Zoe views me at the moment. Lying here in Kellan's shirt I'd stolen, boxer shorts and ratty hair with raccoon eyes and I thought our mother was the weak one. At least with her, she tried to stick it out and stayed married for over twenty-eight years. I did this to myself. I am the one that walked out on the most important person to me. What did I have to show for it besides a few crazy nights of sex and me longing over a guy for over ten years? She has great reason to feel as shitty as she does. Me . . . I'm just pathetic; trying to hold onto something that was never truly was mine to begin with.
"Zoe, I don't feel good, okay?" I grab my pillow and smash it over my face in an attempt to drown out her whiny voice. I don't like her seeing me like this. "Don't you have things to go do? I'm sure it's a nice day out. Just let me rest for one more day."
I feel the pillow being pried from my fingers and I fight as hard as I can against her firm grip, but it's no use. I haven't even eaten since my head hit the pillow. Nothing sounds appetizing, not even chicken. I've only gotten up to use the bathroom and not by choice. Yes, I'm gross. Three days without any food or a shower. The only nutrients I’ve had is bottled water I've piled up next to my bed. I'm weak and I stink. Even I know that. Maybe I should have just drowned myself in the bottles of water.
"Dammit, Phoenix! Something's wrong with you. I stopped by Spinner's the other day and Jen told me you've taken the last few days off of work. She wouldn't tell me why. A friend of mine, Micah, wanted to take me out to lunch so I asked him to take me to your work so he could meet you." Her tiny hands shove me. "Talk to me, please. You’re scaring me."
She frowns as I place my hands over my face to hide the tears that are now falling. I've gone one whole week without crying; just walking around completely numb to my feelings. Knowing that I disappoint even my little sister hurts like hell. I never want to disappoint her. "I'm sorry, Zoe. I really want to meet your friend someday; just not now," I whisper. "Please don't be mad. I just can't right now. I can't."
I feel her arms come around my neck before her face presses against the top of my head. "It's okay, I'm not mad. I don't like to see you like this. You're the strong one, remember? Whatever happened will be okay. I'm not stupid; I know you're not sick. You never get sick and when you do you always fight your way to work no matter who you have to karate chop to get there. You're the strong one." She keeps saying it as if she’s trying to remind not only me but herself as well.
I sit there silently, not wanting to admit that she's right. I'm not sick and the whole world knows it. I'm the fifteen year old Phoenix all over again. That devastated little girl that couldn't handle life and manage without my boys by my side. I can only hide for so long before I start hurting the people around me. I'm not Kellan, I don't want to hurt the ones I love.
