In the Stillness(26)

Reaching back as far as I can, I slap Eric across the face with all the force I can muster. “You’re a f*cking bastard. This isn’t about Lucas, or Ryker, or Tosha. It’s about you. It’s about us. We’re f*cking broken, Eric, and I feel trapped. You’re the reason I do this.” I stand with my half-lie and walk toward the hallway. He doesn’t stop me this time.

“Do I need to call your mom or something?” He’s genuinely concerned. He would call my mother. That scares the shit out of me.

I turn slowly, keeping my fear in check. “If you call my mother about this, Eric, you’ll never see your boys again. I’ll make damn sure of it.”

I don’t wait to watch his face melt into pain before I continue to the bedroom and slam the door behind me.

What. The f*ck. Now?





Chapter 13





I didn’t sleep at all last night. I sat cross-legged on my bed, waiting for Eric to come in and call my bluff. For him to fight. Something.

Shit.

Sneaking quietly past the boys’ room, I find Eric sleeping on the couch as I start the coffee.

“We need to talk about last night.” I jump at his voice. He clearly wasn’t sleeping.

“I don’t really know what there is to talk about.”

“Are you f*cking kidding me, Natalie?” Eric whispers as he walks toward me. He never swears.

“You’re an *. I’ve been living in my own personal hell for the last six months, and the first time you notice anything is off you blame it on my ex-boyfriend? Not only do you accuse me of cheating, but you understand me so little that you think, somehow, he’s the reason I cut myself?”

Eric’s eyes fill with tears. “I love you, Natalie. I don’t want you hurting yourself-”

“And I don’t want to feel the way I’m feeling. I don’t want to live this life we’re living. Only one of us can win here, Eric.” I push the “start” button on the coffee maker. Eric wraps his arms around my waist; I wiggle free.

“What?” he asks.

“I don’t want you to touch me. A hug isn’t going to fix this. I don’t even know if I want it to be fixed.”

“What do you mean you don’t know if you want it fixed? You want to cut yourself?”

I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. I can’t believe I was so reckless as to let my husband find out I’ve been cutting. Shouldn’t I be more ashamed of the cutting than the fact that he found out?

I sigh. “No, Eric, I don’t want to keep cutting.” I force myself to say it, even though I don’t totally believe it. “What I’m not sure of,” I continue, “is us.”

Just then, the boys open their bedroom door and race down the hallway screaming “Daddy!” because he’s never home when they wake up these days.

“Hey guys!” Eric turns up his daddy-charm and sinks to the floor as the boys crash into his body. I’d be that cheerful with them, too, if I only saw them a few days a week. “Okay, monsters, why don’t you sit down in the chair and Daddy will turn on the TV. I’ve gotta talk to Mommy for a sec, okay?”

I’m already in the bedroom when Eric starts down the hall.

Crossing my arms defensively in front of me, I ask, “What?”

“Do you want to leave me, Natalie?” he whispers as he closes the door behind him.

“I don’t know.” I shrug, looking down at his bare feet. “It was an awful thing you said. About Ryker—”

His tone instantly fills with malice as he cuts me off, “You think you can use my children as a threat against me?”

“It’s not a threat, Eric.” I meet his eyes and refuse to look away. He doesn’t intimidate me, but I don’t like the seriousness in his eyes.

“Well,” he continues, “I’d like you to tell me what court in their right mind would give custody to an unemployed mother who cuts herself for fun.”

I know he regrets it as soon as he says it; his eyes give him away every single time. The fact that it was even in his heart to say it, though, is enough to send me into a blind rage. Rage and fear that I haven’t felt for a long time.

*

Lucas’s funeral was the worst thing I’ve ever been to in my life. Ryker was still in the hospital—supposed to be released soon—so Tosha went with me, and we stood with Ryker’s dad.

God, it was awful.

People my age were standing in sobbing clusters, and it was all I could do not to throw up. When the soldiers handed Lucas’s parents the flag from his coffin, I swear I thought I was going to pass out. My knees buckled a little, until I felt Ryker’s dad’s arm hook around my waist. He held me steady and kissed the top of my head. I felt sick and relieved at the same time. Ryker was going to come home. It wasn’t his funeral. But, it was his best friend’s and he was missing it. He saw him die.

It was a fight to get my parents to “let” me go to Lucas’s funeral in the first place. The semester was over and I was taking finals. My mom thought that going to a funeral would ruin my semester. Well, it was already ruined, given that someone I considered a friend was sent home from the war in pieces. And, screw her. The bigger fight, however, came a week after the funeral, when they called to discuss what day they’d help me move my stuff home.