22. Chapter 22
Jake
The weather matches my mood this morning—dark and stormy. The rain is lashing against the roof and windows. Bella is staring forlornly out the back door, knowing a walk is not in her future today.
It’s been three weeks since I last saw Lottie properly, and enough is enough. She’s hardly left her room except to eat and use the bathroom—she’s not even come out to see the girls. I’ve heard her on the phone to Wren, so that’s something, I guess.
When I spoke to Kayla about what was happening, she told me to just barge in, but what if she was naked? I can’t just encroach on her private space. Kayla’s response?
“Well, if she was naked, it would be your lucky day, Jakey boy”.
Although Lottie’s stayed a recluse in her room, I haven’t left, unable to stomach the thought of her being alone. So, I’ve stayed in the spare room. I couldn't bear the thought of her having another one of those nightmares and not having anyone—well, me—near to comfort her.
I’ve been nothing but patient with Lottie, but my patience has run out. Louisa and David would hate to know their daughter has shut herself away, too consumed by her grief, so I have to get her out of this. I need to coax Lottie out of her room, and the only way is to make her think I’ve left.
So, with some stellar acting on my part—genuinely, I could win an Oscar for my performance—I call out to Bella, telling her I’m going to the gym with the guys and I’ll be back later. I open the front door and close it then stealthily tiptoe to the kitchen island and wait for Lottie to come out.
I’m not waiting long before she limps out on her crutches and stops dead when she sees me with my arms crossed over my chest.
“So, you are avoiding me. It’s not just my imagination.”
“J-Jake, I thought you’d gone.” Her eyes dart around the room, looking everywhere but at me.
“Yep, I got that. Why are you hiding from me? From everyone?” I ask.
Her lip quivers and she moves closer to me before doing the one thing I would never expect of Lottie—she beats her tiny fists against my chest. I stumble, not because she’s strong, but because I wasn’t expecting it. If this is what she needs, though, then she can go ahead.
“This what you need, Lottie? Tell me everything you’re feeling. Hit me, shout at me, do whatever you need to do to feel better. I need my girl back.”
“I’m not your girl. I can’t even remember you,” she spits out while still beating her fists against me.
The words sting more than her physical jabs; they cut through my skin like glass.
“Why wasn’t it me?”
Tears are streaming down her face and she’s hiccupping as she tries to get her words out.
“I feel guilty for surviving when it should have been me that was taken. Not them. Not my parents. Why did it have to be them and not me?” she screeches out.
She’s inconsolable. My own tears have started now, and I’m unable to stop them.
“Lottie, lean on me. Let me help you, sweetheart. Please,” I choke out.
She looks up at me, eyes full of fire as she delivers her final blow.
“You don’t know what it’s like to grieve like this. You have no idea what I’m going through.”
That stops me dead in my tracks, and all of a sudden, I am filled with hurt and anger at her barbs. I know she doesn’t mean it, but it’s the last straw for me. My eyes squeeze shut as I try to compose myself, but it’s no use.
I grab her wrists off my chest and look her dead in the eye.
“I don’t know grief? I don’t know fucking grief? I lost my dad, Lottie. Yes it may have been nearly 10 years ago, but I still feel it as strongly as the day he passed.”
Tears continue to trickle down my face, and I’m barely hanging on by a thread.
“I’m also grieving every day for you. I’m grieving for the friendship we used to have, for the Lottie I know is still in there somewhere. I grieve every day that you can’t fucking remember me. So don’t you dare tell me I don’t know grief!”
I’m out of breath, my chest heaving. The next thing I know, her arms are around my waist and we’re sliding to the floor, a trembling Lottie on my lap, her head in my neck and my head resting against hers as we cry together.
Silence stretches, neither one of us daring to say anything to break the tension between us. It’s so palpable right now you could cut it with a knife.
Surprisingly, Lottie is the first to speak.
“I’m so sorry, Jake. I didn’t mean that. I’m just so lost,” she whimpers into me, and I hold her a little tighter, rocking back and forth.
“Your parents wouldn’t want this for you, Lottie, they would want you to make the most of your life. Do you think we could try?”
She gives me a small jerk of her head. “I’d like to try. Can we start over? You never know, some of my memories may come back?”
Wiping the tears from each other’s faces, I cup her cheeks in my palm and say, “I’d love nothing more, Lotts.”
Now the air has been cleared, it’s like a weight has been lifted off both mine and Lottie’s shoulders, and we can start getting to know each other all over again. Well, she can; I already know everything there is to know, but I can pretend for her sake. And who knows, it may unlock something.
Lifting us off the floor and setting Lottie on a chair with a bottle of water, I ask, “Are you hungry? I’m going to make some scrambled eggs if you’d like some.”
She takes a swig of her water.
“That would be great, thank you.”
I’m awarded with a genuine smile that lights up the entire room, one I haven’t seen in a really long time.
We eat our eggs and, even though we’re silent while we do, the atmosphere has changed.
Lottie’s shoulders are more relaxed, and that frown line of hers is a little less prominent.
It’s gone from unbearable to comfortable.
Just knowing Lottie wants to be in the same room as me without running off is a win.
Looking out the window again, I notice the rain has gotten worse and it’s like a biblical storm out there.
As the waves crash violently against the shore, the thought of going out makes me want to hide under the covers, but I need to get a workout in.
It may be the off season, but I have to keep myself in shape.
Normally, I’d work out while Lottie was at PT, but today is her rest day, so it's just me that has to go out in this god-awful weather.
As I grab my gym bag, I remember the gift I purchased for Lottie. I hesitate for a moment, but surely I’m fine to give her a present now we’re ok?
“I almost forgot, I got you something,” I say while rubbing the back of my neck as I hold out the gift in my other hand.
A hint of pink stains her cheeks as she reaches forward and opens the packaging. Inside is a brand-new, leather-bound journal to replace the one destroyed in the accident.
“Oh my god, Jake, it’s beautiful.”
Her hands run over the cover and she holds it to her chest like a prized possession.
“Thank you so much.”
Now it’s time for my cheeks to heat. This girl turns me into a blushing teenager.
“You’re welcome. I hope you like it.”
“Like it? I love it. It’s so thoughtful.”
Lottie flings her arms around me, and I pull her in closer.
It’s been so long since I’ve been able to hold her like this, and I miss it.
I bring my nose to her hair, memorizing the smell of peaches and vanilla.
Slowly, it starts to feel like the fragments of my heart that were shattered will start to mend again.