SIX
Madelyn
Bliss. That’s the only word I can use to describe the week we spent at the B I’ve been making a list of any other necessities.
My mom insisted we have a housewarming party this weekend. I was against it at first. It’s only been a week since the wedding, and I don’t want people to feel obligated to bring gifts. Mom wasn’t hearing any of that “nonsense,” so I caved and agreed to the party.
Apparently, everyone wants to get to know my new husband. My family met him and spent a bit of time with him during their quick trips to visit me at school, but we never came to Blackwood. It would have been too hard to come back here. I wasn’t ready. I was happy—mostly—and moving on with my life. Always worried that coming back would only cause problems.
Our first night in Blackwood only proved me right. I walked into what I thought was my brother’s bar and was completely blindsided.
I didn’t expect to see Jaxson. I really didn’t expect him to confront me about the past right there in the middle of a crowded bar. He deserves answers, that much I do know, but it was hardly the time or place.
I know my leaving hurt him. At the time, I thought I was doing the best thing for everyone. I was wrong. Seeing the pain in his eyes allowed all of my pain to come flooding back. the rush was a hundred times worse after seeing how much hurt I caused him.
I was only nineteen. Still young, still immature in many ways.
I saw a therapist while I was away at school. It wasn’t something I wanted to do, but Holden convinced me, and in the end—I’m glad I went. She helped me sort through the disaster in my head. She provided me with comfort, support, invaluable advice, and a judgement free place to let my skeletons out.
My sessions with her allowed me to let go of the guilt and blame, but not entirely. She worked with me to pinpoint exactly why I made the choice to run rather than stay and face things head on. It all boils down to the fact that my head was completely fucked up and I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to make sound decisions.
Mental anguish. Desperation. Depression. Self-loathing. Stubbornness. Hormones.
They all played a role.
Being back in Blackwood. Seeing Jaxson again. It’s bringing up old feelings and hurts. I thought I was past all of this, but now I’m not so sure.
Part of my heart still belongs to Jaxson. Always will. Not that I’d admit that to anyone. It’s hard enough admitting it to myself, but I’ve belonged to him since I was a little girl, only nine years old.
It was at one of my brother’s little league football games when I saw him for the first time. I was still in that “boys have cooties” stage, but I remember the way my heart beat harder in my chest. My palms got hot and sweaty. Butterflies took flight inside my belly. The way the blush rose on my cheeks when he smiled at me.
I remember thinking he was the cutest boy I had ever seen.
Jaxson was one of my brother’s teammates and they’d just won their game. His parents weren’t at the game, so mine insisted he join us for pizza to celebrate. He came home with us that day, and so many days after.
He and Holden became good friends, but he became a friend to me, too. The boys never complained about me following them around and wanting to be close. As we got older, Jaxson paid more and more attention to me, and less attention to Holden. They were still friends, sure, but everyone knew how close we had gotten. Eventually, we were inseparable. There was no me without Jaxson.
Over the years, our friendship naturally progressed into something more. I was sixteen the first time he kissed me. He was a few years older than me, so his age should have been a problem. It wasn’t. My parents knew and trusted him. They loved him like he was part of the family already.
It’d be easy to look back and say that it was puppy love. To say that our relationship was too intense for people so young. I told myself so many lies in an effort to justify walking away. Deep down, I know the truth.
I love Jaxson in a way where nothing else compares. And yes, I do still love him. I’ve come to terms with the fact that there will always be love for him in my heart.
That doesn’t mean I don’t love David, because I do. It’s a different kind of love. Less intense. Less consuming. Safer.
I’m ripped from my thoughts when I’m jerked violently, spinning to find myself chest-to-chest with my husband. He holds my upper arms in a bruising grip. I gasp, staring at him with wide eyes.
“Where the fuck have you been all day, Madelyn?” He shouts in my face, spittle from his lips landing on my cheek.
Shocked, and a bit afraid, I can barely speak. “I—I’ve been here.”
“Don’t you dare fucking lie to me.” He spits the words with so much venom that my level of fear increases tenfold. I’m utterly terrified in this moment.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
“I’m not lying to you, David. I’ve been cleaning and unpacking all day. Look around.” My voice is small, a bit hesitant. Not like me at all.
He looks around, taking in the empty boxes. “Then why haven’t you answered your phone? I’ve been calling you for hours!” Seeing the results of my efforts all day didn’t lessen his anger.
“I didn’t hear it, I’m sorry. I don’t understand why you’re so angry.”
He sneers, tightening his grip on my arms. “Of course you didn’t. Too busy spreading your legs for the bartender, I’m sure.”
I gasp, reality setting in that he knows exactly who Jaxson is. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but I’m not sure how he found out. I can’t believe he thinks I would cheat on him. I try to step back, but his hold on me is too tight.
Shaking my head vehemently, I tell him, “No, I wouldn’t. I love you, David. I’ve had the music up pretty loud. I was just finishing up so I could start cooking dinner, but I haven’t left the house all day.”
I remain calm, pushing back my desire to argue and fight. I want to tell him that he’s full of shit and has no reason to accuse me of being unfaithful, but I can’t. That part of me is silenced by his dark, angry expression and vicious tone.
“I saw you talking to that lowlife punk at the bar. Made plans with him, didn’t you? Wait until I start working to step out on me with your ex, huh? I’m not a stupid man, Madelyn. That’s why you wanted to move back to this shitty little town, isn’t it? You wanted a nice husband at home to take care of you while you whore around with your loser of an ex.”
His grip tightens to the point of pain as I try to pull back again. “You’re hurting me, David.”
He laughs, but it’s malicious, wrong.
“I’m hurting you ? How do you think it makes me feel to know that I married a whore?”
I’m utterly speechless. I can’t fathom why he has this idea in his head. I don’t know what to say to make him see the truth.
“Did you fuck him in our bed, Madelyn?” He thrusts me away from him, finally releasing my arms with a force that makes me hit the floor.
“Did you? Answer me !” He snarls.
I’m stunned.
Who is this man? I can’t believe he’s acting like this. The feral look in his eyes sends a shiver of dread down my spine. The man standing in front of me is not the man I married. I’m staring at a stranger.
Tears stream down my face. “No! I haven’t been with anyone else. Only you, David. Only you.”
David’s backhand connects with my cheek, the crack of it like thunder in the air, the force causing my head to whip to the side. A fiery heat creeps across my face as the tears well in my eyes. My hand instantly goes to my cheek as I quickly scramble backwards across the floor. I need to get away from him.
I watch him, waiting.
His expression suddenly morphs into one of regret. He looks down at his hand in horror and confusion. He looks at it like it doesn’t belong to him.
His gaze turns to me and he steps toward me, where I’m frozen in shock, my body curled up tightly against the wall. I wait silently. Still.
Turning away from me, his eyes close tightly as he pulls at his hair. “Son of a bitch!”
He turns back to face me, eyes clouded with regret.
Kneeling on the floor in front of me at a distance, his gaze meets mine.
“Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
He moves closer to me, but I throw my arms out to stop him.
“No, please.” I hate the quiver in my voice.
It’s enough to stop him dead in his tracks. He squeezes his eyes shut again, his hands balled into fists at his sides. I fear him lashing out again.
“Fuck!” He shouts, before lowering his voice. “I don’t know what came over me, baby. I’m sorry. Please.”
He starts to move toward me again, but I shake my head. His head drops as he mutters apologies over and over. I don’t think I only react. Standing quickly, I run down the hall and lock myself in our bedroom. I sit on the bed near the headboard, knees to my chest as I stare at the door. Silent tears stream down my face as I wait. I hope he doesn’t follow me because I can’t look at him right now.
I remain frozen in place. Watching. Waiting.
I don’t let myself relax until I hear the front door close.
I don’t know where he’s going, but I’m relieved that he left.
I know he said he didn’t mean it, but that doesn’t change what happened. It doesn’t take away my fear.
Is this the man I married? I’ve never seen even a hint of this side of him before.
Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life?
Maybe I shouldn’t have ignored all of those gut feelings.
Or maybe this is karma coming back around.