Blissful Vol. 1 (6 page)

They look adorable together, and watching
them makes my heartache a little less painful. They look so
peaceful, I don’t want to disturb them.

I tiptoe back to the kitchen and open the
fridge to see if there’s anything inside that can soothe my
cravings. It’s either hugs or a big piece of chocolate I need.
Love, food; I exchange one for another quite frequently. Whatever’s
available.

Sadly, he doesn’t have anything good. If I
discount the veggies, countless meat packages and wrapped
leftovers, all that’s left is a carton of milk and a bottle of
coke. Guess the coke will have to do.

I would normally never be like this, but I
can’t help myself. I need something in my stomach to silence the
voices in my head. Eating and drinking always eases me.

Pulling open the cabinet above the sink, I
grab a glass. Suddenly a crackling sound startles me. The bottle of
coke drops from my hands and lands on the floor. The carbon dioxide
instantly starts to sizzle on the top layer. Shit. If I open it now
it’ll rain coke. There goes my plan. What the hell was that noise
anyway?

I close the door of the fridge, and then
Jack’s right in front of my face. I let out a short squeal, but
Jack’s hand moves quickly on top of my mouth. Oh. My. God. His hand
is on my mouth. I can feel him. My lip starts quivering. My tongue
is going in overdrive in my mouth. Only a tiny fraction of me can
stop myself from trying to kiss his fingers.

His other hand moves to his own lips and he
makes a shushing sound, then he releases me. Damn.

“She’s still asleep,” he whispers.

“Sorry. What was that?”

“Dropped something,” Jack says.

He frowns, the corners of his lips pointing
down. By the look on his face I can tell it’s bad. Actually, he
looks depressed. He probably broke the frame he was holding.

Jack
picks up the bottle of coke from the floor and sets it down
on the counter. “That coke’s going to take a while to fizzle
down.”

His eyes scan my face, up and down, left
and right, as if he’s trying to figure something out.
He’s so close now, if I hold
out my arms I could wrap them around him. I gasp when his finger
reaches up impulsively and brushes along my cheek. I shiver from
his touch. Gently, he wipes away a wet strand of hair from my cheek
and tucks it behind my ear.

I’m mortified and stunned. On the inside I’m
set ablaze.

Then I realize I was crying like a baby
ten minutes ago. My face must be bloated and red. In an instant I
feel ashamed, and I turn around to face the sink, so I can bury my
face between my hands. Leaning on the counter, I say, “Yeah” to
quell the silence between us.

He leans against the fridge, trying to
peek underneath the curtain of hair falling across my face.
He smiles when he sees me
glance at him, and it makes me laugh. The way he tries to make
contact with me gives me a momentary sense of peace, even if it
only lasts for a few seconds.

“Tell you what, let me make you something,”
he says.

Jack pushes himself off the fridge and opens
it. He grabs the carton of milk and walks to the stove.

“You don’t have to,” I mutter.

Jack grabs a pan and pours in some milk
before turning on the gas. He adds some cinnamon and lets the milk
heat up. “Yeah, I do. You look miserable.”

My face turns rigid and suddenly feels cold.
Three times crap. He noticed.

I turn to try and sneak away from this
embarrassing scene. Suddenly I feel his hand clutch my arm. “Ah,
don’t go,” he says. I turn around and he slowly lets go.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be
so upfront. Haven’t been around a woman for a while, takes some
time to get used to that kind of … well you get the
picture.”

“You think I’m whiny.”

Jack
purses his lips. “No, I did not say that.”

“
It’s okay. I know it’s true. I’m whiny,
self-absorbed, a bitch and fat.”
My own words are repetitions mulling in my head.
These words don’t stem from me. I’ve heard them all my life, people
shouting the most hurtful things at me, and I’ve always remembered
it. I lodged them into my brain, and they’ve grown into the only
truth I know.

“
Hey.” Jack squeezes my wrist and tilts his
head, peering into my eyes, peeling away the layers of my soul. I
don’t know what it is with him. He just has this effect on me that
breaks my defense.
As if
he’s gazing into the depths of me, grasping a hold of me, tearing
down the walls enclosing my heart.

“Don’t you ever say that about yourself
again.”

“
Why? You don’
t know me.”

“
Because it’s not true
, and you know that. I
know
you’re not. I’ve known you long enough to know all
of that is not true. I don’t need more than a couple of hours to
conclude that. I’ve seen it peep in from time to time, especially
when you were playing with Madeline. I know there’s some good
inside that soul of yours. Maybe it’s not coming out right now, but
it sure is in there.” He presses his finger onto my sternum, and I
can feel the heat being forced into my body. As if he’s reaching
straight for my heart.

When his finger disappears from my chest the
emptiness that takes its place is engulfing.

“Still leaves the fat part,” I mutter.

“Who told you that?” he says, his voice
increasingly irritated.

I snort. “My … ex.”

He shakes his hea
d and frowns. “What a dipshit.”

Chortling, I say, “Agreed.”

He grabs my upper arm
, and his eyes connect with mine again. My
body gravitates toward his, an invisible string pulling me
closer.

“
Listen to me
. Whatever happened to you that got you so
depressed, I know he’s not worth the tears. A man who says that
kind of crap to his girlfriend is an idiot. You’re not fat. I don’t
know what kind of assholes you have in the city, but us country
folk do know the difference between fat and normal. And trust me,
you are
not
fat, Amy.
I’ve seen
real big
women
before. Hell we’ve got a whole town of them hours away, and you
pale in comparison. You’re beautiful.”

His words astonish me. I’m completely
baffled. Nailed to the floor, I stare at him and his amazing lips
that just blurted out those words. It meant
probably nothing and totally everything at
the same time. But it makes me feel better than ever
before.

His cheeks redden and he crushes his lips,
his eyes flicking all over the place. He clears his throat and
turns
to stir the
milk.

Something inside me is igniting. Jack’s
presence is drawing me in. Jokes aside, he seems more and more like
a man I admire instead of dislike. The more I see of him, the more
I want. I need to see more. Just a glimpse is all that it takes to
give my heart that spark it needs to light up again.

“
Thanks,” I stammer. “I
appreci
ate you trying to
cheer me up.”

“No need to thank me. I’m only saying the
truth.”

There he goes again, making my breath falter
and my heart jittery.

Turning off the gas, he takes the pan off
the stove and grabs a mug from the cabinet. Jack pours the milk
into the mug and sets the pan back down. He holds up the mug and
looks at me, convincing me to take it. When I reach for it, his
fingers gently brush mine. I flush, taking the mug to my lips,
seeing him smile.

“Good, isn’t it?” he says.

I nod and sip some more. God, this tastes
good.

“It’s a sure way to doze off,” he says.

“Do this often?” I ask.

He nods. “Madeline has nightmares, and I
always make her warm milk to calm her down and get her to sleep
again.”

Jack yawns and stretches his arms. A
glimpse of his trained abdomen is visible, and I gulp. What I’d do
to get my hands on that.

He winces. “God,
that couch is killing my back.”

“
Don’t tell
me you always sleep on there.”

“
No, not always. Just
often.”

“Why? You have a bed, right?”

“I have trouble sleeping. Usually watch some
television. When Maddy wakes up she doesn’t want me to leave, so I
let her sleep with me on the couch. Beats having to get up fifteen
times a night.”

Him, trouble sleeping
? He doesn’t strike me as the tired type.
But it was darn cute to see him like that.

“
Anyway, enough talking about
me. You should catch some
sleep,” Jack says.

“What about you?”

He shrugs. “I’ll manage.”

Or in other words, he’ll just stay awake and
do what? Nothing?

I put the mug down and turn to walk out
the kitchen, but he walks after me. He nudges the hot mug against
my skin. “
Take it up to
your room. It’s okay.” His wink makes me feel weak in the
knees.

“
Thanks. Goodnight,” I say, and I clench it
tig
ht while walking up
the stairs.

He watches me go up. His gaze is still on
me, following me into the room. There’s a perpetual smile on his
face. I wave
, and he
waves back, then I close the door behind me. Leaning against it, I
let out a huge sigh, and a smile creeps onto my face. I can’t stop
smiling, not even when I’m trying to drink. Whatever this is, I
don’t want it to stop.

Chapter 5

Jack

She really lit up when I called her
beautiful. I can’t believe I actually said that.
I feel like a stupid, clumsy jock again,
stuttering in front of the high school beauty. Well, I did mean it
when I said Amy was beautiful. I don’t understand why she thinks
she’s not pretty. Most girls here would say she’s thin, maybe
curvy, but not fat. Must be some city-girl problem or
something.

Scratching my head, I take a deep breath and
sigh. I can’t stop looking at her, even when she’s already gone
from sight. The way she smiles makes me feel alive again, and all I
want is to see that smile. Again and again. Her laugh drowns the
memories I have, soothing the pain a little.

But I know I can’t see her smile forever.
She’ll leave eventually. I can’t let it happen. I can’t bear to
lose another. It’ll kill me before my time. I don’t want to take
that chance.

Shaking my head, I turn and walk to the
kitchen. What am I doing? I shouldn’t be thinking about this. I
don’t have time for any of this bullshit. This never ending job
doesn’t make room for anything else than work. As if I would need
it.

I don’t need it. I don’t need anyone. Only
Maddy.

Besides, it wouldn’t be good for her.
She’s already lost someone, and I can’t bear to see her lose anyone
else. I don’t want her to get attached to someone who’ll be ripped
away from her any moment. She can’t handle that. She’s too young to
understand anyway. Nope, not a good thing. Definitely
not.

I walk to the living room and look at sweet
little Madeline, curled up into a blanket I placed over her.
Looking at her fades out the voices in my head, but the cracked
picture lying on the floor brings them back.

Picking it up, I swipe away the broken glass
and look at the beautiful woman staring back at me. What I’d give
to touch her for real. To hold her with my own hands. Not like
this. This cold, static image of hers is empty and hollow. Just
like my heart.

Fuck me. I need something to drink.

I sigh again and
go to the kitchen. Putting the picture down on the
kitchen counter, I open the highest hanging cabinet, where I stash
the pain relievers. The only thing I know to do when I feel like
shit.

I snatch out a can of beer and take off the
lid. It’s midnight, but I don’t care. I need a drink, now.

I put the can to my lips and let beer flow
into my mouth. It prickles my taste buds and sets my throat on fire
when I swallow. The sting is a welcome distraction. I’d do anything
to forget. Just forget. Make everything go away.

I take another sip, and the alcohol runs
over my lips. Drops fall onto the floor, but I don’t care. I need
to empty this can as quickly as possible, so I can get rid of it.
Nobody needs to know about this. It’s nothing shameful, but I can’t
have them ask me questions. I don’t have any answers. Or at least
I’m afraid to admit them. Saying what goes on in my mind makes it
real and those horrifying things should’ve never have been
true.

Fuck this. Fuck it all. I hate this.

My fingers instinctively cramp up. The can
is squeezed together and the beer pours out. With my teeth
clenched, I slam the can into the floor. My body is overflowing
with emotions I can’t place. Emotions I don’t even remember not
having. Rage, bitterness, sorrow, all together. It’s too
much.

“Fuck!” I hiss.

Suddenly
a shuffling sound comes from the living room, and
I freeze. My daughter’s staring at me. “Daddy?” she
says.

She comes closer
, her eyes still partially closed. The blanket is
wrapped tightly around her, and it makes her look like a butterfly
trapped in its cocoon. She almost trips over a piece that managed
to slip under her feet, but I catch her in time.