Compass (Siren Songs Book 2) (18 page)

Thinking back to the day Moby and I took our vows, I never imagined, at least not so early in our marriage, those vows would be tested. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be the one to question whether or not I could stay true to them, but here I am, less than six months in, and I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. I wonder how long I’ll be able to pretend if I don’t own up to how I’m feeling.

My anxiety begins to shift over the afternoon from Moby’s homecoming to the impending doom I feel over having this conversation. Dax is right; I have to tell him, but I don’t want to hurt him for anything in the world.

R
eading
the post on Facebook sends me into orbit.

Me: It would have been nice if you asked if I wanted a party before planning one

Piper: It’s just dinner at a Mexican restaurant. You have to eat.

Me: Doesn’t mean I have to do it with a bunch of people who haven’t cared enough to come see me in the weeks I was cooped up

Piper: Really, Moby? Do you want me to cancel?

I hesitate before responding. I don’t want to have dinner with those assholes. Most of them haven’t bothered calling or texting much less come by, but suddenly they want to make sure people see their names on the RSVP list. I don’t do fake.

I know I’ve hurt her feelings. People always say you can’t read tone in a text but I sure as hell can read her tone in her last text, it’s exasperation at my ungratefulness. She’s trying to do something for me, something to get me out, and I’m shitting on it.

Me: No. I’m sorry. I’m just not sure how I feel about seeing people

Piper: Why would you not want to see people?

Me: …

Piper: ???

Me: I can’t walk, Piper. I’m embarrassed to have people see me like this. I’m thirty-two and using a walker like I’m ninety.

Piper: Operative word…walk(er).

She’s all over the place the last couple of days. Hot and cold. Grateful and heedless. She’s becoming Sybil, and I never know which personality I’m going to get on a daily basis. Today she seems to be Positive Polly while I’m pairing up with Captain Jackass.

Me: How did things go at closing?

Piper: We’re no longer the owners of a money-sucking condo on Concord Drive. So I’d say it was a success.

Me: At least that’s over. What time are you breaking me out of the big house?

Piper: 4 p.m. I have a surprise for you at home before dinner at 6 p.m.

Me: What kind of surprise?

Piper: You’ll just have to wait and see

Promptly at four o’clock, Piper comes to my room to collect my things and me. I’d like to say leaving here is bittersweet, but the fact is the entire situation is just fucking bitter. I’m nowhere near where I need to be, we still don’t have any answers from any of the facilities about care after today, Piper and I are off, as in way off, and I really just want to be alone. Surprises don’t interest me, neither does going home, or dinner with friends. I want to be left alone to figure out what the fuck to do from here.

I feel the tension she doesn’t want to acknowledge. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something huge looming between us. It’s both of us. My anger’s brewing on the tip of my tongue. It’s eating at me, but I’m afraid if I voice it, speaking it out loud will bring it to life, whereas it’s currently sitting at bay. I’m lying to myself and I know it. It’s just under the surface, ready to boil over. I keep hoping I can get to one of my brothers before I explode all over Piper. They can handle it, they’ll let me say what I need to say, then promptly move on. I need the release, but damn, I can’t do it to her. She won’t understand. She’ll cry.

“Are you excited to be going home?” I hear the effort in her voice. It pains me either of us has to try so hard.

“I’m excited for the surprise you have.” I’m not. I’m not the least bit interested in anything she could’ve cooked up while I was gone, unless it’s her going out with everyone and leaving me alone.

She looks at me, uncertainty marking her face, mixed with a bit of unhappiness. “Ha. Sounds like it.” The sarcasm pours from her mouth. Piper doesn’t explode often but when she lets loose it’s brutal, and it usually starts with laden contempt. She stirs a pot of surly, brewing destruction in her mind.

I watch her chest heave as she inhales deeply, anticipating her explosion, but she doesn’t give it to me. “Is this what we’re going to do tonight? I really don’t have the energy for it. If you’re not interested in the surprise, that’s okay.” She turns to glance at me, briefly taking her eyes off the road. All I see is exhaustion and sadness.

“No. I’m sorry. Look, I’ve got a lot on my mind and I’m sure you do too. Let’s try to get through tonight and enjoy some time with our friends. Tomorrow we can sit down and try to figure out how we move forward—together.” Putting my hand on hers, I give it a gentle squeeze in an attempt to reassure her I still love her, and I’m still in this for the long haul. The smile she returns is not reassuring; neither is the pitiful hug her hand gives mine.

I want to be happy when we pull up to the house, everything in me tries to find relief in being home and no longer in a hospital, but the moment I see the ramp over the stairs my irritation turns red in anger. “I could have gotten up the stairs, Piper.” I glare at her, seething my words through my teeth.

Turning the car off, she ignores me, pissing me off even more. Exiting the car, I watch her move around the car to the trunk. When she arrives at my door with the walker, I open the car door too hard, too fast, knocking her down in the driveway with the weight of it. Her body splayed on the concrete, she lies motionless, staring at me in disbelief, but I don’t apologize. Sitting up, she begins to dust herself off, kneeling, then standing; she offers her hand to assist me in getting out of the car, but I refuse. Grabbing hold of the walker, I begin the ugly trek to the front of the house.

I should be concentrating on each step I take, making sure not to hyperextend my knee, but instead, I’m taking note of every neighbor in their driveway or yard, those stopping to stare, seeing the freak show trying to get inside. My knee snaps back over and over the more frustrated I get.

“Moby, it’s okay. Slow down. We’re not in a race.” Her voice is soothing, the Piper I married coming out. Her compassion is one of the things I love most about her, but right now, I want to rip her tongue out.

Under muffled breath so the watching eyes can’t hear, I say, “You have no idea what this feels like. How embarrassing it is to have people stare at you, gawk, wonder what happened to you or if you were born this way.” If my eyes had lasers in them, they would’ve bored holes straight through her.

“Neither do you. You’ve been dealing with this for all of thirty seconds while others have dealt with it for a lifetime. Drop the pity party for a bit and let’s get inside.” Her tone changed in the blink of an eye. She’s going to match my attitude, and it’s going to get ugly quickly if one of us doesn’t relent.

“Sorry.”

Stopping on the ramp, she turns around to face me, her cheeks blood red, almost purple, her eyes bulging in an unnatural way. “What for Moby? Pushing me down on the driveway? Acting like a total jackass? Or just being a victim altogether?” Not waiting for a response, she opens the front door, swinging it wide to allow me to come in. I see her disappear, but she doesn’t stay to ensure I make it in.

By the time I reach the couch, I’m exhausted. Walking any distance really takes an extraordinary amount of effort, leaving me winded, and in need of a break. I push the walker away, a little more forcefully than necessary, sending it crashing to the floor in front of me. Lying back on the couch, with my arm crossed over my eyes, I wonder how the hell Piper and I are ever going to survive this.

Without warning, before I can move to see what joined me, I feel wetness all over my arm. Pulling my makeshift blindfold from my face, I’m rewarded with the most adorable boxer I’ve ever seen. He’s a beautiful chocolate brown with an ivory spot on his neck, long awkward legs, and floppy ears.

He instantly lifts my spirits, and I scratch behind his ears. “Hey, guy. Where did you come from?” As if he’s going to provide me with an answer. “Huh, pretty boy?” Peppering my face with puppy kisses, he wags his little butt in the air. What I wouldn’t give to be this carefree.

“He needs to go outside, Moby.” Piper stands by the back door, jostling the bell hanging on the doorknob. The puppy looks at her, tilting his head to the side, contemplating following her instructions or staying with me. In the end, he rushes to her and follows her out back. I watch them through the windows as she leads him to the backyard. I can tell by the look on her face she’s talking to him in a singsong voice, telling him what a good boy he is when he does his business in the grass. I miss seeing that smile on her face, one of true happiness, unforced. She used to give me that smile readily. Now all she does is cry. I know I put that in her. I took her joy replacing it with whatever this hell is we’re enduring. I robbed her.

I vow to myself, again, to make this right with her: to show her what I’m willing to do to rehabilitate, and to make our marriage what we both thought it would be. I may have to commit to myself daily, every single fucking morning, or hell, even more often, but she’s worth the commitment. She’s worth the work.

As the back door opens, and the little brown guy jumps repeatedly before finally landing on the couch again, I look at her, trying to gauge her mood, although I’m sure it’s sour. “Baby, come sit with me.”

Begrudgingly she meanders through the living room toward me. The couch is an enormous U shape with two full-size couches making up two sides and a chaise lounge on the other. I couldn’t make it past the chaise when I collapsed on it, but Piper chooses the furthest spot from me. Smiling at the dog, patting her lap to entice him to her. The little traitor runs toward her, placing his butt on her legs and his paws on her shoulder. It’s obvious they’ve spent quite a bit of time cuddling in that very position.

“Where’d he come from?” I can’t help but smile at the love she pours all over him.

“A breeder in Anderson. He’s sweet as can be.” She’s talking to me but never takes her focus from the dog.

“Does he have a name?”

“Nope. He’s not my dog, so I didn’t give him a name.”

“Who’s dog is he?” I sit up to look at her.

“Yours silly.”

“He looks like he’s yours.” They’ve clearly bonded.

“I was just taking care of him until you could come home.”

“How long have you had him?”

“Almost a week. He’s been going to work with me, and has been bounced around between your brothers and the Fish to make sure he hasn’t been alone much. He’s just a lover. He’ll attach himself to you quickly.”

“I get to name him?” She doesn’t respond to me, tranquilized by the slobbery kisses from the canine. “Piper?”

“What? Yeah, of course, he’s your dog. Surprise.” The lilt in her voice saddens me.

I ruined this for her. She’s not a dog person, never has been. She loves cats. We’ve talked about getting a dog, and she always said it would be my responsibility. I would have to train one, walk one, feed one, and on and on, but she had this dog for a week treating it like a child in order to surprise me.

“Go see Daddy,” she sings to the puppy.

When he doesn’t do what she tells him, she picks him up, carries him to me, and carefully places him in my arms. “You need to give him a name pretty quickly, or he’s forever just going to be Puppy.”

“Phoenix,” I blurt out. It suits him, or it will when he’s a bad ass with a spiked collar and a bark larger than life.

“Like the bird?”

Then I think maybe I’ve been hasty in my decision. “Well, yeah. You know rebirth and immortality and all that. Seems rather fitting for the circumstances.” I scrunch my face in uncertainty.

“I guess that depends on what you plan to do with the situation. Are you going to use it as a rebirth or a sacrifice?” Straight to the point.

“Rebirth.” I’m going to fuck up so many times I won’t be able to count them, but I commit to making it through this with her still standing by me.

Walking to me, she kisses my forehead. “I hope so. Enjoy some time with Phoenix. We need to leave in about thirty minutes to go to dinner.”

Grabbing her wrist, I stop her, forcing her gaze to meet mine. I search her eyes for any connection, but most of what I see is hopelessness. “I love you, Piper.”

Pulling her arm from my grasp, she responds out of habit. “Love you.”

I never thought I would doubt those words coming from her mouth, but she just proved she would say them on autopilot even if she didn’t really mean them.

She disappears into the bedroom, likely to freshen up before going out. My mind volleys with the emotions pummeling me, some of hope, some of fear, confusion, anger. I’d kill for one day where I’m just happy again. One day where Piper and I can sit together and laugh, be playful, walk our dog, one day without limitations, one day without hesitation.

I fear one day won’t come.

I worry she’s going to leave because I can’t love her the way she deserves.