Maggie's Five ...the first in a LOVE story (16 page)

“
But
you left… and you’ll leave. You have to. I mean you should… no,
I-”

Overwrought, I
cover my face with my hands and cry. I don’t know why exactly -
relief, happiness, anger, insecurity. Or is it a good old-fashioned
dose of guilt because I feel like I’ve betrayed him? I’ve let Luke
down with my callous actions while he’s been away. He keeps still
letting me cry until I’ve cried myself out.

After I’m quiet
and he’s sure that I’m done, the bed shifts and Luke sits up,
taking me with him. He steadies and crosses his legs. I copy his
movement so we are both sitting Indian style, limbs touching, my
gaze wavering. Holding my hands, Luke waits patiently for me to
look up at him.

“
You’re angry with me?” he asks, arching a brow and pointing
at his chest, suggesting that my anger is directed at the wrong
person.

“
You
left,” I whisper, ashamed with my explanation.

“
For
work.”

“
But
you still left, after you promised-”

“
For
work, Maggie, and I came back.” Luke’s voice is still even, but
firmer than it was and it prickles at my skin.

“
But
you still left me,” I hear my voice raising.

I know the
illogical words are coming out of my mouth and I can’t believe I’m
the one saying them but I can’t seem to stop them either. They
sound pathetic and weak. I sound pathetic... weak. And frankly it
pisses me off.

“
Yes
Maggie.” Luke’s voice is firm now, his eyes boring into mine. “I
had to leave for my job. It’s my company and I had business to
attend to. That’s how life works. I go to work, I come home. People
do it every day.”

“
You
WENT home,” I yell, trying to break free from his hold on my
hands.

I know I’m being
ridiculous, well aware that I’m over-reacting. But I can’t allow
him to do this. I can’t let him give me hope that can’t possibly
last.

“
I
came home. I went to work.”

“
NO.”
This time I struggle harder, twisting my arms until I manage to
break free. Then I quickly scramble haphazardly over the messy
covers on the queen mattress and scamper to the bathroom, locking
the door after slamming it shut. I press my back to it, sink into a
crouch and wrap my arms around my knees.

“
Maggie, yes,” Luke’s voice carries from the other side of the
wall. “I came home - to you. I came home, Maggie. I will always do
my best to come home.”

Why would he? He
doesn’t owe me anything and I’ve got nothing to give.

“
Brendan said he would always come home, too,” I whisper,
mostly to myself. The fight in me is dwindling as rapidly as it
exploded. I really suck at this whole arguing thing.

Logic tells me
that Brendan had no choice and if he did, he would have chosen to
stay, for the girls to stay. Nonetheless, logic has no home in my
senselessness. He still left me bereft and empty and Luke has the
power to do the same.

My grief becomes
so overwhelming that I feel like I’m drowning. Brendan’s gone and
will never come home. My babies… my precious, innocent babies who
never got a chance at life are gone, and will never be able to come
home.

I’ll never be
able to hold them in my arms. I’ll never be able to kiss their soft
cheeks, hear them giggle, show them how much I was made just for
them, made to love them with my all, with every molecule in my
being precisely designed to be their mother. His wife.

I drop heavily
on the cool tile floor and cry my heart out, thinking of all the
shameful things I did last night, of all the appalling things I’ve
done and weep harder, disgusted in myself.

I’ve eagerly
taken drugs, drunk myself to oblivion and had cheap dirty sex in so
many public places I’ve lost count and it sickens me. I sicken
me.

I’ve let my
family down. Worse - I’ve disrespected them and their memory. I
don’t deserve to have anyone. I don’t deserve anything.

“
You
should leave, Luke,” I say blankly as the miniscule, tangible part
of what’s left of me dissolves to dust.

“
Maggie Mae, open the door. Let me in,” Luke begs
softly.

I stand and drag
my feet to the edge of the bath tub, stopping motionless as I stare
at the white porcelain. Heavy arms reach to the back of my head to
pull Brendan’s shirt from my body. I watch as my hands turn on
taps, set the plug into place to allow the water to pool. My legs
lift and carry me into the filling liquid and sit my backside on
the base. My arms wrap around bent knees; my lids close, my heavy
head lowers.

And I
wait.

MY PHONE RINGING
in another room rouses me from my dark musings. I reluctantly drag
myself out of the tub and look at it longingly. I could spend the
rest of my life in there, sink under the surface and let the
blackness take over.

Not bothering to
pull the plug, I wrap a towel around my body and walk wet
foot-prints through the house to my phone, to find it pressed to
Luke’s ear. He immediately stops speaking when he sees me enter the
kitchen.

I simply hold
out my palm and watch it until he rests my mobile on it, brushing
my fingers with his before pulling away.

Turning my back
to him, I murmur, “You really should leave. I’m no good anymore.”
My statement is as dull and lifeless as I feel.

I lift my phone
to my ear on my way through the living room. “Hello?”

“
Boyfriend back, sweetheart?”

“
No
boyfriend.”

“
Be
ready in an hour sweetheart. You’re with me,” is all Red says
before the line is disconnected.

I’m ready in
forty minutes.

Chapter 10

I’M BARELY OUT of the taxi when I land
heavily on my hands and knees, throwing up. I tend to spend a lot
of time on my hands and knees, and not necessarily to vomit…
though, most of my nights have a habit of ending with me splattered
with rancid bile.

I hear the front
door slam and footsteps rushing closer. I can’t manage to look up
just yet because I still have more to painfully expel. And I do,
twice over.

“
Hey,
it’s okay. I’ve got you Maggie Mae,” Luke murmurs, scooping up my
hair with one hand and resting the other on my back.

“
Why?” I choke, then turn my head and dry heave around
painfully cramping abdominals.

“
Come
on, let’s get you inside… Whoa, what happened to your
face?”

As Luke tenderly
cups my jaw, I have to try hard to focus firstly on the question,
then secondly on my answer.

“
Red
got mad at the ATM.” I cross my brows in confusion. “It stopped
giving out money... and Red got mad and hit it.”

“
Then
hit you?” Luke asks with a clenched jaw.

I’m so tired I
scarcely manage to shrug in response as I lower my head to the damp
grass. When I’m almost all the way down, I feel my body being
lifted off the wet earth and carried into the warmth of the house I
sometimes exist in.

Luke doesn’t say
another word while carrying me into the downstairs bathroom,
turning on the taps to fill the tub. He presses a gentle kiss to my
temple above the swelling and no doubt bruising on my cheek and
lowers my feet to the cool tiles.

“
Careful baby, kick your shoes off,” he suggests in his deep,
caressing timbre.

“
Why
are you here Luke?” I ask for the hundredth time, as I hook the
point of my shoe into the back of the other, letting it drop with a
clunk, then use my toes to flick the other one off.

“
I
told you Maggie Mae, for when fine isn’t fine anymore. Are you
still fine, Maggie?”

I don’t
know.

“
I’m
fine Luke.”
Am I?
“How long?” My words jumble out and I have
to wipe away at some saliva dripping out of the corner of my
mouth.

“
How
long what, Maggie?”

“
Just
how long…”

How much longer
do I have deal with me, how much longer until I can be free, how
much longer do I have to live? How much longer until I can die so
all of it ends?

“
I’m
going to help you undress now, yeah.”

“
Why?” I’m trying to stand taller to look Luke in his eyes,
but am struggling to balance. I think I
should
care that
I’ve gotten myself to the point where I can’t do for myself, I
think I do or at least I will soon enough.

“
We
need to get you clean-”

“
No.”
My eyelids blink heavily. “Why everything?” I have to fist his
t-shirt to stop from over balancing to one side.

Taking a long
deep breath, Luke sits on the edge of the bath and places me
between his legs. He reaches over to test the water before
adjusting the taps.

“
You
help me too, Maggie,” he whispers sadly. “I don’t know why exactly,
but when I’m here with you...” He lifts a shoulder once, turns off
the water and searches my face. Resting his hands on my hips to
keep me steady, he then begins to slide the zip down on my
dress.

“
You
need to start dressing warmer. You’re freezing, baby.”

I raise my arms
above my head so Luke can slip the fabric free and discard it to
the floor. His long fingers trail down my limp arms, tracing their
way to my hands, where he entwines our fingers. I’m dimly watching
his expression turn from concern to anger to sorrow.

He raises my
right hand with his left, gently squeezing our tangled fingers
while looking at me with wide sad eyes, like he’s waiting on me for
something. He presses a gentle kiss to my third finger, drawing my
attention to it. Finally, I realise what Luke’s trying to show me
through his cautious actions. My heart drags heavily in my chest
and then limps for a few beats before bottoming out.

My ring is
gone.

I don’t remember
when and I don’t know how, but I can see what’s before me and it’s
not the ring Brendan gave me at our last ever Christmas together.
Our last everything together.

My head lowers
of its own accord and finds its way to Luke’s shoulder. My eyes
close and my body begs for it all to stop. I’m so emotionally
stricken I can’t even manage a single tear to help elevate the
intense pressure building up inside of me. I’ve managed to fail my
husband on a whole new level of low. God, I’m a revolting,
disgusting person and deserve nothing.

Luke’s strong
arms engulf my much smaller frame, pulling me closer. I
automatically resist him, only to feel him tighten his embrace and
place firmly onto his lap.

I’m rigid for
the longest time, denying all the words of comfort he repeatedly
murmurs into my ear until it all gets the better of me. Everything
comes all at once; every wrong I’ve done, every first that became
my last. All the kisses I’ll never get, all the kisses I’ll never
give… the hugs, the laughs, the cries… the arguments, the making
up… the adventures, the quiet times. All of it, now all my
lasts.

Burrowing into
him as deeply and securely as I can, I start sobbing gut-aching,
self-loathing cries. This is why I’m so very afraid of Luke. I’m
far more afraid of him than any other person I know.

Luke has the
ability to make me feel. All the blame and self-hate, the loss. All
I’ve worked so hard to numb in my horrid reality, Luke can bring
forth and kill me with it all over again.

What’s worse is
that he also has the ability to create want and need, to ask me to
have courage, to embrace sensations, to acknowledge my life, to
desire. To have him with me and never have to let him
leave.

The problem is
that I’ve believed and felt before, then broke.

And broken
hurts.

He shifts my
hips higher and slowly starts to slide us backwards into the warm
water. It bites at my cold skin, burning until I become accustomed
to the temperature.

“
Take
a breath baby,” he whispers and carefully submerges us, running a
gentle hand through my hair before resurfacing with tangled
fingers. He lays the unbruised side of my face to his chest and
holds me. I feel my body twitch, and eventually relax over him and
begin to drift off.

The drop in
water temperature stirs me. We’re still semi-submerged and
entwined, and again I wonder, “Why Luke?”, turning on the hot tap
to rewarm us.

“
Are
you still fine, Maggie Mae?” he mumbles sounding as tired as I
feel.

No, I never
was.

“
I’m
fine Luke,” I whisper so quietly, I don’t know if he heard me,
dipping my chin in the rising liquid and closing my sore bloodshot
eyes once more.

LUKE’S IN THE
kitchen cooking breakfast. How he found enough food in the pantry
to cook in the first place is an achievement in itself.

“
Morning,” I mumble shyly. I’m embarrassed about having to be
rescued again, about sharing a bath even if he was still fully
dressed, and for having a bruised face. It’s a long
list.