Page 11 of Boundaries

“It doesn’t matter Jenna. It’s over. Remember all the horrible things he said before he left,” I stated in a matter-of-fact voice.

Jenna and Nixon had an on-and-off marriage. Now it was off. Nixon had gone back to Syria which had at least given them some time apart. A time for those wounds to heal. After that last fight, I did think Jenna had come to her senses, but apparently not.

She looked away briefly. Something she did when she couldn’t face the facts. My sister had spent the last few weeks running from them. Nixon McKenna was no good for her and she needed to come to terms with that. If I had to keep giving her a little nudge in that direction, I would.

My mind transferred back to what Mason had said about minding my own business. Surely my family was my business?

“Maybe things will be different when he comes back. Marriages take work, don’t they?” she said, pursing her soft, plump lips. I wanted to hug some sense into her. She and Nix had married much too quickly, hence the fallout.

Her comment proved that she did want to work it out with him. I knew this would happen, once she’d heard the news that he was coming home, that she’d weaken.

“We could live here instead? Without all the male hormones. He’s so different when he’s not around his father and brothers,” she suggested lightly. As if her heart would be any safer with the overbearing monster if they were on our territory.

“Dad wouldn’t allow it now. If he ever sets foot here again, he’ll be escorted off by Daniel, you know that.” Daniel was one of our farm hands who acted as security if the need arose. He used to be a bouncer in town and was built like a brick shit house. He’d have to be considering the size of Jenna’s husband. Nixon was an aggressive-looking, tattooed tank of a man and took shit from no one. I remembered seeing him that time in the fighting ring at their house. Untameable.

Jenna fiddled with her rings again. It made me want to lean over and rip them off her finger.

“Well, either way, we must talk. Maybe then I can get some closure,” Jenna said, her tone hollow.

“He still fucked off to Syria without you, what does that tell you? He obviously doesn’t care as much as you think.”

Jenna had never been invited to stay with Nixon at the base in Marham when he was working away either. He didn’t like the attention she received from his not-getting-any squaddie buddies.

She suddenly looked like she was in pain and I hated myself for being the one to cause it, but I had to be honest. Although I knew Nixon hadn’t had a choice. He’d been on long-term leave from the army when he and Jenna had got together and so everyone knew he’d have to return, eventually.

“He was going on tour Amy; they don’t take wives. It’s too dangerous.”

“If he really loved you, he should be by your side. He should have left the army,” I pointed out, knowing that my words were bullshit.

There was a beat of silence.

“Do you really want to go back to him when he took control of your life like that? Stopped you from doing the things you love? Seeing your family?”

Her brow threaded as her eyes probed mine.

I carried the hell on, “What about how he treated you when he first came back? Constantly blaming us for the fire and taking it out on you. He was cruel and punished you like the sick fucker he is.”

“He wasn’t that bad,” she whispered.

“You were like a little toy to him. And when you first got together. You lost your identity. Everything was about Nixon and his interfering family. They didn’t welcome you into the fold, you had to adapt to fit in, and that’s not how it should be.”

“Well, I said I needed space and I’ve had it,” she whispered. She was so beautiful and special but so very soft. A softness that Nixon McKenna had latched on to, a biddable entity that would bend over backwards to please him, without question or complaint.

She shrugged her slight shoulders and a light appeared in her eyes. “He wants me back; I know he does. He’s tried my old phone. I didn’t have time to read the messages but I found it in Dad’s drawer. He must have got some signal at some point and tried to contact me.”

Our father took Jenna’s phone to stop Nixon from contacting her after the shit kicked off the night before his flight. He tried to message me, but I’d blocked his number. Luckily, he didn’t have our landline and any letters sent that were blatantly not from the UK were hidden. Yes, our family interfered but it was for the best. Jenna, of course, didn’t know that and never would if it was up to me.

“He’ll come to me; I know he will.”

“And you have to be strong enough to say no. I just can’t see you hurt again Jen,” I replied firmly.

I wasn’t stupid. Jenna was still besotted by Nixon and there wasn’t much we could do about it. My parents wouldn’t lock her in her room or anything. The only thing that we could do was try and keep them apart, but that was no easy feat when considering Nixon’s bullheadedness. The guy ripped down barriers; physically and figuratively.

Their marriage should never have happened, end of. Instead of closing the rift between our two families, their union had made it wider. Like a huge gaping hole, a wound that was still festering.

Seeing how Jenna was struggling with the conversation, I changed it to focus on our Chrissy and told Jen about the rumours. My sister felt the same way about Boyd McKenna as he had been nothing but rude to her when she’d been living with Nixon. Jenna had explained that the only McKenna to be nice to her was in fact, Mason. I’d almost swallowed my tongue at that news. Considering he and I had been at war for most of our lives.

We spent around an hour catching up and she started to relax and opened herself up. I saw signs of the old Jenna, the one before she’d had her heart stomped on. It was refreshing.

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