Page 77 of Waiting for Tuesday

She sobbed, but no words came from her lips any longer. I looked to the bedside table and saw her discharge papers already there. “I’ll take you home.”

Her body was shaking so hard it was difficult for me to watch. I’d never seen anyone cry like that before, as though her whole body, inside and out, was feeling every part of her pain. But she did everything like that. She kissed like that, with her whole body. And she made love like that.

I rubbed my hands over my face, needing to leave, needing to think—even though every part of me wanted to crawl in beside her and hold her so tight that she would stop shaking. To kiss her and tell her everything would be okay. But I couldn’t let myself. I didn’t know if I believed it. I couldn’t share her with anyone, and the fact that she was asking me to, proved she didn’t know me as well as I thought she did.

“Tuesday, it’s time to go.”

She turned to me then, her face red and streaked with tears. “Will you come with me?” she asked. “Will you take me home and will you come inside? Will you hold me? Because that’s what I need right now. I need you to hold me. I need you to love me. I need you to be with me. Will you be with me, even though I’m pregnant with another man’s child?”

I only stood there shaking my head, because even though she needed me to do all those things, I couldn’t.

“Then go,” she screamed. “Leave me!”

I shook my head again, my chest heavy from the sight of her. “I’m not leaving you like this. I’m taking you home.”

“No. You’re not! Leave me! Just do it! Please… please just do it!” She pulled in a breath and looked me in the eyes. “I need this pain to be over. Please,” she whispered. “Becky is already on her way.”

I looked to the closed door, everything hurting so badly I could hardly see straight. She continued to cry, filling my head with sounds that would never leave me because the sound of her tears mirrored the tearing apart of my heart. I gripped the back of my neck, squeezing so hard I knew I would leave a bruise, then I forced my feet forward, making myself walk away.

I pulled the door open, filling my lungs with the same air she breathed for the very last time, and left—just as she asked me to, and I didn’t look back. I would never look back.

Chapter THIRTY-FOUR

John

* * *

The road wasblack and dark, like everything else around me. Like my life, drained of all color since the moment I walked out of that room. I tried to breathe, although my chest was so tight I could hardly manage, but I did. Just enough to keep living. Just enough to feel the pain that was spreading like poison through my veins.

The yellow lines were dashing by on the road in front of me, the wipers swishing from side to side, clearing the rain from my windshield as I sped down the highway. I knew I should slow down, but I couldn’t. I needed to be far away from her; so far away, I wasn’t tempted to go back again.

Her cries rang like a blaring scream in my head, growing louder and louder with each second. And soon all I could see was her face. Visions of the day we met, kissing her against the display in the hardware store, finding her in the back room in tears because she was so tired, the way she melted in my arms like warm honey, and her hair, her wild and crazy hair framing her face when she sat on top of me as we made love.

The screams kept coming, louder and louder, filling every part of me with memories, taking every bit of life I had left. The sound grew louder, but I welcomed it, surrendering my heart to all of it.

My phone began to ring in the passenger seat, and I glanced over. Lisa’s name flashed across the screen. I turned away, knowing I couldn’t bear to explain why we’d left. My hands tightened on the steering wheel as I looked back to the road. But it wasn’t black anymore; it was bright and blinding. The screams weren’t my memories of Tuesday; they were the blaring sound of a semi-truck.

I swerved to the side, causing my tires to skid and spin. I gripped the steering wheel, not even fighting it anymore because my life had ended the moment I walked out of that hospital room. My truck continued to turn, round and round, and just when I thought it wouldn’t stop, my whole life went still.

The darkness filled my truck again and I slumped over in my seat. Silence took over the dark night as I replayed the events of the last few seconds. Then my shoulders began to shake, hard and uncontrollably, and for the first time since I was five years old, I let myself cry.

* * *

“Why didn’tyou answer yourphone?”Lisa’s voice called through the empty living room as I closed the door behind me. It was past one in the morning, six hours since our panicked departure from the party, two hours since I left Tuesday at the hospital. Ginger was asleep at her feet and barely glanced up when I came inside.

“Everyone is worried sick about you.”

I threw my keys on the table and ignored her, not caring when they slid off the surface and hit the floor.

She stood up, looking to the closed door. “Where’s Tuesday?” she whispered. “What happened?”

None of your fucking business.

It was what I wanted to say, but I didn’t. I was numb, and all I wanted was to sleep and forget about everything that had happened over the past eight weeks. Forget about everything that had happened since the night she walked into thatfuckingbar.

Lisa covered her mouth with her hand and followed me to my bedroom. “John, you’re scaring me. Why did you leave like that? What’s wrong? Talk to me. What happened?”

I sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to grip my skull because it hurt so fucking bad. But not just my head. Everything hurt. My body, my heart, every fucking crevice of it.

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