Page 101 of The Plus One
Jude closed his eyes, gripping his phone in his fist. He couldn’t open that email. Couldn’t see the next glimpse of his dark future, the strands of his life slipping through his fingers.
How was he supposed to go inside? How was he supposed to go to Indira, broken and hopeless and know where their upcoming goodbye would take him?
He managed to unfurl his stiff limbs from the car, locking it behind him and letting himself into her building.
Jude stood in front of Indira’s door, the gentle hum of her voice audible through the wood. Numbness ebbed through him, spreading like ink in water. Numbness was good. Jude had become too comfortable feeling anything besides numbness. Numbness was the only way he could stay whole.
He let himself into her place.
Indira was pacing around the living room, cell phone plastered to her ear, Grammy watching her trek from the arm of the couch.
Indira whipped around at the sound of Jude shutting the door.
“Fuck, you scared me,” she said, her eyes red. Then, into her phone, “He just walked in, Collin.” Pause. “Yeah. I’ll keep you posted.”
She ended the call.
Silence thumped around them, but Indira didn’t let it linger.
“Where the hell were you?” she said, voice angry. But she still crossed the space between them, pulling Jude into a tight hug. Jude couldn’t bring himself to hug her back.
“You had me worried sick,” she said into his chest. “It’s eleven. Why didn’t you call? Did you go out with friends?”
Jude shook his head, slipping out of her grip and slinking to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, staring into the harsh white light as the cooled air hit his cheeks.
“Jude. Talk to me, dammit,” Indira said over his shoulder.
He sighed, grabbing a bottle of water and turning to face her.
Jude looked at Indira, unable to school his features or straighten his spine. His limbs were almost as heavy as his heart as he stood there, staring at the woman he loved, feeling an ocean of distance growing between them.
“What happened?” Indira said, two tears rolling down her cheeks. “You’re scaring me.”
That rattled Jude enough for him to blink. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice rough and harsh. “I… I had a hard day. Lost track of time.”
Silence lingered as Indira studied him, those eyes boring into him.
“I got my next assignment,” Jude said, a dull cadence to his voice as he tried to say the words without feeling them.
Indira was still, terrifyingly still, eyes wide and face drawn taut.
“You can’t keep doing this.” Her voice was a whisper.
Jude wished she’d yelled it. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt as much.
“Doing what?” he asked, being purposefully obtuse. With shaky hands, he opened the water bottle, taking a tiny sip that was hard to get down.
“Forcing yourself to do the thing that’s slowly killing you.” Indira stepped forward, jaw set as she looked at him.
“That’s so dramatic.” Jude turned his head away. “It’s not killing me.”
“Itis, Jude,” Indira snapped, her voice cracking like a whip through the room, her face crumpling with tears rolling down her cheeks. “It’s killing you and I’m sitting here watching it. When you get stuck in those dark, terrifying places, that isn’t you. That’s a tormented version of you that has to endure for even longer.”
“No… I… No.” Maybe if Jude denied it for long enough, it would stop it from being true.
“Don’t lie to me. Don’t lie to yourself.”
“What do you want from me?” Jude said, stepping away from her, slamming the bottle on the counter.
