Page 8 of Still Forever
When he’s home, all is well, and it’s so easy to fall back into the routine of loving on him. But when he’s gone, and the silence of the walls is louder than his cologne, the resentment starts coming back again.
In the last 56 days, we spent four of them together.Four. He had just come back from Peru, not even three days ago, and here he was pulling an all-nighter. After being together for threeyears, we should be much further along in our relationship, but I refuse to settle for being married and alone. As much as I would love to be Mrs. Jaxon Jennings, I had to set the tone that I would never be okay with him going days without contacting me and leaving me in moments when he should be present.
The love and bond we shared were the only things that kept me attached to him for this long.
Despite Mafia life not being the world that I was raised in, I did my best to adjust because I knew what came with loving Jaxon. I pretended to sing songs and mind my business when I heard hits disguised by code words being ordered. I never asked about the people whom I saw once and never saw again. Walked graciously in my red bottoms when I was ushered out of places for reasons no one could explain. But after I received that body while I was in Peru, and what it cost me, I had no choice but to play the background. I had been as understanding as I could; now it was time for him to make some adjustments.
My phone chimed, alerting me that someone was entering the house. It was Jaxon. I threw on my robe and went downstairs in a haste to confront him. When I made it to the top of the stairs, I saw him in the linen closet. I watched him for a second before he emerged with a towel and turned toward the bathroom on the lower level of the home.
Immediately, I questioned why the hell he was showering downstairs as I flew to the bottom of them. Before he could close the door, I pushed it open. As soon as I did, and I saw the expression on his face and the blood spatter on his white button-down, I got the answer I needed.
“What’s up, baby? I thought you were asleep; I was trying not to wake you. Let me shower right quick.” He said. His voice was different; he sounded tired, like his throat was closing.
“Jaxon, I’m leaving,” The words rolled off my tongue like I had practiced them. But I didn’t. Truthfully, my mouth was speaking faster than my heart could.
“KD, what’s wrong with you, Ma?” He sighed, threw the towel on the sink, and reached out to me. Slapping his hands, I stepped backward and glared at him.
“What’s wrong with me? What was yesterday, Jaxon?” I screamed as I folded my arms across my chest. His eyes darted back and forth, as if he were searching his memory, before realization hit him, and he reached out to grab my arm again.
This time, I couldn’t escape the tears that had fallen from my eyes. Yesterday marked the anniversary of our son's passing. My baby, born sleeping, would have been one year old and filling the void that I now felt around the house. What should have been a day that I spent distracted by Jaxon, I was left home alone to sulk in my misery and replay the worst day of my life in Peru.
The entire day, all I could think of was opening up what I thought were flowers, which turned out to be a dismembered body. Images that still haunt me to this day. Then, being so upset that I was rushed to the hospital eight months pregnant, and leaving without the healthy baby whose little feet had kicked me for thirty-three weeks.
I used to hum for my baby in the shower. I told him funny stories about his grandparents, aunts, and uncles. I promised him love and lullabies. Instead, he got blood and a broken mama. And all I got was a scar on my stomach that matched the one in my heart.
Jaxon unbuttoned his dress shirt and dropped it on the floor. Then he pulled me into him and held me as I cried onto his chest. The mixed smell of rusted pennies, gunpowder, and Creed made me nauseous immediately, and I pushed back from him.
“I’m sorry, Ma. I love you.” He said as he kissed my forehead.
I wiped my tears and scoffed. All my emotions, now replaced by anger.
“I know you love me, Jaxon. And you do it well—when you are home.But when you’re gone, I’m out of sight and out of mind. I’m tired of repeating myself; it’s like I’m always begging you to be there. After what happened with our son, you left me three days later. You sent me flowers like I was your coworker. I’m tired of being glued to the phone waiting for you to call and at least let me know you’re safe. I’m tired of jumping out of my sleep every time I hear a noise and wondering if it’s you or someone who means me harm. And I’m sick of this,” I yelled as I used my hands to point out his appearance before I continued.
“You coming home in the wee hours of the morning, smelling like blood and Glock dust. Then getting a distant, fucked up version of you until you finally come back around.” At this point,justloveisn’t enough.”
His jaw ticked as he stood in the middle of the doorway and looked at me, but he didn’t say a word. I know he was letting the words stick as he took them in.
“I’m gone,” I turned toward the door and pulled my robe tighter. If I had to leave in my own car, in the wee hours of the morning, with only a robe on, then that’s just what I would do. I was frustrated, and I needed to put some distance between us.
He gently pulled me back by my elbow. “What I told you about walking away, KD? We're not doing that shit.”
His voice was low but firm. I saw the seriousness in his eyes; the understanding and levelheaded Jaxon had checked out. He was still stuck in assassin mode from whatever he had done earlier. This side of him, that I knew existed but rarely got a chance to witness, was a different beast. So, I wasn’t about to push the issue. At no point had I ever thought that Jaxon would harm me, but I wasn’t curious enough to provoke the crash out in him either.
“Baby, it’s late, let me hop in the shower and we can talk when I get out.” He doubled down.
We had a stare-down before I broke.
“Ugh!” I blew out a frustrated breath as I stomped upstairs towards the guest bedroom and slammed the door, locking it behind me. I hadn’t even meant it when I told him I was leaving him, but now I couldn’t spend another night in this house. Not under the same roof with a man who just doesn’t get it. Or maybe I just didn’t get it. Shit, we just couldn’t get it right.
I pulled back the covers and flopped into bed. The tears came quicker than I could stop them, and I wasn’t going to try to. I knew that I would have to make a decision. It hurt when you had the perfect man, and the thing that he couldn’t give you is the one thing that neither of you were guaranteed. Time. There was a time when I thought this love was safe. But now Jax had made it feel like one of the wars that his organization was always in the middle of. Instead of rival Mafias, it was me and him. And if I had to be honest, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to win.
After lying there for some time, I heard Jaxon twist the doorknob of the room. When it didn’t open, I heard him twist it again. A few moments later, I heard him come back to the door, and it opened. I hated how rigged he and Judah had the security of this house. I rolled my eyes when I heard him push it open.
“KD, come to bed, Ma.”
I didn’t respond, I just kept my back turned and lay perfectly still like I had already fallen asleep, but he knew better. He walked over to the bed and got in with me and turned me so that I could face him.
He pulled me closer to him, and my leg brushed against his naked body underneath the covers. He cupped my face, tilting it to meet him. “Kennedy, you not going nowhere.”
