Page 1 of Axe
Prologue
Axe
I woke with a jolt. The images stopped playing in my head but the feeling still lingered on. Every part of my body was twitchy and my heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest.
My eyes moved to the figure next to me in the bed. Jessica stirred as I took in a few more calming breaths. She rolled over, throwing her arm over my abdomen. I knew she was awake, but she stayed silent. She didn’t try to console me or ask what was wrong. She simply let me know that she was there. Her touch was only a reminder that this was reality, and that was exactly what I needed from her.
I closed my eyes as I tried to get my breathing under control. This was why we worked. She gave me ‘the normal,’ as we liked to call it. The thing that I thought I craved the most but never had. She didn’t try to make me open up—to talk about the fucked up things in my head, and I didn’t ask the same of her. We both had an understanding of how messed up the world could be and we both recognized that in each other.
Minutes passed, maybe hours, I had no clue. The darkness of the room and the stillness of the air surrounded me like a soft blanket. I liked the shadows and the silence. Maybe that was proof of how messed up I was.
I could tell by Jessica’s breathing that she was still awake. When she took in a deep breath of air, I knew what was to follow. And I wasn’t surprised in the least.
“This isn’t working,” she said bluntly.
I resisted the eye roll because it was the same song and dance we always went through. I’d heard that line too many times before, but that wasn’t to say that I disagreed with it.
“Okay,” I said, my tone emotionless as always.
I’d give it a week and we’d be right back to it.
It had been the same thing for years now, but we could never seem to make it work for very long before one of us called for a break. I would like to have said that I had no idea why, but the truth was, I did. I understood it so well that I should have known better than to try again. Yet, I’d go back every time and so did she.
“No, Axe, I mean it this time.” She paused and I could feel her eyes searching for mine through the pitch black darkness of the room. Even though I couldn’t see her, I could feel the hole she was burning through me with her gaze. She wanted me to take her seriously and I couldn’t help but feel like something bigger than the usual break-up words were coming. “I’m done.”
And that stopped me. Left me frozen for a long moment. Those two words were something she’d never said before.
Feeling it was at the end too, I nodded. I knew she could feel the movement against her head even if she couldn’t see it. And while I should have felt some kind of concern, some kind of gaping hole in my chest, I didn’t feel much of anything. This was the final nail. The end of the road. And I was alright with that.
I knew this wasn’t some kind of game she was trying to play and she didn’t want me to make any attempt to get her to change her mind. She was only being honest and I couldn’t blame her. That was the part that did gut me a little. If only I could have been honest at the right times, then maybe it could have worked. Or maybe we would have ended up pulling each other further into the darkness.
I could feel her body expand as she took in a deep breath and after a long moment, she rolled out of the bed. As she gathered her clothes in silence, I kept my eyes trained on the ceiling. She moved about in the darkened room like she knew where everything was. Hell, she probably did. She had spent enough time in here, I wouldn’t doubt she knew the layout like the back of her hand. And it wasn’t like the room was all that big anyway.
She left without another word, the light from the hall spilling in as she opened the door. Her steps were unhurried as she walked out. She wasn’t rushing from the room upset. She wasn’t angry or regretful about what had just happened. She made her exit just as if it were any other time that she’d left. She didn’t even turn her head for one last, lingering look back before she closed the door behind her.
I lay there a long time, my steady breaths the only sound in the room. Half of me didn’t really believe it was the end, and not in a hopeful way. It was just that we had done this so many times before. But her words rang out over and over again.
I’m done.
And then I gave into the truth of the whole thing. We were done—with something that had truly never started to begin with.
