Page 155 of A Love That Broke Us
My lips tremble, and fear claws at my throat. “You’re scaring me,” I whisper. “I’m going to sleep at Matt’s tonight, alright?”
“No!” he cries out. “Don’t leave. Don’t leave me, babe.” His face crumples—grief, terror, all of it—and then he’s sobbing. Not crying.
Sobbing.
“Please don’t leave me with them.”
Them?
I look around, my heart feeling like it’s going to beat right out of my chest. “Who?” I ask, barely able to get the word out.
“Them! They’re everywhere.” He grabs my hands, pleading. “Please don’t leave me with them. I’m scared. Please, babe. Please. I’m so scared.”
I know he’s hallucinating, but whatever he’s seeingfeelsreal. Like his demons are now mine—thick as fog, settling over everything, suffocating, and all-consuming.
The fear in his eyes tugs at my heart. I can’t leave him like this. I search his face, desperate for a flicker of Jensen. Even a shred of him. Hehasto be in there. But I can’t find him.
He’s gone.
And it breaks my fucking heart.
Because I feel it—deep in my bones—in my goddamn soul. This is it. This is the last time.
This is the end.
I want so badly for him to come out of it. To fight for me. To say something—anything.But he doesn’t even know where he is. He doesn’t know his wife is standing here, scared out of her mind. That today was our anniversary. That he missed it.
That he left me sitting alone at dinner.
He quit.
He gave up.
On me.
On himself.
On us.
And now he’s losing me. BecauseI can’t do thisanymore.
I inhale deeply, trying to steady my trembling body. “I’ll stay if you lay down and go to sleep,” I say. My voice is low and stern. “I’m serious, Jensen. Not another word. If you get up or speak, I’ll leave.”
He nods, collapsing against me. His arms wrap tight around my body, his cries muffling into my shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you. I love you so much.”
I rub my palm up and down his back, tightening my hold around him as a quiet sob shakes through me—one I try to hold in but fail. “I love you too,” I whisper.
I hold him for as long as I can, for as long as my heart can take it. Knowing deep down that this might be the last time he holds me like this—even if he’s just clinging to me out of fear, holding on for dear life.
I don’t want to remember it this way, so I force my mind to the memories that matter. All the tender ways Jensen’s touched me over the years. The way his hands made me feel loved. The way they always made me feel safe. Protected.
They never made me feel like this.
I pull back, cupping his cheek, and kiss his forehead. “Go lay down, alright?”
I flip off the light, and climb back into bed, hoping it’s for the last time tonight. Jensen slides in next to me.
He doesn’t get up again. He doesn’t speak. And eventually, he falls asleep.
