Chapter 8

Jared

The darkness is trying to come out. It was never like this with Laynie before. It just clarifies my previous thoughts on something happening this past year. Of course, now I know what that was. I put my hands on my girlfriend. On my wife. I used to kick guy's asses in high school if they even talked shit about their girlfriends. Now I'm one of those pricks. No, I'm worse. I cannot believe I have ever put my hands on her. When the detectives told me about her previous injuries, I knew. I just knew I had done something wrong. I may not remember but I could feel the darkness trying to escape. It feels stronger than it used to.

When me and Laynie started dating in high school it almost vanished. I knew it was still there but it was never present around her. When my mother finally passed from her illness, I thought it would try to come out. I know I needed a release of some kind to escape the pain of the loss I had, but Laynie was there for me the whole time making the darkness only linger on the edges of my mind. Now though. Now I feel it trying to consume me. How easy it would be to just give in to it. Is that what I did before? Simply give in and hurt her? My sweet Laynie?

We haven't gotten a chance to talk about everything with so much going on, but I can see her sorrow. I can feel her fear. She doesn't think I notice, but I see when she hesitates to touch me. I used to crave her touch. I was obsessed with it. The darkness must have found its way to the surface. It doesn't make sense to me.

I wake from a bizarre nightmare a little drossy from the pain medication and I don't see her nor Alan. I feel a little strange calling this place home. I am a little familiar with it only because it reminds me so much of my father's home in New York. Three bedrooms two bath. Same layout, same furniture, same coldness that reeks of pain and misery. I get up and look towards the kitchen, distinctly remember Laynie saying something about making dinner. God how I love that women's cooking. That reminds me to ask her if her work knows she was attacked. I stop in my tracks when I see something that makes my heart freeze. Alan is leaning into Laynie. Extremely close. Too close. I briefly wonder what they are doing when I see him murmur something in her ear, then I lose it. The darkness seeps through.

"What the fuck are two doing?" I hobble over, angry that I can't move faster.

I briefly see Laynie cower and move to the small space in between the refrigerator and the pantry door, when Alan blocks my path to her with his hands up.

"Dude what the fuck? What do you think is going on? That we were screwing behind your back? Waiting you for you to get out of the hospital, where we can do it in your kitchen when you're in the next room?" he says angrily.

Shit, leave it to Alan to make a joke out of my anger. I hear Laynie crying in the little crawlspace and that makes the darkness recede. What the hell was that about?

"Laynie?" I call out to her.

I head to her but Alan blocks my view. I see her staring straight ahead like she is stunned. She looks like she is in the midst of a panic attack.

"You need to give her a minute man. Let her see you're not upset and that you're just being an idiot."

I look at Laynie who is trying to pull herself together but is still in the damn small spot next to the fridge. How did she even get in there? I nod at my best friend and slowly walk backwards out of the kitchen. I hobble over to the couch where I had just awaken, already feeling tired again. I'll feel better once I'm off these damn pain meds. I look around the apartment trying to keep my head clear so that I'm not focused on the episode I just caused. I can briefly hear Alan speaking with Laynie and as much as I want to go check on her I know she needs some time away from me.

I take a look around the living room to kill some time. I notice there are no personal items. No pictures of us up, no knick-knacks from us traveling around. I don't even see a speck of dust. I tend to be pretty damn messy so that seems odd. If anyone were to walk in they would never guess we lived here. Looks more like a catalog. After a few minutes Alan walks in the room, no Laynie in tow and sits next to me. He sighs loud and exaggerative.

"You know, I've been your best friend for over twenty years. I would never do something to hurt you. I love Laynie, but like a sister, you know that." He explains.

I did know that. Deep down I knew that Alan would never betray me in such a way. I wish I could express my gratitude for him coming down to help me and for making sure Laynie is okay in there. I just can't find the words to tell my friend that I think I may need help. I'm too weak.

"Yeah man, I know, sorry, just walked in on you guys talking closely and with these meds making me all delirious, I jumped to conclusions." I try to explain.

Alan slaps my back, belches in my face and tell me dinner is ready. I shake my head and smile at his antics and walk back into the kitchen following Alan. I notice Laynie is serving a little extra sauce on my curry, just the way I like it. I look around wondering what the norm is for us eating, when she hands me my plate with a shy smile and points me in the direction of the dining table, putting me out of my awkward misery. The dining table is just like my father's. I walk over and put my plate down and pull out her chair. She looks at me a little unsure but sits. She says a small thank-you that makes my chest swell. She hasn't said much to me in two days. My girl used to talk my ear off about everything. A sense of guilt weighs down on me when I realize I'm the cause of all these changes I see in her.

Dinner is filled with mostly silence. Alan makes the occasional joke that we force laughs at, but other than that its silent and uncomfortable. When Alan explains he got a hotel a few miles away and will catch up with us tomorrow, we say a quick goodbye then close the door behind him. Laynie has her head down, I notice she does that a lot, so I lift her chin so that her eyes meet mine. Damn she is beautiful.

"Laynie can we talk? I mean, if you're up to it?" I ask.

Her lip quivers like she is going to cry and looks around the kitchen.

"I'll clean tomorrow, or I can clean now If you want." I explain in a rush, not wanting to upset her.

She looks back at me and her eyes get wide.

"No, it's okay we can talk, I'm just going to grab a quick shower and take my pain medicine if that's okay?" she says quickly, putting her head back down.

She really is killing me with her keeping her head down. I grab her chin again, a littler firmer this time, and lift so that I can see her beautiful brown eyes.

"Of course, babe. I'll be right here when you get back." I say to her in a calm tone. I don't want to scare her.

She nods then slowly walks down the hall to what I'm assuming is the main bedroom. I hobble back over to the couch already in pain, and sit with my head against the headrest. I close my eyes and think about how me and Laynie used to picture our home. We would talk about it at night when she stayed over my place. Pictures ubiquitously, with keepsakes all over, paintings all over the walls. Her cooking dinner in our open spaced chefs' kitchen. Me coming home from work with pink roses because those were her favorite.

That was our future, and it sounded perfect to both of us. When I open my eyes, I look around the room and can feel a sense of dolefulness. What have I done to her?