A Puck Between Us

My eyes opened up to the familiar room. The trees outside tossed the suns rays into a random pattern on the floor, like a shimmering kaleidoscope.

I felt my head rise slowly, before I realized I was still on Jeff’s chest. His deep breaths took my head up and down.

I attempted to slide carefully out of bed, before I feel a shift next to me. Glancing up, I see Jeff’s dark charcoal eyes looking down at me, when a warm smile slides on his face.

“Morning.” He mumbled, sitting up and stretching.

“Good Morning.” I smiled, standing up.

“Hungry? I still have some of the stuff I bought when you were here, ya know your favorite cereal and-.” He began before I interrupted.

“Let me serve you breakfast. Please?” I looked at him with hopeful eyes.

“But your arm-“

“It’s the least I can do.” I faked a smile, annoyed the fact he brought up my arm. I had nearly forgotten about it, blocked out the pain you could say, but now it was back, pulsating through my skin.

He pursed his lips, as if undecided. His eyes ran down my arm, as if checking if it seemed okay. Before he could answer, I fluttered off to the kitchen, letting the tile slide under me.

I opened the fridge, taking a few eggs and supplies out and started mixing them in a bowl.

I heard Jeff’s heavy foot steps coming out of his room as he slid into a barstool and watched me.

I glanced up at him before realizing he was staring at me. I remembered how bad I probably looked, with my make up smeared, hair messy. Oh god.

“I probably look a mess right now.” I said, looking back down to the eggs, before fluttering over and turned on the stove.

I started busying myself by finding a pan, as I knew his eyes didn’t leave me.

“You look beautiful, Addison.” He said, as I glanced up at him, matching his small smile. I didn’t feel to beautiful.

I began cooking the eggs, as the smell floated around the kitchen, absorbing us in the delicious smell.

“How is your arm feeling?” He asked, trying to make his voice sound casual, but I knew he was concerned.

“It’s fine.” I lied, as he glared at me, but in a gentle sort of way.

“I have to know how your feeling, or I can’t help you.”

“I’m fine.” I said again, a bit more stern this time.

He saw him close his lips, his eyes shown with an emotion easily readable. I knew why he didn’t say it again. He was afraid if he pushed it to far, I’d burst.

Again.

~*~

When I was finished cleaning the dishes, Jeff went off to go get ready. I wasn’t to eager to change into anything else. I preferred to be wrapped in his scent then back in the bloody clothes.

I decided to go onto his balcony, which looked out into the grassy fields behind his house.

My eyes roamed the fields where we once explored, to my secret cliff facing the town. My mind explored the same memory as I had just earlier in the week, only this time, it didn’t hurt to look back at it.

I heard the glass door slide open behind me, as Jeff stepped out and stood next to me, leaning on the wooden rail.

“There are lots of memories in this town.” He mumbled, examining the fields. I nodded, but he couldn’t tell. He was absorbed in his own memories.

A few moments of silence passed before he turned to me. “Can I tell you a secret?” He asked, his eyes studying me. I nodded, looking up at him.

“You were the first and only girl I ever loved.” He said, confidently. He then turned back to the fields.

I admired him. He didn’t expect me to say it back. He just wanted it out there. He wanted a witness to him saying it, so he would never regret it.

He just wanted me to know.

I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath, before opening them again. I had to tell him, he had to know.

“Do you want to know how I got these injuries?” I asked, as he turned around, his face startled.

“If you want to tell me.” He asked, hesitantly.

“My mom was drunk again, she has been ever since I came home. She tried burning my dad’s things, and I tried to stop her.” I said, not breaking eye contact, my voice didn’t break. It stayed fluid. Once I told him, it was as if a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.

His face became unreadable, as he slowly slid of my sleeve and part of my shirt, to show the cut and bruises. His fingers ran gingerly along a large purple and brown spot on my hip.

“That’s why you sent Emerson away.” He said, his voice not forming a question.

“Yes.”

“You could have sent him here.”

“I know.” I said, looking at the boards, not making eye contact.

“I could have kept him safe, I could have kept you safe. I could have prevented this.” He said, but it seemed as if he was speaking to himself more than anyone.

“I’m so horrible.” I said, as I felt two fingers bring my chin up to face me.

“It’s not your fault, Addi. You did what’s right.” He said, running his fingers over my cheeks. Guilt was over whelming me. I had to tell him. He had to know.

“I’m a horrible mom.” I spit out, as his face froze. I instantly wished I could take those words back, as his hands slid away from my face.

“Your, and Emerson, and.” He said, instantly counting the moths he’s been gone.

“Emerson’s not your brother.” He mumbled, as I turned away to the fields.

“You were two months pregnant. Why didn’t you tell me?” He said, his voice gaining volume as I bit my lip. He spun me around to face him, keeping his hands on my elbows.

“Were you cheating on me? Is that why you didn’t tell me?” He began raising his voice louder and louder.

I just started up at him, tears spreading across my eyes. I couldn’t conjure up the word I needed.

“How could you lie to me! How could you have cheated on me? I thought you loved me!” He began shouting out random guesses.

“No.” I squeaked out, my eyes letting the tears fall.

“Yes you did! You were two months pregnant-“

“He’s yours!”

“He’s…mine?” He whispered, suddenly loosing all anger.

“He’s your son, Jeff. He has your eyes. He’s you.” I began to choke out, tears falling faster.

“He’s yours. He’s yours.” I kept repeating, as his hands left me, causing me to slide down to the hard wooden deck.

I curled my knees toward me as I continued saying the same word, while Jeff stood motionless in front of me, in shock most likely.

He’s yours, Jeff.

Emerson’s yours.