Once I'm certain I have the facts right, I storm out the screen door. Hearing the creak of the door, Hugo’s eyes lift to mine. He tries to speak, but his words stay entombed in his throat. I sidestep him and stand in front of the bitch who deserves the severity of my wrath.
My palm sets on fire when I slap Victoria so viciously, her head flings to the side.
“You are a piece of shit! Using his grief as a way to dig your claws back into him,” I sneer, my tone dangerously low as an absurd amount of anger crashes into me so hard and fast, I’m nearly sprawled onto my ass.
“You are nothing but a motherfucking whore!” I scream at the top of my lungs.
An arm wraps around my waist and yanks me back. I thrash and kick wildly, fighting against Hugo’s hold. I dig my nails into his arm so hard, I draw blood.
I’ve never been a violent person, but that doesn’t stop me from inflicting as much damage as I can to Hugo’s shins and arms as he carries me down the stairs of the deck and further into the backyard. I violently yank away from him when he places me onto my feet in the garage at the side of the Marshall residence.
“Calm the fuck down,” he says, staring at me with wild eyes. “That wasn’t what it looked like.”
I laugh, a scary menacing laugh that displays what I’d been suspecting the last five days: I no longer have a beating heart in my chest.
“It wasn’t?” I ask, my pitch smeared with bitchiness.
When he shakes his head, I yell, “Then why do you have lipstick smeared on your mouth!?”
Hugo’s eyes widen before he runs the back of his hand over his lips, removing Victoria’s fire engine red lipstick from his mouth. A curse word sweeps from his lips when his eyes absorb the red stain marking his hand. When he takes a step closer to me, I violently shake my head.
“Stay away from me,” I sneer through clenched teeth. “I don’t want you to touch me!”
My words have more of an effect on him than any slap I could have inflicted. He stands across from me, staring but not speaking. Other than his jaw twitching, he stays perfectly still. My gaze turns to Victoria standing at the side entrance of the house. Her eyes are drifting around the surroundings, no doubt seeking Hugo.
I can barely breathe as anger envelopes every fiber in my body. I’m not just angry at them kissing. I’m angry that Hugo left me to deal with my grief alone. No support. No backup. Just left to battle through my grief one tear at a time. He wasn’t the only one who lost Jorgie. I lost her too.
I straighten my shoulders before returning my eyes to Hugo. His fists are clenched, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes.
“You can have her,” I say, nudging my head to Victoria. “Because I deserve way more than you could ever give me.”
With that, I pivot on my heels and exit the garage. He lets me go without a single protest.
Thirty
Hugo
Four weeks later…
“Are you sure you want to pack it all away? He may change his mind?”
My mom’s eyes lift from the box she is packing to peer at me. The normal spark of life that fires her eyes has been snuffed, replaced with a pair of eyes I don’t recognize. They are full to the brim with turmoil and loss. Even though it’s been four weeks since Jorgie passed away, my family is still in the process of grieving. I honestly don’t know if we will ever come to terms with our loss.
“Hawke is never coming back, Hugo. I could see it in his eyes when he said goodbye,” she whispers faintly.
No matter how much I tried to convince Hawke to take some time to properly formulate a rational decision, he re-enlisted in the military the day after Jorgie’s funeral. He left for Iraq two days after that. It almost killed me seeing the devastation of his loss in his eyes. I was struggling losing my baby sister and nephew, but he lost his wife and son in one devastatingly cruel blow. That is more than any man shouldeverhave to go through.
I shadowed Hawke from afar the days following Jorgie’s death, making sure he didn’t do anything to harm himself or anyone around him. Most of his time was spent at the bar on the outskirts of town that refused to hire me several months ago, stating there was no suitable positions for a man like me. I wanted to talk to Hawke, to offer him my support. But when I looked into his eyes, I knew solitude was the only thing he wanted.Silence is the one true friend that never betrays you.
I fold down the flap on a brown moving box and seal it with a large strip of tape before placing it on the stack of boxes at my side. I’ve spent the last several hours aiding my mom in packing up Jorgie’s house. It’s not a task I wanted to complete, but someone had to do it, and I couldn’t leave that burden resting solely on my mom’s shoulders.
Noticing the kitchen and living room have been packed, I move to the main bedroom. Jorgie’s room is untouched, left as it was the day she died. Her perfume bottle is sitting open on her dresser, alongside a small collection of sovereigns she amassed over the years.
A smile tugs on my lips when I spot a button pin for Lake George. Jorgie loved visiting that lake as much as I did. Every school break, my parents would rent the same cabin on the water’s edge. From the age of ten, Ava joined a majority of our family vacations. Like every young boy, I taunted my crush for the entire break. Ava kept me thoroughly entertained.
Lake George is also where Jorgie met Hawke. If you asked Jorgie to explain how they met, she would say he was an angel who fell from heaven and landed in her canoe. It sounded a lot more extravagant than it actually was. In reality, he was climbing a tree to get his clothes I’d thrown up their after he decided on an impromptu skinny dip with a group of college girls.
When a branch cracked under his heavy weight, he assumed the water would soften his fall. He never expected to crash into a wooden canoe. He missed four games over the summer waiting for the bruises on his back to heal and even more weeks than that chasing Jorgie.
