September 2006

“Can I give you a ride?”

The shouted question manages to filter into my ears despite the smooth sounds of Lyfe Jennings being played through my new MP3 player. The tiny round device is gripped in my hand, and I press twice on small buttons on the side, turning up the volume. Used to living in a big city amidst a cacophony of noise, I make to ignore the shouter when the call comes again, louder this time.

I stop where I am on the sidewalk and look at the road beside me with a blank face. A truck has pulled up next to me, the cumbersome thing more likely to be found in a farmer’s field then out on the main road. It’s so dusty that the red of it shows up a pale pink, the handles on the door turning rusty with age. The window is rolled down to reveal a white boy inside, the top of his head reaching the ceiling of the car.

Tousled and curly dark brown hair is the first thing I see, followed by sunglasses resting atop an aristocratic nose. Pleasant lips have formed a smile and bright white teeth shine in the glow of the afternoon. I tilt my head to the side while taking in the whole picture, trying to understand.

“Do I know you?” I ask him but I’m already well aware that the answer is no. But that’s to be expected, I had only just moved to Breckenridge, Colorado this summer and I didn’t know anyone in the resort town. Set against the backdrop of a stellar mountain range, the rough landscape was a far cry from the city of Denver where I’d grown up. 

I hadn’t kicked up a fuss when my parents had decided to make our bi-annual vacation spot a permanent home; I was the late in life child of my parents and the youngest of three, the ‘rents were getting on in age. My mom had already retired and my dad was close to it; I was unwilling to burden them with my childish complaints of leaving my friends and social life right before entering my junior year of high school. And things hadn’t been that bad really, I mean there was MySpace and I’d managed to beg for the new Razor cellphone currently in my pocket. These things had made staying in contact with my old friends easy enough, but I had been somewhat lonely for the past few weeks since I was naturally an introvert. Meeting new people and making friends had never been easy for me and if I was truthful with myself, I hadn’t really been trying very hard.

So, I knew the boy in the truck knew me not at all and I wondered what his game was. A whisper of my mother’s voice flitted through my head; never let them take you to a secondary location. Maybe not totally applicable at the moment but it never hurt to be cautious.

“I’ve seen you in Mrs. Heathers’ class, you sit in the front row and I’m in back.” The boy said again, his voice deep and soothing, like the first sips of good hot chocolate.

“Oh...” I muttered weakly, still not quite sure what to say next.

“You live in those new houses out on Horse Creek right? I can drop you off.” He tried again, this time a bit more gently, as if he knew I was ready to bolt.

I pulled at the strap of my book-bag nervously and turned my head away from the brightness of his smile. My freshly straightened hair fell in a curtain that hid the side of my face and I fidgeted while he waited for my response.

“I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to ride with strangers,” I mumbled again, hoping he’d take the hint. I was no good at confrontation and more to the point, I didn’t want to actually say no. Maybe this would scare him off, show him just how much of a child I was. Because even though we must’ve been the same age, this boy looked and sounded much more like a man than I looked like a woman.
 

“Well then... ok,” he said still sounding sunny and not deterred at all.

“If that’s the case then I’ll just tell you my name and then we won’t be strangers anymore! I’m James Jacobs, but everyone calls me Jaime. I play Lacrosse and my teammates call me Superman because of my name. You know, like how comic book characters always have those names with alliteration? Like Peter Parker or Bruce Banner?”

I nodded my head in the affirmative, just a little taken aback that this jock type knew what the word alliteration even meant. I supposed my bias towards him faded in that moment and caught up with my own thoughts, when he asked me for my name I didn’t hesitate.

“Zayne Miller,” I replied, my voice strangely steady. “It’s nice to meet you.”  The automatic social nicety slipped out and I was once again blinded by Jaime’s smile. Adjusting himself in his car seat he leaned even further out of the passenger side window and took off his sunglasses. What I saw next would haunt my dreams for weeks.

What the dark shades had covered up so heinously had to be the most beautifully mesmerizing blue eyes. The exact color of the ocean, they twinkled at me in laughter and the corners of his eyes tilted up mischievously. It was those eyes that probably made me lose my mind and let him take me home that day despite all parental guidance that would have made me stay away. But I had never regretted it.

Love evokes a bittersweet feeling. You never really understand what that means until it happens to you. That first time you saw that person and the way your heartbeat skipped. The first time you touched, and sparks literally jumped from his hands to yours. Or the terribly sweet feeling of a first kiss because that’s the most special one.

Every one after that will be for a purpose; to say goodbye or to tell them you’re happy that they’re here. To let them know that you still feel something even after years have gone by. But that first one is so perfect because of its unexpected goodness and it tightens your chest until it feels like something will explode but you aren’t sure what it is. And then you realize later; it was your world, your galaxy. It broke all to pieces and got put back together with that other person as your center. And later on that year when Jaime gave me my first kiss, he became my everything.

Winter 2014

The weight of my eyelids in the morning were at least two tons each. I was sure of this fact and so each time I awoke, I always kept them shut. Even after I’d turned off my alarm and made my way into our en-suite bath, I never once opened my eyes. As long as they’re closed, I can imagine that I’m still asleep and everything is still blissfully dark and quiet. It’s a silly routine maybe but it’s one I’ve had since I was a kid struggling to rise at the crack of dawn for school. The only downside? Potential catastrophic run-in’s with toilets.

“Jamie help me!” I yelled out in anguish, tears filling my eyes. Mere seconds later the bathroom door burst open and my husband stood there in a shirt and tie, his slacks around his ankles. He looked around in wide-eyed panic, only stopping when I snapped my fingers at him.

“I’m stuck again you dummy! How many times have I asked you to put down the toilet seat?” I griped as I tried in vain to wiggle myself unstuck.

A smile broke out across the handsome face of the man I had been with since senior year of high school; eight years later and he was still annoying the hell out of me. Laughing he grabbed my upper arms and with a slight pop I was released from the porcelain bowl. Pushing him away as he continued giggling I rubbed at the sore spots on my bottom, it’s usual brown tone a decided shade of red.

“It’s not funny doofus. I could’ve died!” I complained feeling indignant.

“Honey, I told you to stop going to the bathroom in the dark, you’re bound to fall in if you can’t see.” Jaime reasoned and I pretended as though I hadn’t heard the sensible words.

“Hmmph, I wouldn’t get the chance fall in if you put down the seat! You’re driving me nuts.” I snarked, wiping away the cold water that still lingered on my and thighs with pieces of tissue.

“I’m sorry babe, from now on I’m going to make sure it’s down ok?” Pulling up his pants, Jaime sent me a wink, flashing me those blue eyes that had captured me all to easily on the first day of school so many years ago. I wanted to continue to pout but with mischief in his eyes, he drew me into his arms for a kiss and I went unresistingly, knowing that I had little defense against him.

Frustrated but wonderful, that was what Jaime made me feel.

It was still early morning but now that I was firmly yanked from my sleepy stupor, we got ready for our respective days together, the simple act of brushing our teeth done in companionable silence. He finished before I did, but returned with his Glock pistol and badge, his recent promotion to detective one that was adjustment. Now in plainclothes for his work, I missed the black uniform that had nicely shown his muscular figure. But as I turned from the sink and eyed his behind as he walked back and forth into our bedroom, I couldn’t help but be pleased with this view too.

“Jaime, I’m showing the Porters another house today and I need to get some coffee in me before I go in or I may lose it. Can you drop me off your way to the bank this morning?”

“Yeah sure, but it’s that same couple again? What, isn’t this like the twelfth place?”

“Uh huh, they’re really difficult, neither one of them know what they want, they just know if they don’t like something. And they always find something they don’t like.” I rolled my eyes heavenward and Jaime ran his fingers through my hair, the pressed strands flowing through his fingers.

“You’re the best real estate agent in town, I know you can figure it out. And if logic doesn’t work, I’ll come beat em up!”  He declared while balling his hands into fist and punching imaginary foes all over our bathroom.

“My hero,” I deadpanned and spat toothpaste foam into the sink.

“I really don’t care what you say babe, pineapple on pizza is for heathens. No one of good sense would put a sweet fruit on a savory slice of cheese, bread, and tomato sauce. It’s just nasty,” I reasoned once again, emphasizing the sense part of my words.

“Master chefs all over the world recognize the mixture of sweet and savory, it’s like cooking basics. You have to branch out and be willing to try new things!” Jaime argued while gesturing wildly with his hands, a habit he’d had since I’d known him. I shook my head as he continued his tirade, our current fussing dealing with choices for dinner. Neither of us even wanted pizza but somehow we’d gotten into the topic of good toppings on our drive over to the bank and here we were ten minutes later still discussing the, much hated by me, tropical fruit.

Our town was smaller than average, it took only twenty minutes to drive through the whole of it before you were just on the highway headed into the next city, but I loved it here. Quiet and comfortable, everyone mostly knew everyone else. Head nods and hellos greeted us as we made our way inside and waited in the line that was about seven people deep. The negatives of the small town we resided in were thus; in most cases there was only one of everything and everyone used it. I let out a small sigh and Jaime and I took our place in line, his latest woodworking commission check in his hands.

After getting into a bet with his friends one year to enter in the county fair’s art competition, Jaime had put his weekend hobby to good use and won first place. His coffee table entry had been wonderfully detailed and had earned him a spot in the local paper. Nowadays it wasn’t unusual for a request to come in and Jaime seemed to relish the work. I had asked him why he wouldn’t make his craft his full time employment since he enjoyed it so much, but Jaime liked working in the city and protecting people; he enjoyed feeling needed. I didn’t fully understand it, but as long as he was happy, I was.

While we waited our turn, Jaime continued to tell me about the benefits of adding strawberries to regular salad, and I in turn talked about his high level of insanity. I was facing the door, thinking about my upcoming walk to my office when I see a man in a ski mask making his way towards us. It’s cold outside but not that cold, and my mind is moving too slowly trying to understand what it’s seeing, the thoughts like mud through a strainer. Even so I’m not shocked when the glass doors to the building were pushed in roughly, and they hit the walls behind them as they swung inward, making everyone turn in surprise. What made everyone panic though, was the precise shot that rang in the room, and the old guard who sat at the entrance crumpling to the floor, his hands over his chest. I watched in horror as he choked for air that wouldn’t come, my limbs numb. The masked man wastes no time in brandishing his gun around the place, telling everyone to stay where they are as he makes his way to the front of the line. The lady teller seems to be in shock too, but a gun to the face wakes her from the stupor.

“Fill it up!” He roars and she starts to move.

The man turns to check for cameras and shoots two in quick succession amid people’s cries of terror. Pulling me sharply to the side, Jaime and I hid behind the table and chairs that were to the far right of the room, away from the screams and commotion that took place in the center.

“It’s alright,” He told me firmly, his eyes boring into mine. “It’s alright, we’re going to be safe here. Just stay quiet.”

I nodded, too afraid to speak, too afraid to make noise as yells echoed and bounced off the walls, demands of cash shouted out among others that were threats, promising death if we tried anything. I felt my body start to shake and I reached for Jaime’s hand, needing him to ground me. As long as he was with me, everything would be ok.

The masked man grabbed one woman by the wrist and yanked her close. His gun shifted to point at her temple and she cried and whimpered, begging him to let go. The teller’s eyes widened in terror and she moved even faster, stuffing the thrown bag with as much money as she could.

“Hurry up!” He yelled, shaking the woman once more. Her hands went to her stomach and now I could see past the folds of her coat; she was pregnant. Dread filled my stomach and her yelp of pain made Jaime flinch beside me. All at once I knew what he was thinking.

“Jaime please, don’t go,” I whispered frantically, my words getting caught in my throat. Dammit, I knew he wanted to help but I needed him with me. Terror was rocking through me, making me light headed but he only squeezed my hand hard, sending me a confident smile that he’d conjured out of nowhere.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right back baby. I promise.”

“Jaime no,” I moaned but he was already gone, my fingers cold where his warm ones had once been.

I watched as he moved, quickly and as silent as always, the chairs and desks working to hide his progress. The woman’s cries of panic hadn’t lessened in volume and while the robber shook her, demanding her silence, Jaime crept ever closer.

“That’s all of it!” The teller said loudly forcing the man’s attention away from the soon to be mother. The gym bag he’d at her upon his entrance was now filled to the brim with bills. With a grin he flings the woman away and she crashes to the floor, a startled cry flying from as she lands. Thankfully he wasn’t forceful and she doesn’t land hard but I see Jaime’s jaw tense in anger.

My hands are sweaty and I can feel my nails digging into my palms from balling my fingers into fists. I can only watch as he springs forward while the man grabs for the bag, his gun lowered.

It happens immediately. And somehow that surprises me because in every movie I’ve ever seen, every drama or book I’ve read, these things are supposed to happen in slow motion. The scenes are written with excruciating detail and full of innocuous bits and pieces intended on making that most critical moment last for as long as possible.

But reality is cold, hard, and unrelenting. It’s nothing like the media portrays it; in truth life is lost in an instant. A twist of his face in shock; from the pain or just in surprise. A clenching of his fist as he falls, the way he mutters my name when I scream. It all takes place in seconds and my whole world shatters just as quickly. In a millisecond everything changes.

No matter how many times I’ve tried to remember it, it’s always just a blur. I don’t know anything but that I ran to him, that I held my hands over his chest to try and stop the bleeding. His eyes held mine as his blood crept over my fingers, washing them in red. I told him over and over again not to leave me as those bright blue orbs dimmed into lifelessness. And in that moment, in that fragment of time that seemed too fleeting to be real, it was then that I lost him.

A/N: Whew first chapter done! I know it went quickly guys but it's the  prologue and needs must! I'm super excited to get to the angst because this is gonna be a doozy. IF you're into emotions and  realism, this fic is for you, a hundred percent. I'm hoping that you guys will like it and continue following me for more content as well as reading my finished works and other stories that I'm still in the middle of! Thanks so much to all of you for your support and please remember to COMMENT, UPVOTE and SUBSCRIBE for more content! Much love, <3!