Jaded (The Butterfly Memoirs) (28 page)

I ground my teeth. My life wasn’t fair. Every time I found something to be happy about, killjoy kicked me in the nuts and stole everything.

Visiting my best friend for the weekend ended in the death of my father.

The first time I was supposed to be married, discovering my mother had cancer threw a monkey wrench in the plan.

Now that I married the women of my dreams, my mother died without a warning.

“It was selfish of my mother to keep her dying a secret.” I didn’t hide the anger in my voice.

Yasmine stared at me. “What?”

“Think about it. I did everything in my power for the last two years to see she had what she needed. I took her to doctor’s appointments, paid for prescriptions her insurance didn’t cover, held her hand while she threw up from chemo. It was work, and I didn’t care. She needed me. Even after everything was supposed to be okay, I still took care of her, Yasmine. When she found out no matter what either of us did, she was still going to die, she kept that to herself. What kind of shit was that?”

When I glanced her way, I noticed her expression was one of unease. I’m sure what I said was nothing like what she thought it would be.

“For the past few months she pushed me away. ‘You need to get a life’, ‘you need to be married’, and ‘you don’t have to keep sitting around keeping me company,” I huffed. “Why didn’t she come out and tell me, ‘I’m dying, get used to not having to take care of me?’ Obviously it’s what she wanted.” I sat up; Yasmine’s hand slid off my chest.

“Zack…maybe she…”

“She what? Didn’t think I could handle knowing the truth? I’m a grown man. Who took care of her when no one else would?
I did.
I deserved to know what was going on. I should have been told she was dying, okay? I should have had time to prepare for it, not find out during the happiest time of my life. During our honeymoon? That was unfair to you…to us.”

Unable to sit still, I got out of bed and stormed naked around the room. The pain in my chest needed an outlet. Unfortunately my wife was in the room. I struggled to aim my anger at any and everything else but her.

“But Zack, what if…”

“What if what?” I snapped. “What if she thought I was too soft?”

“No, what if she didn’t want you worrying about her? What if she wanted you to live your life and not get stuck in hers?”

I stopped pacing.

“I’m serious. I think she was afraid if you knew she was dying you’d push everything away. Your job…me.”

My eyes narrowed. “Why would I risk losing the one person in my life I was sure was there for me? Why would I push you away?”

Her eyes widened. “Because you did it before.”

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t push Melissa away. I asked her for help, told her I loved and needed her, but she ran. You were never that way. You were already there, helping me, helping her. Hell, you even moved in. I never would have had to ask you because you were always there.”

Yasmine stared down at her hands.

I resumed walking. “I should have been there; I would have known something was wrong. But you were there while I worked over-time. Could you tell something wasn’t right? Could you see the signs? If you did, I know you would have…,” I stopped dead in my tracks. Yasmine continued to stare at her hands, never meeting my stare. “You knew?”

Her eyes closed and tears fell.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” My knees went weak and I leaned against the dresser in disbelief. “Yasmine…
you knew
?”

More silence, more tears.

My heart dropped in my chest. “You knew she was dying and didn’t tell me.”

“Zack, she made me promise—”

“How did you know?” My chest tightened to the point where breathing felt impossible. My fists balled.

“She told me—”

“She told you, but not me.” I ground out.

Yasmine kneeled on the bed and held out her hands. “Don’t be mad. I wanted to tell you but she made me promise. She wanted to be sure you didn’t break up with me.”

“That is bullshit.” My jaw throbbed from the grinding of my molars. “Why would she tell you, someone she hardly knew, but keep it from me, her son?”

Yasmine flinched as if I slapped her. My words were harsh, but I didn’t give a shit. The woman I pledged my love to knew more about my mother’s health than I did. The woman I married kept a secret from me, something I should have known.

“She wanted you to be happy, Zack. She didn’t want you to sit by watching her die.” Yasmine got out of bed and walked over to me. She reached out and I pushed her hand away.

“And you obviously thought I was too weak to handle the truth. What kind of man do you think I am? Because I cared about my mother’s wellbeing I would be emotionally cut off from loving you because she was dying?”

I’d never yelled at Yasmine before, much less anyone else in my life. I was unable to control my temper. Of all the things to deal with, learning my wife knew what was going on with my mother and kept it from me was unforgivable.

“You should have told me. It wasn’t your right, hell; it wasn’t her right to assume you knew how I would respond. You’re as bad as Melissa.”

Yasmine’s mouth dropped; her eyes wide with shock.

Finding out the two of them felt they knew what was best for me was more than I could handle.

I needed to get out of here. If I didn’t I would say something I could never take back.

I grabbed my jeans from the floor, dressed, and stepped into some shoes. An empty gym bag sat at the bottom of the closet. I stormed around the room and grabbed clothes, stuffing them into the bag.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Yasmine followed me, panic in her voice.

I tuned her out and continued to pack.

“Zack, you’re scaring me. Talk to me, please. We can work this out. I’m sorry, I am so sorry…”

I stopped, took a deep breath, and forced myself to face her. Fear was on her face and in her eyes. She clasped her hands over her chest.

Her heart could not be hurting as much as mine. I was betrayed by the two women I loved more than life itself.

Part of me wanted to drop my bag and pull her in my arms.

The other part wanted to cuss her out for robbing me of the time I had left with my mother.

I’d be able to forgive my mother. But Yasmine…

“I need to get away from here, from you. I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.” I clutched my chest as pain shot to my heart, and oddly enough, to the ring on my hand.

“Why would you say that? I was doing what you mother asked me to do! I didn’t agree with it, Zack. You don’t know how many times I wanted to tell you, how close I came to telling you. I am so sorry! I should have listened to myself and not your mother.”

I pursed my lips and held up a hand. “No, don’t apologize now, it’s way too late. There’s nothing you can say or do to make me change the way I feel about you right now.”

Yasmine sunk to her knees on the floor in front of me, sobbing.

“I’m gone.”

I strapped the bag over my shoulder, jogged down the steps, and grabbed my key out of the dish at the door.

I didn’t look back.

Chapter 36

He’ll come home…he’s got to come home.

I sat in the living room all night repeating that mantra.

When I promised to keep Ms. Belinda’s secret from him, I failed to calculate the cost. I didn’t consider how he’d feel if he ever found out.

What had I done?

We’d been married for less than a month and I’d already failed as a wife.

The image of Zack’s pained expression plagued me every time I closed my eyes.

‘
There’s nothing you can say or do to make me change the way I feel about you right now
.’

The pain of his words radiated through my body, making it hard to breathe.

I huddled under the covers of the throw blanket on the sofa, clutched my cell phone, and ran my thumb over the blank screen. No matter how many times I called, he didn’t answer. It didn’t take much to figure out where he’d gone; his mother’s house. Every part of me wanted to go there and beg for forgiveness and pray he would understand the reason why I kept his mother’s secret.

But a part of me wondered how much had been done for Ms. Belinda?

How much had been done for me?

Sacrifices were made by both of us since the night we found Ms. Belinda on the bathroom floor. Moving up our wedding date, continuing to stay with her even though Zack wanted me to move in with him…none of it was a hardship because I had come to love Ms. Belinda as my own mother before Zack and I acknowledged our feelings. I did my best to persuade him to stop working to pay for our honeymoon, but of course there was no way for him to understand without me telling him the truth.

Even though Vegas had been wonderful, I would have been just as happy leaving the ceremony and returning to our home. Being with him was what was important, not the location.

If Zack had found out, she would have been angry, but at least the two of them would have acknowledged the fact their time was running out and made the best of it.

Ms. Belinda’s anger with me would have been easier to deal with than my husband no longer trusting me.

My fear of losing him had manifested anyway. I should have known this would happen. With my relationship track record filled with lies, deceit, and heartbreak, I was destined to be alone.

Carlos promised to love me, but decided having his choice of women was far more important.

Javan played mental games. One moment we were lovers without strings, and then out of the blue, he proposed. I never questioned his intentions because it felt good to have someone want me. How was I supposed to know it was a lie to cover his ass?

And now Zack.

The one man who proved beyond a doubt he loved me. He’d been perfect, done nothing wrong. This time, it was my fault.

I allowed my vulnerability and Ms. Belinda’s reasoning to persuade me to keep Zack in the dark. I should have trusted our relationship to be strong enough to know he wouldn’t leave me.

Damn Melissa for popping back up in his life. If she hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have been afraid. So what if the woman had personality flaws? She was beautiful. She had something with Zack I didn’t have….a history. She had been the woman he wanted to marry.

How could I compete with that?

I was nothing but a woman who slipped beneath his relationship radar.

He was right, I had assumed the worst. If Melissa ran away from him because of the work it took to care for his mother, why would I do the same when I lived there? I already helped. I would have been there even if he didn’t want me to be because I would have been there for her.

Why didn’t I think about this before?

I was so stupid.

I pushed the button on my phone and brought the screen saver to life. An image of our wedding day appeared. Zack stood behind me, his hands wrapped around my waist possessively. Smiles of contentment, love, and joy were on our faces.

Four days of wedded bliss felt as if it happened a million years ago.

How were we ever going to find that feeling again?

I said a brief prayer, then sent Zack another text apologizing and begging him to come home. The chances of him replying to the text were greater than expecting him to answer the phone.

After all, he wasn’t sure how he felt about me.

I had to remain positive. Negativity already permeated our relationship.

I had to believe he would forgive me. I had to believe my husband would return to me. When he did, it needed to feel like home.

For the past two weeks, boxes of my stuff taken out of storage had sat around the living room. The stress of losing his mother and planning a funeral didn’t leave time to settle in. With nothing else to do and not scheduled to work, I unpacked.

Chapter 37

My eyes stung from sweat as I beat the punching bag.

I panted, sized up my target, attacked. My entire body ached. How long had I been doing this? Minutes? Hours?

My arms felt like eighty pound weights from exhaustion, and I was barely able to stand when I finally stopped. I stumbled into the house, over to the refrigerator, and grabbed several bottles of water.

My attention went to the kitchen table where my mother’s favorite coffee mug sat waiting to be filled. She always kept it there. Why, I don’t know. It made more sense to keep it on the counter next to the coffee pot. We had numerous debates about it, but it never changed.

During the days before the funeral, my mom’s friends came over to clean the house. I appreciated it, but the moment one of them had removed the cup from its place, I panicked. Yasmine found the mug stashed in a cabinet and put it back in place. She was the only one who understood its significance.

Yasmine.

Damn.

How could she do this to me?

Disgusted, I trashed the empty bottle and grabbed another. I opened the door and sat on a tool bucket, staring into the night.

The street was devoid of all activity. Porch lights illuminated the doors of neighboring houses. Cars lined the street; laughter emanated from open windows.

I had never felt so alone in my life.

As a child, I spent time in my room reading or playing with the electronic gadgets my parents bought. I had a few friends, but never felt the need to be surrounded by a ton of people.

Besides Nick, my father had been my best friend. We did everything together. He used to sneak and let me ride with him on the weekends in his delivery truck when he had early routes. We’d discuss cars and cartoons, but comic strips were what bonded us the most. When he died, I inherited the collection we’d built. It was one of my cherished possessions, the one thing I had, besides his DNA, to remember him.

To this day, my biggest regret was not coming home from school that afternoon to say goodbye before going to Nick’s house for the weekend.

And now I had everything I ever wanted to say to my mother to add to that depressing list.

Why hadn’t I seen the signs? Why had I not noticed something was wrong?