It’ll just make it harder on both of us. I’m really sorry, Jill.”
Sorry? Sorry was something you said when you bumped into a stranger in a crowded room. Sorry was something you said when you interrupted someone.
Sorry couldn’t cover leaving for war, a broken engagement, and a cancelled wedding.
Jill followed him to the foyer. “Wait. I don’t really know what just happened. You’re calling off our wedding and breaking up with me? Just like that?” Her voice wavered, revealing her emotion. None of this seemed possible. Was she dreaming? Having a nightmare? It was so sudden, so unexpected. One minute they were kissing, their bright future ahead of them, the next he was saying it was over.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“Yes. I can’t say anything to make this easier. It’s just that . . . I . . .” He paused, seeming frustrated. He ran his hands over his face and as he did so, Jill immediately noticed that his hands were shaking. Trembling.
She felt for him. Going off to war was not an easy thing. But he didn’t have to feel alone or lose her in the process.
“It’s best if we just say goodbye.” His eyes burned into hers for a moment, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Then he turned and left, leaving the door wide open.
Jill watched as Luke jumped into his truck and squealed his tires as he drove off.
Like he couldn’t get away fast enough. Like the devil himself was hot on his heels.
The vase Jill held slipped through her fingers and broke into several pieces on the tile below. She stared at the mess for several minutes as if she didn’t know what to do. The strategically placed petals intertwined with the broken glass, representing beauty mixed with ugliness. Broken dreams mixed with delicate wishes. It symbolized the moment perfectly.
Finally, she knelt down and picked up a broken piece of glass, and then another, and another. Somehow, she didn’t know how, she sliced her palm open in the process. Blood began to pool beneath her. It took awhile to realize it was coming from her. Jill collapsed to the floor, her knees to her chest and her back against the wall. She cradled her hand to her chest, letting her shirt catch the blood.
Jill had no idea how much time had passed when her mom was suddenly before her, calling her name.
“Jill? Jill? What happened?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “He said he can’t marry me. He leaves in the morning. He wants no promises between us. Then he left.”
“What happened to your hand, Jill? Your hand?”
“Oh, I cut it.”
“Why, Jill? Why did you cut your hand? No man is worth it.”
Briefly, Jill wondered why her mom would think such a thing. She supposed finding her daughter in a state of shock, staring at nothing in particular, with a blood soaked shirt, might warrant her reaction. “Not on purpose, Mom. I dropped the vase. I was cleaning up the glass.”
“Let’s get you to the ER. I think you need stitches.”
9
Luke and Jill
April 2003
Present Day
Jill awoke to the sounds of birds chirping incessantly outside her window. A happy sound, yet her heart was heavy. Absentmindedly, she ran her hand over the scar on her palm. It was a constant reminder of the night Luke had left her. At this moment, it served its purpose.
What was she doing here?
Luke had callously left her. He’d offered no promises between them, no parting words of love, nothing. Not even an I’ll miss you or a promise to write. He’d called her mother and said Jill needed her, leaving her to clean up his mess.
He’d left the very next morning. Poof. Gone. Just like that.
Jill had hardly been able to grasp what had happened.
She still couldn’t. His abrupt departure from her life left her reeling, gasping like a drowning woman. She still hadn’t caught her breath.
Now he was back, saying he had to talk to her, to explain. He was kissing her, saying he loved her.
Kidnapping her, handcuffing
Sorry? Sorry was something you said when you bumped into a stranger in a crowded room. Sorry was something you said when you interrupted someone.
Sorry couldn’t cover leaving for war, a broken engagement, and a cancelled wedding.
Jill followed him to the foyer. “Wait. I don’t really know what just happened. You’re calling off our wedding and breaking up with me? Just like that?” Her voice wavered, revealing her emotion. None of this seemed possible. Was she dreaming? Having a nightmare? It was so sudden, so unexpected. One minute they were kissing, their bright future ahead of them, the next he was saying it was over.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“Yes. I can’t say anything to make this easier. It’s just that . . . I . . .” He paused, seeming frustrated. He ran his hands over his face and as he did so, Jill immediately noticed that his hands were shaking. Trembling.
She felt for him. Going off to war was not an easy thing. But he didn’t have to feel alone or lose her in the process.
“It’s best if we just say goodbye.” His eyes burned into hers for a moment, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Then he turned and left, leaving the door wide open.
Jill watched as Luke jumped into his truck and squealed his tires as he drove off.
Like he couldn’t get away fast enough. Like the devil himself was hot on his heels.
The vase Jill held slipped through her fingers and broke into several pieces on the tile below. She stared at the mess for several minutes as if she didn’t know what to do. The strategically placed petals intertwined with the broken glass, representing beauty mixed with ugliness. Broken dreams mixed with delicate wishes. It symbolized the moment perfectly.
Finally, she knelt down and picked up a broken piece of glass, and then another, and another. Somehow, she didn’t know how, she sliced her palm open in the process. Blood began to pool beneath her. It took awhile to realize it was coming from her. Jill collapsed to the floor, her knees to her chest and her back against the wall. She cradled her hand to her chest, letting her shirt catch the blood.
Jill had no idea how much time had passed when her mom was suddenly before her, calling her name.
“Jill? Jill? What happened?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “He said he can’t marry me. He leaves in the morning. He wants no promises between us. Then he left.”
“What happened to your hand, Jill? Your hand?”
“Oh, I cut it.”
“Why, Jill? Why did you cut your hand? No man is worth it.”
Briefly, Jill wondered why her mom would think such a thing. She supposed finding her daughter in a state of shock, staring at nothing in particular, with a blood soaked shirt, might warrant her reaction. “Not on purpose, Mom. I dropped the vase. I was cleaning up the glass.”
“Let’s get you to the ER. I think you need stitches.”
9
Luke and Jill
April 2003
Present Day
Jill awoke to the sounds of birds chirping incessantly outside her window. A happy sound, yet her heart was heavy. Absentmindedly, she ran her hand over the scar on her palm. It was a constant reminder of the night Luke had left her. At this moment, it served its purpose.
What was she doing here?
Luke had callously left her. He’d offered no promises between them, no parting words of love, nothing. Not even an I’ll miss you or a promise to write. He’d called her mother and said Jill needed her, leaving her to clean up his mess.
He’d left the very next morning. Poof. Gone. Just like that.
Jill had hardly been able to grasp what had happened.
She still couldn’t. His abrupt departure from her life left her reeling, gasping like a drowning woman. She still hadn’t caught her breath.
Now he was back, saying he had to talk to her, to explain. He was kissing her, saying he loved her.
Kidnapping her, handcuffing
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