It Started with Skinny Jeans

(Ch 8) It Started with Heartbreak

It Started with Heartbreak

I felt my mouth go dry; my legs frozen in place as with each thundering heart beat I tried to comprehend what my eyes took in. How could this be happening? When I’d pictured how this evening would go I had a hundred scenarios playing in my mind, preparing me for whatever would come, but this… this was something I hadn’t planned for. And how could I have. Never, not once would I have guessed that the scene before me could happen – would ever happen.

I tried to swallow the anxiety I felt welling up inside, but my mouth felt like the Sahara desert. I knew I should move, make my presence known, but still my legs would not move. It was as if my feet had been affixed to the floor and no matter how much I tugged I could not break free.

I just stared at the other two figures in the room, not sure if I should say something or not. But what would I say? How could I possible find the right words, when I didn’t understand, when my mind wouldn’t allow me to?

And that’s when my eyes found his face and I knew I had to say something, I knew I had to get some answers no matter what was said.

As if an energy source, one I never knew I had, broke my from my immovable trance, I felt my legs suddenly come to life. Concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, my eyes never left his face. I felt like a moth to a flame as he drew me in, pulling me closer.

“Scott,” it came out in a croaky whisper, filled with emotion.

Scott’s eyes met mine. I saw surprise in them and recognition. He came no closer to me; his eyes just stared at me blankly. I could feel the other occupant’s eyes on me now too and knew they must render surprise at my presence. But I didn’t care about that. I needed to hear this from Scott, needed the answers from him.

“What’s going on here?”

He never said a word. His eyes continued to stare at me. I could see the aggrieved look in his eyes and all I wanted was to throw my arms around him and offer him what comfort I could, but I knew he would never allow me that simple pleasure.

Eventually the pain became too much and I had to avert my eyes. It felt as if his hurt, his sorrow had poured right into my soul. I could feel the unshed tears welling in my eyes and blinked trying to ward them off. I couldn’t let them fall, not matter how I ached for his part, I couldn’t let him see those tears, not when he clearly needed me to be strong.

My eyes scanned the room once more as the scene I’d walked into overtook me again.

His little work area was completely trashed. Paints thrown all over the floor, his chair splintered into pieces and his sculpture – the one he’d worked so hard on, the one he’d looked so proud of just last night – lay covering the floor in chunks. Looking down at my feet I saw what was a face staring up at me. It was a beautiful face, face that looked much like Scott’s.

I still didn’t know what to make of all of this, as a tear escaped my barrier for what I knew had been a masterpiece. I swiped it away with one swift move. I needed to be strong, needed the answers. I was about to ask Scott again what had happened when her shattered voice greeted my ears.

“What is she doing here, Scott?”

Still no reply. My attention turned to Jackie. Her eyes were swollen and red from her tears, her nose red and blotchy.

Why was Jackie crying? Had there been an accident with the sculpture? It was the only explanation I had for the sight before me. Scott certainly couldn’t have destroyed it. He was so proud of what he’d done. There was just no way of that happening.