Teach Me How To Love Again

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

"You didn't have to come," Jill said meekly. The truth was, she was grateful for his presence.

Joe didn't owe her protection, but she knew that Bill wouldn't be as combative if there was a witness. He wasn't violent, but he could be vitriolic and after what she'd endured, she wanted to avoid as much interaction as she could.

Joe placed his hand on top of hers, "Of course I did. Do you want me to come in with you? I can help you carry your things."

She shook her head, "No, I need to do this alone." 

Though she'd shared so much of herself with Joe over the past several months, this was a part of her life she'd concealed from him and she wasn't ready to expose all of her wounds.

"Bill isn't home yet anyway and I don't want to be here any longer than I have to be so I'll be quick," she added.

"Take your time," he responded, pulling out a book as she made her way to the front door.

Jill put her key into the lock and turned it to the left.

The musky smell of her husband's cologne hit her as soon as she stepped over the threshold, making his presence in her former home evident. A pang of sadness hit her in the stomach.

Her entire life was in this house. She looked around, digesting the scene before her. The records slanted on the shelf below the record player, the worn down wood on the coffee table where she'd set her mug every morning. The little, mundane details that made this house their home.

She swallowed the lump in her throat.

It was eerily quiet. She was used to hearing a blaring television calling out scores or Bill fighting with someone over the telephone but instead there was silence. She almost laughed at herself. The silence she would have craved months ago now left her feeling unsettled.

She pushed past a suspended tapestry curtain to their bedroom to collect the remaining items from her drawers.

As she knelt down to the last drawer, she sat back on her knees. This was it - everything she worked so hard for - gone.

The marriage she'd longed for never existed in this home and coming to terms with that was soul crushing. When she held his hand at the altar, they'd promised to love each other deeply and forever. She'd meant it with every part of her being, but she wasn't sure that he ever did.

She remembered her grandmother chastising her for marrying Bill. She'd made the entire wedding planning process miserable for them both. Ma Godfrey had gone out of her way to make a fuss over every minute detail, even refusing to wear the dress Jill had picked out for her on the day of the wedding.

Jill never admitted to herself that part of the push to accept Bill's proposal was to spite her grandmother, who had been so wrong about her parents' relationship. She despised her grandmother's snide comments and insisted on proving to her that she knew what was best for herself.

But now? She sat on the floor of her bedroom, sorting through her dresser and deciding what was really worth taking. She tried to remain measured and level-headed about this but the emotional toll was beginning to bubble to the surface.

Jill pulled out the final piece of clothing, a blue jumpsuit she'd bought that still had the tag on it, neatly folding it into her suitcase. She zipped up her suitcase and placed her hands on her hips, observing her work.

That was everything.

She walked over to their bed, sat down, and wept into her hands. She had no idea where she was going from here, but she hoped that there was some higher power with a plan for her.