Siren In The Sky // Bradley Bradshaw

Chapter 12

I think in every relationship I've ever been in, every guy I've ever dated, there's been an invisible line. Somewhere in my mind I knew that one day they wouldn't be in my life anymore. Not that they were bad relationships, or that I liked them any less. I just knew that our lives weren't going to correspond together. That in the long run we wanted different things. I was always prepared that one day there would be an after. 

What a fool I was for never thinking that way about Bradley.

I feel like I should've. With the way it all fell apart so quickly last time. I should've prepared myself. But, so easily I lose myself in him. In thoughts of a future together. It makes sense. One day getting married, having kids, growing old in this house together. Regina and Neil down the street. Our kids being best friends. It seems so perfect. Like a dream.

If there's anything I've learned recently, is that not all dreams are good ones.

Now, there are two sides within me battling for dominance. Do I pull away, as I've always done, and prepare myself for after. It seems to hurt less when you expect it coming. Or do I just give in. If he's going to break my heart- then break it. And in the pain I will thank the universe for giving me something so beautiful, for making me feel something so fully, that I'm heartbroken to lose it. When you phrase it that way it seems so obvious to go head first diving in. That is until you feel it. The pain of losing someone and a part of yourself with them. However, even if I pull away now I think I'm in too deep to salvage myself. There is no small heartbreak in this. If he's going to do it- it'll be fully, completely. 

But what is love if it's not handing someone your heart and trusting them enough to keep it safe.

"We'll talk after dinner," I finally state. He doesn't argue. Just a quiet "ok" followed by him shuffling to the laundry room with his bag. By the time he's started a load I've taken the food off the stove and served two plates. Placing them on the table I keep my eyes cast downward. Why can't I just look at him? I know why. I'm scared. Some people always voice how they feel, others show. And Bradley, I could always tell by his eyes. And I'm scared that I'll see that he's done. Done with me, done with this. So, my eyes remain down on my plate. The only sound in the room is that of utensils scraping and our breathing taking in the heavy air that surrounds us. 

When my eyes catch that his plate is empty I take my final bite of food then slowly take a sip of my water. I'm not going to beat around the bush. I raise my head and look right at him. "Am I a burden to you?" I watch as he's taken aback, like the question caught him off guard. This confuses me because this feels like the most obvious question to ask. "What?" His mouth opens and closes. "Am. I. A. Burden." It seems he finally processes because he looks horrified. "No! Never! Why would you think that?" It is my turn to look agast. "How could I not think that? You were forced to take care of me and now you keep en eye on me like a toddler that can't be left on their own." 

He frowns, the lines in between his eyebrows creasing. "No one forced me to take care of you. I chose to. And I never meant to make you feel like a child, that wasn't my intention." I sigh exasperated, not at him but at me. "But you're right." I take a deep breath and look at the ceiling. I'm fighting the anger that threatens to consume me from the inside out. "I can't take care of myself and no matter how badly I want to, I just can't. I feel like I'm trapped in this body and this mind and I want to claw my way out of it. And I can't help it that somewhere in me thinks that it would've been better if I had just died." 

"Don't say that," Bradley pleads as he gets up from his chair and sits on the ground in front of mine. Grabbing my hands he begs, "Please don't say that." But now that the dam has burst, there is no stopping the words coming from my mouth. "I'm not a fighter pilot anymore. So what am I even good for? Nothing. I'm a mess that everyone around me has to deal with. I barely sleep, I barely eat. I spend my days doing trivial things that don't matter. The only thing I provide this relationship with is inconveniences." The anger in my voice is laced with pain. With hurt.

"Baby, please tell me you don't believe the words coming out of your mouth. Me, Regina, Mav, Hangman- all these people love you for you. Not because you were a fighter pilot, not for what you can provide, just you. You don't need to do anything to make us love you, we just do. And I know you try to downplay it- but you're heartbroken. You loved flying with your entire being. It's okay to hurt, to be upset, to be angry. Those feelings are more than justified. But, one day, maybe not right away, you will find something your passionate about again. You just have to search for it." Bradley cups my face and wipes the stray tear away with his thumb.

"I'm sorry for what I said to you. I didn't mean it, not even in the moment." He says quietly. "I'm just terrified. I felt what it was to lose you. And I feel like if I don't watch you, you'll just disappear. And this time you won't come back." I raise my eyes to meet his, but he looks away. "I don't know if that makes any sense-" I rub my hands along his arms so he can feel me, feel that I'm real and here. "I'm not going to disappear." I whisper. "But you were right about one thing." I force the words out, and when he turns to look at me in confusion I have to look down. "What?" Swallowing thickly I pull away from him only to loop my thumb in the waist band of my sweats. Pulling them down on one side, a litter of marks begin to appear. 

The air is stiff and silent as his hand slowly comes into view, tracing the cuts. I sneak a glance at his face and I instantly regret it. His eyes glossed over and his expression looks as though I took the razor to his skin and not my own.  "I'm sorry," I cry. His head snaps up and when he sees me start to crumble I'm brought down to the floor with him. I sob into his chest, my hands fisting his shirt. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I repeat over and over again. "It's okay," Bradley's voice breaks. I can hear him take a deep inhale to try and reign in his own tears, but he is unsuccessful. "It'll be okay."

And that's where we stayed- crying and clutching each other on the kitchen floor.