Fuelled by Forever

Ch. 5

Imogen

Jude worked seventy hours this week. Eighty last week. It's as if he has something to prove, but it's only to himself because everyone else thinks it's crazy.

I only see him at work because I'm asleep by the time he's back home, and he's already up and left when I wake up. I try my best to understand, not to push for him to wake the heck up to his avoidance of the sadness in his mind, but it's desperately lonely.

I'm losing him to his mind.

It's slow, making me feel like I'm tumbling down a hill in slow motion, dragging the debris with me as the weight on my shoulders grows.

It's Sunday afternoon, and he's still not home.

This morning, I went out of my way to make a Sunday roast. I cooked beef because it's his favourite, even though I have no clue how to get it right. It came out perfect, along with roast potatoes, parsnips, leeks and cheese, greens, and homemade Yorkshire puddings.

By three o'clock, I know Jude won't make it for the meal, so I get stuck in with Mum. But it's wasted because my sour mood stunts my appetite.

Sunday is the day of rest.

I like to think of it as time with family, and I would love to spend it with Jude. We could play a game with Mum or watch a spooky film because Halloween is everywhere right now.

It's not a lot to ask, really.

I portion some food up for Mum's dinner for the next few days, trying to keep quiet while she naps upstairs. I clean the kitchen and dust around the sitting room, flopping on the sofa to check my sugar levels, needing to do a correction when they're high.

Releasing a long sigh, I return to the fridge to get my insulin, trailing back to the sofa to inject and rest my eyes. I fall asleep for an hour, waking disoriented until I see Mum sipping a hot drink across from me.

"I'm watching Hocus Pocus," Mum tells me when I sit up.

I move the pillows close to the television and lie down again. "I love this film. Is it the new or old one?"

"This is the new one. Do you want a drink?" she asks, getting up to make me a hot chocolate.

We watch the movie, and it's cosy and growing dark outside. Jude should be here, especially with the rain thrashing against the windows.

"Call him, baby," Mum says, smiling gently at me.

I laugh. "Am I that obvious?"

Mum puts her empty cup on the coffee table. "I can tell when you're stewing. It has to be about Jude."

"I just think he's worked enough this week. I miss him," I say and her face drops.

She motions to me. "Call him if it'll make you feel better. I agree, he's worked enough."

With Mum watching me, I call Jude's mobile, but it rings to the answerphone. Instead of leaving a voice message, I call Protech's landline, sadly knowing he's more likely to answer a call from a client sooner than me.

"This is Protech Auto, and sadly, we can't take your call right now..."

I get Jude's voice, but not the one I want to hear, as his polite and professional automated message greets me. That's strange. I leave a message for him here, asking what he's up to and if he wants me to bring some food there. My whispers of my love ending it.

Mum smiles at me. "He'll call you right back."

"I'm going to see him," I say, jumping up to collect one of the food containers with the Sunday Roast and a tin of Coke for Jude. I could switch up my tactics and be close to him while he works so he's not totally alone.