Penalty Kill

Harper

Every second that ticks by on the massive, ancient wall clock shoots through my skull with an endless echo. I should've clocked out by now. Instead, I've been struggling to shelve the same dozen books for an embarrassingly long time. My brain's been stuck on a short-circuiting loop, and I can't even remember the last patron I saw filter past.

I give the fiction novel in my hands a tight squeeze, my frustration, exhaustion and sadness oozing out through my shaking arms. Slamming my eyes shut, I try for the umpteenth time today to push down every unrelenting thought about what happened a week ago on a picturesque farm in upstate New York—a place that could've easily been the setting for any holiday romcom.

Walking past Jake was one of the hardest things I've had to do. There was no part of me that wanted to stay. I'd been fighting back the immense weight of my grief even before our trip, and taking in the unbelievably light, warm and authentic interactions of his family had placed even more heaviness on my chest. Finding out that he'd actively chosen to not tell me about a woman who'd nearly derailed his entire life broke what little resolve I'd mustered wholly.

It was too much. Too much to be having my first Christmas without my mom. Too much to have the one person who I'd come to trust and rely on without question completely shatter what we'd worked so hard to build together. I couldn't bring myself to continue to put on a brave face for his wonderful, happy family. As selfish and shitty as it was, I left the very second I knew that I wasn't sure about anything anymore.

I asked Alice to take me to the nearest train station so I could get back to the city. She tried to fight me on it at first, tried to get me to stay, tried to at least let her drive me back to my apartment. All it took was me saying no to each suggestion once, and she resigned herself to getting me to the train.

Gathering my things only took a matter of minutes, and before I knew it, we were in the car. I faintly remember his parents standing slack jawed in the kitchen, trying to figure out what was going on as I sobbed my way through their beautiful home. I felt like a giant piece of shit the entire time. I didn't say a word to them. I couldn't.

I couldn't muster the energy to explain that the noise in my head had reached deafening levels that were making me want to scream. I owed them thank yous, I owed them an explanation. I owed them my deepest apologies for what their family went through all those years ago. There was so much to say, and so much making it impossible for me to articulate anything meaningful to either of them.

So I left, and after one stop that I insisted Alice make, I was on a train headed back to the city. Instead of making Alice suffer through a near three hour car ride with my incessant blubbering and ramblings, I had a five hour long train ride to be all alone with my multifaceted misery.

After I'd declined the seventh call from Jake, I decided it was easier to turn my phone off entirely. I didn't know what to say to him. I didn't know what to tell him. I didn't know what I was feeling, what I was thinking. All I knew is that I needed the space to let everything inside of me happen at will. I needed to let myself implode without having anyone close.

And that meant everybody.

I'd rejected calls from Felicia all week after crying on the phone once with her for hours, and made it a point to respond to her concerned texts with simple phrases. I'm okay. I'm working a lot. I just need time.

I figured Jake was back in the city. The Storm had two games in quick succession after Christmas, with a few days off around New Years. He'd given up on calling pretty quickly, and I had to resort to blocking texts from him since they were heartbreakingly innocent.

I hope you're okay

I'm worried about you