Scars (Sequel to Cuts) - Kellic // boyxboy

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Kellin

I envy the raindrops on the car window as they slide down the glass and fade into nothingness. I would give anything to not exist right now, or to exist in a simpler time.

I think back to my perfect wedding day. I want to go back there. I want to hold my husband, I want to kiss him again. All those months ago, never did I think that Vic and I would end up like this.

But I don't regret leaving, I know it's what I need right now. Being around Vic, in our broken home, is triggering to me and I'm determined to not let last night's lapse turn into a relapse. I just need to disappear for a while so I can sort myself out, and hopefully, Vic can sort himself out too.

I'm confident we'll get back to where we were, in time. I wouldn't have left if I didn't think that.

We finally pull up in Jenna's driveway and she shuts off the car.

"You okay, hun?" she asks me ever-so softly.

I look to her, desperately blinking away my tears.

"I feel bad for leaving him." I sniff.

"Don't." she says firmly. "This was so easily avoidable, Kells. All he had to do was talk to you, and he refused to. So don't feel bad. This is what's best for the both of you right now. And it's only temporary. I'm sure he'll come to his senses in a few days."

"Okay," I breathe.

"I'll head around there later just to make sure he's alright, yeah?" she suggests.

I nod, feeling grateful for the opportunity to have that peace of mind.

"Come on, lets get inside before the rain picks up." she suggests.

I follow her out of the car and into her home. It actually feels like a home which is a feeling I haven't experienced in a while. But I feel out of place here because it's not my home. I start to dread the thought that I'll never get that feeling back.

Jenna leads me into the living room where her wife is seated in front of the TV.

"I came bearing gifts." Jenna grins, wrapping an arm around me.

"Oh how thoughtful of you," Tay plays along. "It's good to see you, Kell."

She's smiling at me but her eyes hold sympathy. Great, I'm going to be throwing a pity party in no time.

"You too," I reply flatly.

"Why don't you go settle in the guest room and have a nice warm shower, okay?" Jenna suggests.

I just nod then carry my bag upstairs. It feels heavier than it actually is as I throw it down on the bed. I don't want to unpack or anything, I don't want to admit to myself that I might be here for a while, so I just head down the hall to the bathroom. I find a towel then I run myself a warm shower as Jenna recommended. 

I almost buckle and fall as I step under the stream, as the weight of the water pushes on the weight of my fractured marriage and my severed sobriety. But I hold myself up because I have to.

I spend my shower thinking about my parents, how I swore to never be like them and I still somehow ended up an alcoholic with a failed marriage. It's like no matter how hard I try to make things work out, nothing ever does.

I push the pessimistic thoughts out of my mind and reassure myself that this is all only temporary. I just had a small slip up and Vic and I are going to be fine.

I leave the shower, feeling no better than before I got in. I wrap a towel around my waist and head back down to the guest room. I unzip my bag and begin searching for comfortable clothes. I put on a pair of sweatpants then start looking for a top but instead I stumble across one of Vic's hoodies. I immediately recognise it from last night—the sleeves are even still damp. He must have gotten changed out of it and I must have accidently picked it up off the floor and packed it.