{[Jane]}
"Jane - are you ok?" His hollow voice came from the other side of the door.
It's been over two days now. I haven't eaten, showered, or left my room for what it's worth.
Yes, I was sitting there, just hoping to die. I could imagine him lifelessly leaning against the door, the fingers of his hand spread out to help support himself as he tried to listen - listen to see if I was still alive, still breathing - still there.
My erratic non-stop sniffles and sobs gave me away.
"No, Matthew. I'm not. I don't think I'll... I'll [ever] be ok," I admitted, barely audible as I leaned my head back against the headboard.
"Jane, please. I need you just as much as you need me. I haven't eaten anything. I've ignored everyone's calls. They - they just don't [understand] what the fuck we're going through," he said, banging against the door as I heard him keep back a sob. "Just let me in... please," he pleaded.
"I need to be alone," I retorted, pulling the duvet to my neck. "I need time to mourn."
"I need [you], Jane," he said back.
I didn't know what to do. This - Matt and I... It was over. It would never be the same again, ever.
"I hate you!" I shouted back before bursting out into tears, "I fucking [hate] you!"
"Jane, please," he choked out, falling to the ground. "You're killing me - literally. Don't say things like that. It hurts."
I knew it did. Worst of all, I didn't mean it. I just wanted him to leave. I didn't want him to see me like this.
"Go away," I managed to say between sobs, covering my face.
He fell silent. Not another word being exchanged between us, just the occasional sniffle reminding me that he was still there - on the other side of the door, refusing to leave me alone. I pulled myself together, willing my already weak body to get up and unlock the door.
I barely unlocked the door before I crumbled to the ground in front of his feet.
"Jane!" He called, his eyes red-rimmed, his hair a complete mess - still wearing the clothes I last saw him with at the hospital.
He drew me onto his lap, pushing my head into his neck as he held me tightly against him. I clawed at his shirt, sobbing in dry heaves - occasionally gasping for air as my body shook.
He tried his best to calm me down, softly running his hand through my hair as he shushed me.
He used his strength - every last bit he had left - and hauled me off the ground and carried me over to his bathroom.
He gently placed me down on the bunk while he ran a tub of water.
"Matthew, I'm not going to-" I protested, my voice sounding foreign and hoarse.
"I'll leave you alone. I know how you feel about me. I don't know what I did, but I bet I deserved it," he answered, giving me a weak smile before closing the faucet and leaving me alone. "Call me when you're done. I'll get us something to eat."
"I don't want to-" I complained.
"Neither do I, but we have to please. Do this for me," he asked.
I nodded in reply before he closed the door behind him. I slowly undressed, leaving my clothes on the floor as I made my way over to the bath.
I tipped my toes in, and as usual, he knew exactly how I liked everything. I slipped into the water, soaking away the tragedies of the past week.
I needed this, and he knew it.
I truly hated putting him through this, but this time - I was past the point of breaking. I was smashed and splintered - crushed to oblivion. I've given up on everything and everyone - even the book I've spent over four years writing. It just didn't make sense to me anymore.
I didn't even know why I started it in the first place.
I soaked in the bath - even long after the water was as cold as my soul.
A soft knock on the door caught my attention, bringing me back to reality.
"I'm still alive," I replied with a weak chuckle.
"Mind if I come in?" He asked shyly.
"Sure," I replied. He walked up to me, trying his best not to look directly at me. "Thank you," I added in a whisper.
"For what? Fucking up your life?" he asked resentfully, dropping his head as he looked away from me, biting down on his lips to keep his tears back.
"For the bath, actually. It... it really helped," I answered, reaching out and cupping his cheek. "It's not your fault that I don't want you to touch me, Matt. Something happened, and for once - I just don't want to talk about it. It was my fault. I was stupid. I should have listened to you. I'm sorry for pushing you away," I said as he looked at me, his eyes filled with more sorrow than I'd ever seen in my life.
"I know what happened, Janey," he replied, tucking my hair behind my ear. "I just wish... I just wish you told me..."
I didn't know how to answer that, staring into his once marvelous blue eyes, now red and brimming with tears. "But-"
"I don't want to talk about that... I did something I shouldn't and I don't feel good about it at all, okay. So, can we just leave it there... for now? Dinner's ready when you're done," he said, swallowing back the lump in his throat before pulling away from me.
He knew. He felt bad about it - no doubt.
And yet -
He still wanted to be with me.