My heartbeat stalled in my chest as those pictures flipped through the backs of my eyes. But as violent as they were, I knew he hadn’t had a choice. Hesitantly, he placed his hand over mine. A gold flash slapped me across the face and he withdrew, stepping back and throwing his hands in the air. Whatever he’d been holding back was rumbling and growing now.
“Jesus, Rosa!” His voice angled towards the sky, and he clasped his hands behind his head. “I don’t understand how you’re okay.”
I’m not… and you know I’m not.
He turned away from me, stop turning away from me, and I could see his ribs expanding, his back muscles tensed like they could barely hold him in any longer.
“Joseph, what’s wrong? You can tell me,” I pleaded, my hands limp at my sides, my body not daring to come closer. Electrified words piled up between us, jutting out of the mud like thrown-down axes.
He just shook his head over and over like the sad elephant at the zoo.
What did you do?
He faced me, his eyes throwing warnings, and I felt the need to cover my ears, to run before his words caught me. “I wish it were just about that night. God, Rosa, if only it was just that. If only I had known before, maybe I wouldn’t have... wouldn’t have…”
The ground softened under my feet, turning to quicksand that tried to swallow me. Don’t ask him. I picked my way over the obstacles between us. He stood like a statue, a Joseph statue carved from bleeding rock. I put my hand to his jaw, forcing him to look at me. “Wouldn’t have what?”
His head fell. He didn’t want me to ask either.
There were tears in his eyes, running hard like bullets, one, two, three down his cheeks. “Rosa, I was almost unfaithful to you,” he whispered.
I laughed awkwardly, my lips curling and catching on my teeth. This was a joke, right? I swept my eyes around the forest like I was checking to see if anyone was listening. The trees seemed to lurch backwards, splaying like I was a bomb that had already gone off. But I didn’t really understand him.
I attempted to calm myself, planting my feet firmly, and the ground steadied for a small second as I replayed the word almost, almost, almost. But it was such a brief reprieve. That second word swung around on chains strung from the clouds and blared in front of my eyes, bigger than the sky. I wished I could un-hear it, shove a cloth down its throat and throw it away, but it was too late. The bottom of the world slid away like a pullout tray, leaving me suspended in the air, my feet hanging limp below. My scrabbling fingers dug deep into the word unfaithful.
My hand dropped from his face. He was stone, the color and the feel. I shook my head from side to side, as if I could dislodge this thing rattling around in my head. It had sharp angles, and it was wedged into the soft corners that were once his. Now, they bled raw. Almost unfaithful. I didn’t know what that meant. The sharp thing bashed at my thoughts. It was a box I didn’t want to open, even as I pried at it with desperate, chipped fingers, because I didn’t want to know what those words meant.
I stepped back and hit a tree with a thud. Little pieces of bark rained down my back and fell into my too-big shoes. My chest felt hollow; my heart and lungs had dissolved. I opened and shut my mouth, mechanically doing the things to keep me alive. Breathe in, breathe out. I didn’t know how to react because I never expected him to say that. I cycled through every emotion and came back to nothing. I felt nothing. Bloodless, aimless.
He stood in front of me, bewildered and waiting. The words pinned to his shirt like a note for the teacher.
I thought nothing would come out of my mouth until everything poured from my lips like an avalanche. Suddenly, the questions were in my hands and I hurled them at him: When? Why? Who? With who?
He took each word like a spear to the chest, stumbling backwards until he was on the ground and I was standing over him, breathing hard. My legs trembled, and I swayed. I was going to be sick. Covering my stomach with my hand, I felt my insides twist like snake.
He knelt over, his hands pressed into the dirt, looking like he was going to be sick too.
He whispered her name into the tiny palm fronds that jabbed out of the mud, and when the name floated up to my ears, I couldn’t stand it.
When he told me he kissed her, that he almost… I actually screamed. The details were a knife that kept on stabbing, through, through, through to the other side of me.
“Stop,” I gasped, the bile burning a path up my throat. “Please. I can’t hear anymore.” His mouth clapped shut. His face was a broken bruise I shouldn’t have to heal.
The smell of lemons, detergent, and chemicals brought me back. I was wearing her clothes. I shrugged off my own jacket, and my furious hands started unbuttoning her shirt because her clothes were burning my skin. It was a stupid thing to do. It was freezing and only getting colder, but I felt stupid wearing her too-long pants and her shirt that left so much air between where my chest ended and what it allowed for. I bit my lip and stared at the darkening sky. There should have been black, angry clouds pulsing with lightning, but it was clear. Empty.
My eyes snapped to Joseph as he rushed towards me.
“I’m so sorry, Rosa,” he said, his beautiful, lying eyes tortured. He took both sides of her shirt and held them together, over my chest, in his fist. I tried to struggle out, but his grip was too strong. “You can’t. You’ll freeze to death,” he whispered sadly.
I shoved him, screaming, “I can’t wear her fucking clothes!” He staggered back in surprise. I’d never spoken to him, or to anyone, like that. I stood there, feral and angry, my shirt open, revealing my scars and frozen skin.
I started unbuckling my pants, but stopped. I didn’t know what I was doing anymore.
He removed his jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt, calmer than he had a right to be. “Take mine,” he offered.
Scowling, I snapped, “Then you’ll freeze to death.” My teeth were already chattering.
He smiled sadly at my obstinacy. I couldn’t look at his mouth so I turned my eyes to his chest and the deep scars running down his skin.
“I guess we’re at an impasse then,” he said.
“What are those?” I asked, pointing at his scars. I needed to break the conversation in half, just for a moment.
“Polar bear attack,” he said, gazing down at the dark purple parts of his skin. He carefully removed his shirt and handed it to me. Snatching it, I ripped her shirt from my body, the sleeve snagging at my wrist. I tugged at it until the cuff tore and released me, letting it fall to the dirt. Stepping on it, I screwed my foot into the ground, just to make sure it soaked up plenty of mud. I put his shirt on quickly, my movements jerky from the cold, and then put my own jacket over the top. His clothes enveloped me in the warmth and smells I’d craved and wanted. It reminded me that I loved him. I love him.
He pulled his jacket over his bare skin, his scars, and zipped it up. “What do we do now?” he said in a croak of sadness, reaching for my hand.
I withdrew. I was angry. Torture. That was all I could see in his eyes, across his mouth, in his tense jaw. He was torturing himself.
Good.
He walked away from me, pulling his hands through his hair. Sadness punctuated every movement. After everything we’d been through…
No. Not good.
I did the same as him, pulling my hands through my messy hair, trying to tease out my anger. Soon, night would pull down like a blind. The grey shadows were fast turning black.