Take a Breath (Take #1) - Jaimie Roberts Page 0,11
you have a good time?”
I turn and look at Jake, suddenly feeling a heavy weight on my shoulders from the whole day. He looks at me—his expression unreadable—and then back up to Matthew. “It was … eventful. Where’s Stella?”
Matthew shrugs his shoulders. “I haven’t seen her since I came in.”
“When was that?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant. I have a sudden and familiar bad feeling in my gut.
“Well, I’ve been home since around four-thirty, and there was no one here then.”
Instantly, I find myself walking upstairs and past Matthew to my mum’s room. The first thing I do once I get inside is fling her wardrobe door open. My shoulders sag when I’m immediately met with an empty space staring back at me. I sigh, suddenly enraged by the knowledge she has fled … again. How could she do this to Jake? To Matthew? To me?
In an outburst of rage and hurt, I pick up one of her favorite figurines, which is still sitting on her bedside table, and I throw it against the wall. It crashes and falls to the ground in tiny pieces as I slump to the floor. I hear Jake and Matthew shouting for me as they both rush into the room, but I can’t seem to move.
What a shitty day!
They both stand just inside the doorway, staring at me in disbelief. They look at me and then at the debris on the floor. Jake is about to say something when I point to her wardrobe. He has to know. I can’t hide this from him.
He walks over, peeks inside, and lets out a deep breath. I get up from the heap I’m in, suddenly feeling exhausted.
I look at Jake with tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I then quickly rush out, seeking the relative security of my own room. My day officially can’t get any worse than this. I bet he wishes he had never met the now infamous Sinclairs.
Walking over to my bed, I flop on the mattress and take some of my frustrations out on my pillow by punching it several times before I realize it isn’t helping. She didn’t even have the decency to write a note this time. She just vanished—again. I don’t even know why she does it.
As I calm my pounding heart, my once scrambled thoughts start to clear. It’s in that moment that a sudden realization hits me.
I’m free.
For the first time in my life, I’m finally free from the noose around my neck that is my mother. It’s amazing how fast my emotions have turned around. I suddenly feel this tremendous sense of relief, but at the same time, I cringe. Guilt surfaces because I know Jake must be upset. Even so, I can’t help feeling euphoric.
She’s out of my life.
I can finally move on without her.
3
The sound of the alarm waking me at six-thirty is an unwelcome one. Clutching my pounding head as I force myself up, I quickly realize I’m still dressed from the night before.
Wow, I must have been dead to the world.
Moaning, I get up, walk over to my bathroom, and quickly pour some water into a glass. I then take two Advil as I get ready to shower.
Once refreshed, I look in my wardrobe for inspiration. It’s going to be another hot day. It’s already 70, and the day hasn’t even started yet.
I settle on a nice, grey pencil skirt, a white blouse, and some black high heels. As soon as I’m dressed, I already feel miles better.
With my hair blow-dried, my makeup on, and my top button undone, I make my way downstairs. A little bit of cleavage is the theme for the day.
As I get to the bottom of the stairs, I suddenly remember that I have to clear the mess I made last night. With a heavy sigh, I retrieve the broom and make my way back upstairs. Once I open the door to what used to be her room, though, I find there’s nothing there.
“I cleaned it up last night.”
Jumping at the sound of his voice, I turn around to find Jake in all his glory. His hair’s swept back this morning, making his green eyes as piercing as ever. He’s wearing a crisp white shirt, grey trousers, and is adjusting the cufflinks at the end of his arm.
“Do you want me to help you with those?” I offer.
He steps back a little like the thought of it repulses him. “No, it’s okay. I’ve got it, thanks.”