Her Reluctant Husband by Erica Marselas (summer beach reads txt) 📗

"I fell. As always," she mumbles and yanks her t-shirt down tighter. 

There’s something off, but I don’t question it right now. She needs sleep and hopefully, in the morning she’ll open up to me more about tonight’s events. I plant a kiss on her forehead. "One day we are going to work on your balancing act."

“Yeah, maybe one day I’ll walk straight.”

"For now, sleep."

"I don't know if I can."

"You can. I'm here."

"But you always leave."

"I'm not leaving right now. Close your eyes. I have you.”

My eyes shoot open to the sound of June's screams echoing through the walls. Her screams never fail to wake me every night. This is going to get old quickly. I grab my pillow and place it over my head to drown it out. My mind floats back to my dream and I wonder what the fuck that was about. I haven’t dreamt of June in ages. At least not ones where I wake up feeling sorry for her and guilty for not doing more for her sooner.

Why should I feel guilty? It wasn’t as if there was much I could have done but to take her with me and force her to get help. I did try to do just that after that night, but her mom and Liz refused to let me take her because she wasn’t of age and had to finish school. Only a few days later, June pushed away from me even more. She refused to talk to me and stopped seeing the therapist, claiming it made everything worse. It was hard to watch and I had to back off for a while, but eventually, time went on, and things got better. She told me she quit drinking and appeared lighter, but I would come to find out that was all just for appearance.

My love for her ended up shattering, destroying me in the end.

The house rattles as June’s bedroom door slams shut and the hardwood creaks as she makes her way downstairs. My mind is all over the place as I roll out of bed, slipping on a pair of basketball shorts. Might as well head downstairs to grab my nightly rude awakening bottle of water.

I find her once again on the front porch staring out into the darkness. This seems to be her go-to routine though I found her watching some sappy romance on television under a sea of blankets one night.

I don’t know what compels me, but I lean against the doorway and watch her, as she stares out into nothing. She’s unmoving with her arms wrapped around herself, her red hair, blowing in the light breeze. What the hell is she thinking about? Why did she dye her hair that color?

Why do I even care?

My eyes grow heavy and I turn to look over at the fireplace mantel, where the oversize clock sits. I watch the second hand tick by and trace over the hand that sits at three. My mind starts to wander, and I’m reminded of the final time I visited Aunt Liz.

“Alex,” Liz yells at me with her hands on her hips. Her graying hair is a mess, and I see she’s tired, with the wrinkles aging her face. “Alex will you just listen to me,” she huffs again.

“I told you I don’t want to talk about that night anymore. And I don’t want to talk about her! Ever again!” I grab my duffle bag off the couch. I came here to spend time with Liz. She wanted me home and this is what she does.

“I know, but you have to. It’s been three and a half years.”

“I don’t care how long it’s been, Liz.”

“But the accident wasn’t her fault.”

“Why are you protecting her? Kathleen is dead!”

I get it. She loved June like a daughter and found some Jesus therapy stuff about forgiveness, but I’m not like that.

That night took away the glue holding me together. There’s no mending the pieces. I’ll never forget or forgive June for the damage she has done.

“It’s not about protecting her. It’s about the truth.”

“Truth? Truth? June got drunk at a party. She did god knows what in the bathroom with—” Fuck, I can’t even say his name. It makes me so mad. “Then she decided it would be a great idea to drive home under the influence. That's the truth and I'm not going to be convinced otherwise.”

“Alex.”

“If she wasn't guilty, she wouldn't have run off. She left the hospital because she couldn't face the consequences of what she did.” I went back to her the next day, wanting to see her, demand to know why, and she was gone. I didn’t get how she could just leave and it solidified everything I knew. “Innocent people don't run.” I pick up my bag and look at her. Her head bows and I go to wrap her in a hug. I don’t want to upset her. She’s the only family I have left, but she’s asking too much. “I’m sorry, Aunt Liz. I love you, but I can’t do what you want me to do. I’ll call you later.” I kiss her cheek and leave.

“Alex?”

“Alex?”

“Alex!” June yells. “Wake up.”

My eyes snap open and I stumble back but catch my hand on the door frame. “Shit.”

“What are you doing down here?” June asks, tilting her head as she looks me over.

“I came to get a bottle of water.” I clear my throat and stand up straight.

“From the doorway?” She squints and she’s trying to hold back a smirk. “Okay.” She goes to put her hand on my shoulder, but quickly thinks better of it and drops it to her side. “You were sleeping. Standing up. Impressive.”

“Your sleep pattern