Page 36 of Wrapped in Hope

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Page 36 of Wrapped in Hope

She doesn’t move or turn around.

“Jane? What are you doing?” I begin walking closer. It only takes me a few steps until I can see over the island, see the crimson blood staining the white tile floor.

“What the fuck did you do?” I rush over to her, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her around.

Her face is pale, and tears are leaking from her eyes as she holds a knife in her hand. Her left wrist has a big gash that is leaking blood at an alarming rate.

Seeing the blood pouring out of the gash turns my stomach. It’s not the sight of blood that bothers me. It’s because my wife, that I’ve loved for over twenty years, has tried killing herself.

I grab a towel off the counter and quickly wrap it around her wrist. Blood loss is finally taking over and she passes out, causing the knife to clang against the tile, but I catch her just in time. With her in my arms, I grab my phone off the counter as I rush into the living room. I lie her down on the ground and apply pressure to her wound while dialing 9-1-1.

* * *

“Hasyour wife ever tried anything like this before?” the doctor asks me as I sit outside of Jane’s room.

I’m holding my head in my hands as I shake it to answer his question. Finally, I look up at him. “She’s been sinking further and further into depression since our son passed away five years ago. She’s on all kinds of medication for it, but it doesn’t seem to help. I don’t think she wants to get better.”

“We’re going to keep her here for observation tonight. But we need to discuss the possibility of getting her some help. I won’t release her just so she can go home and try again. She needs round the clock attention. She needs someone to monitor her medications. She needs to seek therapy.”

“I agree wholeheartedly. I’ve been trying to talk her into seeing someone for years now. God knows she won’t talk to me.” Just talking about this pains my heart. My once beautiful, sweet, fun-loving wife has been lost in the dark so long now that she tried to take her own life.

The doctor pats me on the back. “Go home and try to get some rest. There’s nothing you can do here tonight. But come back tomorrow so we can discuss a medical treatment for her.”

I nod as he walks away. When I feel like I can stand without falling over from grief, I walk across the hallway and look into her window. She’s lying in bed, covered up in white blankets. Her hands are resting at her sides, one wrist wrapped tightly in white gauze. Her eyelids are closed, long lashes fanning out over her pale cheeks. If I didn’t know her, she would look like she’s resting. A stranger would never guess that she’s been lost in a deep sea of depression for the past five years, leading up to her suicide attempt.

I turn my back to the window as I walk down the hallway. All I can feel is anger, regret, and sadness. Why wouldn’t she just let me help her? I can’t take her pain away, but I can at least help to ease the burden.

I climb into my Jeep and look out into the black night. The last thing I want is to go home right now. I don’t want to have to go clean up her blood. I don’t even want to touch the knife she sliced through her vein. Just thinking about it fills me with rage and despair.

I find myself at a local bar drinking more than I should. Drinking has never been my strong suit. I mean, yeah, I’ll have a few beers at a cookout or something, but drinking out of anger or sadness is always something I’ve avoided. I know it will be far too easy to drown myself in alcohol. But tonight, something is calling my name and I don’t know what.

I sit in the bar until there is nobody left but me and the bartender. I’ve had several shots, and while I have a good buzz going, I’m far from drunk. I can still see clearly, think clearly. The only thing that has changed is the liquor has washed away some of the anger I was feeling. Knowing that I should get going before I end up passing out on the bar, I call it a night.

I walk out into the cold night air. The warmth of the day has vanished, leaving nothing but blackness around me. There’s not a star in sight. The sky overhead is filled with looming clouds that block even the moon. It’s a dark, cold night, and it matches the way I’m feeling.

I walk down the street to my Jeep and my breath leaves my mouth in tiny puffs. The bitter wind seems to cling to me, chilling me to the bone. I’ve never in my life felt so cold, so alone. My son is gone and my wife won’t stop until she’s killed herself. I’m all alone in this world.

I feel a pull in my chest, but I try to ignore it as I climb behind the wheel. Whatever was calling me earlier hasn’t faded away in the slightest. And as it turns out, it wasn’t the alcohol I was seeking. I know this when I pull up in front of herbuilding.

I try not to think of anything as I make my way inside and up to her apartment. I knock twice and wait.

Just when I’ve finally made myself see what a mistake this is, she answers. Her dark hair is tied in a knot atop her head, and she’s wearing nothing but an oversized, ratty t-shirt. Her long legs are bare and my eyes take them in all the way from her pink painted toes up to her toned thighs.

“Holden? What’s wrong?” She opens the door wider.

“Jane tried killing herself tonight,” I breathe out.

She takes a sudden breath before covering her parted lips with her hand. “Come in. It’s freezing out there.” She latches on to my arm and pulls me inside her dark apartment.

I hear her lock the door behind me before she says, “let’s go talk in my room. My roommate is already asleep.”

I can’t see anything in her pitch black apartment. But I feel her soft hand as it grazes my arm and slides down to my hand. Her fingers entwine with mine as she leads me through the darkness to her room.

She opens the door for me and allows me to walk in before she closes it behind us.

There is only a small, bedside lamp on, leaving the room dim. I start pacing, looking over everything. There isn’t much in here: a full size bed with its black blankets ruffled. A bedside table with a lamp, a desk, and a lounge chair by the window. I can picture her sitting there, reading a book, looking completely at ease.

“So what happened?” she asks as she climbs back into her bed and pulls the blankets over her beautiful legs. I get a flash of red, lace panties and it makes my stomach tighten to hold off the tingles that erupt throughout my body when we’re this close.




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