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  JAKE UNDERSTOOD

  Penelope Ward

  First Edition, March 2015

  Copyright© 2015 by

  Penelope Ward

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced nor used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover by RBA Designs. Stock photo © Shutterstock.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  More From Penelope Ward

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  Present

  The sound of the door slamming replayed over and over in my head.

  My wife walked out on me.

  Seven hours and thirty-five minutes had passed to be exact since she’d left, but it felt like an eternity. She said she’d come back when she cleared her mind but didn’t say how long that would take. Nina made two requests before she was gone: not to call her and not to text her.

  Not wanting to make things worse, I decided to respect her wishes and spent most of the day staring at the front door from my spot on the couch, hoping that any minute she would walk in and tell me that everything was going to be okay with us.

  The truth was I couldn’t blame her for leaving. Nina had every right to be pissed at me. We loved each other fiercely and had gotten into our share of fights over the years since getting married, but never had she physically left me. Last night was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  This day was a long time coming. In fact, I’d been bracing for it from the moment I first met her. Maybe I was a fool for ever believing that she could handle the situation she’d gotten herself into when she agreed to be with me. It was only a matter of time.

  The one bit of good news was that our son, A.J., had been at my mother’s when everything went down this morning, so he didn’t have to witness it. I had arranged to have him stay there this weekend for a different reason, so it just happened to work out that he wasn’t here. I’d told Nina that my mother simply missed her grandson and wanted some bonding time. Ma had picked him up Friday afternoon. Nina had no idea that I’d actually planned a party for her tonight. So, this was suckass timing.

  She’d recently finished nursing school after taking several years off to raise our son. I was so damn proud of her and thought it would be nice to surprise her by inviting those closest to us to the apartment for an intimate celebration. Our best friends, Skylar and Mitch, would be driving up to Boston from New Jersey and staying with us for the long weekend. My sister, Allison, and her husband, Cedric, were planning to bring food from Erika’s, a dueling piano bar and restaurant on Beacon Hill they’d recently invested in. Tonight was supposed to be one of the most amazing Saturday nights of our lives. It was also why I went to visit Ivy last night—on Friday—instead of my usual Saturday.

  That was my first mistake.

  A loud knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. My heart began to pound as I leapt up from the couch.

  Nina. Baby. You came back.

  Nervous excitement transformed into overwhelming disappointment at the sight of Skylar and Mitch standing in the doorway. Apparently, I was so excited to think it might have been Nina, I’d forgotten she would have just used her key instead of knocking. I’d also apparently forgotten to tell them not to bother coming to Boston tonight. There would be no party now. The look of despair on my face must have been instantly obvious.

  “Don’t look so thrilled to see us, Jake.” Skylar stomped the snow off her feet and brushed past me. “We’ve been in the car for five hours. I have to drop the kids off at the pool stat.”

  Mitch saw my confused face and clarified, “That means she has to take a piss.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of little Skylar with a baby hanging from a carrier on her chest. Skylar handed their newborn son to Mitch and ran to the bathroom.

  I’d known her since she was fifteen, and she’d always been a spitfire. She never held anything back. In that sense, Skylar was like a female version of me, the little sister I never had. It was hard to believe she was all grown up now, but her attitude was the same as always. As much as today had sucked, I was happy not to be alone anymore.

  Mitch gave me our usual manly side hug. “How’s it going, man? You look like shit.”

  I patted him intentionally hard on the back. “Thanks, dude. I feel like shit.”

  Skylar emerged from the bathroom and plopped down on the red couch before taking Mitch Jr. from her husband. “Where’s Nina?”

  I sat down across from them on the leather recliner and rubbed my tired eyes. “She left…this morning.” I swallowed from the discomfort of saying it out loud.

  “Where did she go?”

  “She wouldn’t tell me.”

  Skylar squinted. “What?”

  “We got into a fight.”

  “Hang on.” She lifted her shirt and started to undo her bra.

  What the fuck?

  I instinctively turned my head away. “Uh…do you normally just whip your tit out in the middle of a conversation?”

  Mitch laughed. “All the time, actually.”

  Skylar continued undressing. “Jake, your wife has the biggest knockers on the face of the Earth. I think you can handle some humble side boob while I feed my son.”

  “A warning would have been nice, that’s all.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Skylar positioned Mitch Jr. over her right breast, and he seemed to latch on instantly. “Now, spill. What the hell is going on?”

  I stared at a picture of Nina hanging on the wall. I’d sketched it when she was pregnant with A.J. Our son was now eight, but it seemed like just yesterday that she was carrying him. We hadn’t had any luck getting pregnant again since. First, it was because she was afraid to suffer postpartum depression again, so she wouldn’t consider trying for another. Then, after she came around a few years ago, we simply hadn’t been able to conceive. My heart felt like it was about to combust as I stared up at the drawing.

  I let out a deep breath. “I normally spend Saturday with Ivy. You know that.”

  “Your ex-wife,” Mitch interjected.

  I nodded.

  I knew he understood the reasoning behind it, but the tone in his voice came off as a little judgmental.

  “I needed to free up today and tonight to get stuff ready for Nina’s party, so I switched my Ivy visit to yesterday. Because the party was a surprise, I made up a story about Ivy having a problem and my needing to go to the group home last night instead of today. I jinxed myself because when I actually got to Ivy’s, they told me she’d been hospitalized. I ended up going to the hospital instead.”

  “So, why would Nina get that upset? She’s used to you seeing Ivy once a week.”

  “It’s never been easy for her, Skylar. You know that. Something was different about her reaction to las
t night, though. That’s what I can’t figure out.”

  “So, what happened with Ivy?”

  “The staff at the group home found her trying to climb the roof again and had her admitted. The doctor adjusted her meds and released her this morning. It’s the usual routine.”

  “What happened when you got home last night?”

  “That was the problem. I didn’t come home until this morning.”

  Skylar’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “What?”

  “I know that looks bad, but there was a storm last night and cars on the road outside of the hospital were spinning out left and right on black ice. They actually ended up closing the road for a while. I called Nina to let her know I’d be spending the night there. Believe me, it was the last thing I wanted to do, and she didn’t seem that upset over the phone. I thought she’d understand given the situation.”

  Skylar pulled the baby off her breast and covered herself. Handing him to Mitch, she got up from the couch and proceeded to smack me lightly upside the head.

  “What the fuck, Skylar?”

  “I’m sorry. I just had to do that,” she said as she sat back down. “Are you insane, Jake? Do you really think there are any circumstances under which it’s okay to spend the night with your ex-wife?”

  “I told you. They’d closed the road. It was impossible to get home.”

  “I get it, but you can at least understand that even though you had no choice, Nina still has a right to be pissed about it.”

  I knew she was right. I had fucked up.

  Skylar continued, “Still, though, something doesn’t sound right. I could see her being upset, but why would she leave?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

  “What did she say when she left?”

  “When I walked in the door, she was waiting with her coat on ready to go. She said she needed to get away. I asked if it had to do with the fact that I slept at the hospital, and she came back with ‘what do you think?’ If I thought for one second she’d feel that way, I would have fucking ice skated home last night. I really didn’t think it would bother her like it did.”

  “Everyone has their limits.”

  I nodded to myself, feeling like shit for hurting her. It had been almost eight hours, and I missed her so much. I just wanted to hold her and tell her how much I loved her and spend the rest of the night making love to her. But even stronger than that need was the ache in my chest, a deep knowing that there was something more to this than just my staying at the hospital.

  Mitch returned from the kitchen with a beer. “Man, forgive me for saying this, but I don’t really understand how the hell you do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Go to see her like you do every week. I honestly don’t think Skylar could handle it if it were me.”

  Skylar rocked the baby to sleep. “It’s easy to say that, but people find ways of handling things when they have to. Lord knows, I’ve handled enough when it comes to us, Mitch.” She looked at me. “You didn’t ask to be in this situation.”

  That was why I loved Skylar. She was wise. She understood that I didn’t really have a choice. Sure, in life, we’re free to do what we want, but when you’re trying to do the right thing, there is only one choice. It’s not always the easiest choice. Ivy was more like a child to me at this point than an ex-wife. She had no other family and deep down, Nina understood why I couldn’t just abandon her, why Ivy needed the continuity of seeing someone who cared about her at least once a week. Nina had always put aside her own needs to allow me to continue to look out for Ivy within reason. That was one of the things I loved about my wife. But I also understood that it would never be easy for her, and I carried a lot of guilt about that. There were rules, though. Visits were only once a week on Saturdays, and if we had a family obligation, that would always come first.

  Mitch took a swig of his beer then turned to me. “Did Nina always know about Ivy?”

  I bent my head back against the chair, thinking about the days when we first met and the can of worms he just opened up with that question. “No.”

  Skylar smiled at me. She was one of the only people we were still friends with who also knew us back then. “Jake was still married to Ivy when he met Nina.”

  Mitch looked shocked. “Say what?”

  I chuckled. “You didn’t know that?”

  “No. I had no idea.” He put his feet up on the coffee table. “I’d love to hear this.”

  “I’ve heard Nina’s version, but I wouldn’t mind hearing yours,” Skylar said as she walked a sleeping Mitch Jr. over to a portable crib set up in the corner of the room.

  I settled back in my seat and crossed my arms. “How much time do you have?”

  CHAPTER 2

  Past

  The lights of the city illuminated the night sky as I looked out of Ivy’s bedroom window. This was always the most peaceful part of the weekend, when she would nap, and I would just watch her sleep before saying goodbye and boarding the late train back to New York City for the week.

  Feelings of guilt always crept in right about this time because I’d once again be leaving her alone until the following weekend. There was always too much time to think here when Ivy was either sleeping or in one of her catatonic states. But I’d take these moments anytime over one of her paranoid episodes.

  I contemplated what my life had become. It was unconventional to say the least and very hard to explain to anyone. Some days, it felt like there was no one else in the world who could possibly understand. So, very few people in New York knew about these weekends in Boston, knew about my life. You couldn’t explain this situation very easily to people in a way that they’d truly get it. The questions alone would make my head spin.

  Why do you stay with her, Jake?

  How can you fuck other women when you’re technically married?

  Did you move to New York to get away from her?

  The few times I’d opened up to the wrong people about Ivy, I’d regretted it. I didn’t need the sympathy or judgment of people who’d never walked in my shoes.

  I was practically a kid when I met my wife.

  My wife.

  I looked down at Ivy’s back rising and falling as she slept. We were legally married, but she felt more like a child to me now than a spouse. This wasn’t a marriage in the intimate sense or in any way that might make a marriage pleasurable.

  Ivy and I met six years ago on Huntington Avenue outside Northeastern University when I was a freshman. She was dancing alone in the rain, and I was instantly captivated. The more I got to know her in the weeks that followed, the more mesmerized I became. She was like no other girl I’d ever met. She played guitar and had some gigs at local venues. As cool as she came off, she didn’t have many close friends. I became her entire life. She was impulsive, reckless and had an aura about her that was contagious.

  She convinced me to run off to Vegas with her one weekend. Before I knew it, I was eighteen and married by the power vested in Elvis.

  Within six months, I knew I’d made a mistake. I truly cared about Ivy, the sex was the best of my life up until that point, and she intrigued me, but I knew that I really wasn’t in love with her the way you needed to be in order to spend the rest of your life with someone. Still, I told myself that we could make it work, that I could grow to love her.

  Not long into our marriage, things started slowly changing for the worse. Ivy was exhibiting some strange behaviors. At first, it was subtle, like she’d skip classes or not show up for work. Eventually, it catapulted into something beyond my control—something that would change our lives.

  Ivy would accuse me of everything under the sun from cheating to plotting to hurt her. She started chain-smoking heavily. She was turning into a different person before my eyes. I didn’t understand what was happening, but my better instincts told me she was going to need me even though I was tempted to leave.

  Then, on top of everything else, her mother die
d suddenly. Ivy had no other family except for me. She became more and more dependent, and I became more and more afraid to abandon her in that state. Eventually, it became clear that she needed to be evaluated. I’d put it off, afraid of what the doctors would do to her, but it had gotten to a point where she couldn’t even be left alone while I was at work. She’d take off her clothes and roam the street, accuse random strangers of rape, accuse me of rape or devising a plan to murder her. The list of delusions was endless.

  I’d heard of schizophrenia but never really understood it. When doctors gave her the formal diagnosis, I read everything I could on it, went to support groups and tried to handle it in the only ways I knew how. Eventually, I had to put her in a group home because I couldn’t work and take care of her at the same time.

  Some days were better than others. On her best day, a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell there was anything wrong. On her worst, I was scared she would take her own life. None of the meds they tried in the early days ever worked, and her illness was considered medically resistant. In the years since, they’d managed to find the right combination to help a little, but it’s still not enough. Anything that did work just kept her in a zombie-like state.

  I was the one constant in her life. So, while it may have been easy for some people to say I should’ve left her by now, again, I’d tell them to walk a day in my shoes.

  Did I love this woman? Yes. Was I in love with her? No. That wasn’t reason enough to abandon her, though. She needed my financial and moral support. Staying legally married assured that I could make decisions on her behalf. She needed to feel safe, and I was the only person who could give that to her. So, as her husband, I kept some of my vows. Others weren’t so easy.

  I had needs.

  The sexual relationship with Ivy ended not long after her diagnosis. A few years after she moved into the group home, I began to seek out other women for sex. It was always quick, non-committal, never any strings attached. I’d already resigned myself to the fact that a real relationship based on love wouldn’t be possible as long as I was still married to Ivy and caring for her. And that wasn’t going to change. No woman would be able to handle it. Ivy wouldn’t be able to handle it. So, occasional meaningless sex with women would have to be it.