The Life We Promised

Josie

My eyes spring open, shifting side to side in the darkness, searching for the noise that woke me. My gasping breath is barely audible over the pounding in my ears.

My parents' farmhouse is always full of creaks and groans. Maybe I'm just not used to it anymore.

The following silence lingers enough to settle my breaths, ease my heart. Even Matt's breath beside me is strong and steady.

“Jo?” His whisper cuts through the night, harsh and panicked. His hand pats my stomach and then my face as he props up on his elbow, head moving around the room. I shrink back into the covers at his reaction. Whatever woke me, it must've been real.

I silence my breaths and slide my fingers through Matt's, moving his hand from my face. His palms are as clammy as mine.

"Tiko." The scream echoes through the house for a second time and my gut churns, warning saliva building in my mouth. The fear ebbs, replaced by something else.

Something worse.

It clutches at my spine as I'm dragged into my memories. The voice of a boy I used to know. So deeply ingrained into my bones, my physical being, I would recognise it anywhere.

The boy I used to love. Now twisted with pain and torment. Now screaming out his brother's name.

And it's wrecking me.

I slide out of bed in search of Ben, my body moving forwards as if I've been summoned. My toes barely graze the carpet when the bed dips behind me. Matt's hand clasps my wrist, holding me in place.

"Josie, what are you doing?" His whisper echoes in the aftermath of Ben’s shouting.

I sink back onto the bed, eyes on Matt's. The morning sun peaks through a messy corner of the curtains highlighting his sloped brows and tight lips.

He's right to be scared. I should be too.

But I have to believe Ben's the same person he used to be. That I wouldn't already have mentally left the room if he wasn't.

An angry growl tunnels through the shut door. I pull out of Matt’s loose hold and I’m squinting against the sharp light in the hallway before I've registered what I'm doing.

My whole family is out here, crowding the hallway. Maddy’s voice floats from the open door of the spare room – what used to be Ben’s room. My arms wrap around my waist, though I'm not cold in my vest and shorts. I squeeze past my sister's boyfriend, knocking the loose floorboard I used to avoid when I snuck into this room in the middle of the night. At some point in the last three years, my feet have found a new route to this room, not caring who hears.

Though I don't remember when my body forgot.

“Jo?” Matt's voice cuts through my thoughts like a sharp knife in the heart. I turn, leaning towards him as my feet continue to shuffle away. My lips move without sound.

There's nothing I can say that will justify this pull. Nothing I want to hear myself that will explain this hold Ben still has over me. I thought I was done with him. Adamant that he would always stay in my past.

But my silence drags out, harsher than the truth.

Rhys turns to Matt, dropping a hand to his shoulder. “It's okay, mate. There's no danger.”

I glance at Rhys like he might know which way I should go. I reach out to Matt, searching for an anchor to pull me back, but the whimper that follows from behind me has me choking back tears.

"Let me help him." My voice is steady, indifferent, because it has to be. Though my chest feels like it's torn in two.

Matt nods. It's brief, reluctant. Arms folded, he takes a step forward. And I spin, stumbling into the dark room, not caring if Matt follows. The tug in my gut is impossible to ignore as I step away from him. But my heart is too strong to listen.

Ben's done a better job of closing his curtains than I did. There's nothing other than the hallway light casting a warm glow against the wall to guide me towards him. But unlike my room, this room hasn't changed since he moved in after his dad died. I find my way to his bed without stopping, yearning for how easy this used to feel.

"Maddy?" My eyes adjust to the darkness as I approach the bed.

Maddy’s on her knees, hands hovering like she doesn't quite know what to do with them. “He won't wake up, Jo.”

Ben's only lying on one side of the bed. The far side is empty like he's waiting for me to fill it. Like he's ready to roll over and rest his head on my chest, body curled around mine.

Like no time has passed. Like nothing has broken.

I drop beside her, knees banging against the bare floorboards. The whites of Ben’s eyes glow as his head thrashes. His pupils are searching, but they can't see me.

His furrowed eyebrows, his trembling lip – I've never seen him like this before.

So vulnerable.

So… scared.

His brother’s name is whispered from his lips, shoving my tears over the edge of the dam I wished was taller. I glance at Maddy for help, but she's gone, and I feel more alone than ever before. I lay a hand on Ben’s arm, slick with his sweat, but I don't care. It's the heat radiating off him that bothers me. It courses through me – grounding me – in a way it shouldn't anymore.

I move my hand to the duvet covering his chest instead.

“Marika.” Ben’s given name feels wrong on my lips. He’s been trapped in my head for so long - become a memory no one speaks about. "Marika, it's me." My voice, though full of tears, is soft. But it's not enough. His head continues to thrash, so I cup his cheeks between my palms, thumbs running over his moist cheeks.

“Benny.” It's barely a whisper like I'm breaking a secret only I know. A name that holds too much weight between us.

He draws in a long breath, blinking as his whole body stills. Then he sags into the bed, eyes fixed on me.

“Jose?” His voice is raw and vulnerable, a lost child searching for safety, hand curling around my wrist so tight it pinches my skin. His chest heaves with heavy, irregular breaths, sharp and raspy, like he was drowning before breaking the surface. I don't move. I daren’t move. Not when he seems to be calming down.

My body reacts to hearing my name on his voice. But I'm not ready to feel it. So I swallow, let myself smile. Tell myself I can numb it all.

"I'm here, Benny." His name escapes on a breath. I want to wrap myself around him, hold him until I know he's okay.

But I'm not that person for him anymore.

I move my thumb across his cheek. "What's going on?"

He shakes his head, turning from my hold. I lean with him, catching his scent. There’s something new there, sharp and acidic. His earthy soap isn't fresh like it always used to be. But it's his musk beneath it all, like the depths of his neck, that makes me stutter.

"Just nightmares," he mumbles, his beard scratching my palms. A beard he’s not allowed in the Marines. The way his hair curls around his ears, the weight in his chest… this isn’t a trip home. He’s back for a while. He’s out.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” My question feels like a lie. I don't want him to answer. I don't want to hear why he's screaming his brother’s name in the middle of the night. I don't want to know what the Marines have done to him.

But talking, listening – our honesty – that’s our foundation.

Even if he ruined it by leaving me. It's not something I can let go of.

Ben shakes his head and pulls further away from me. "I'm tired. I'm just going to sleep."

I clasp my hand over my mouth as another wave of tears fall on a silent sob.

"Benny?" I feel like I'm chasing him in the dark. Like I'm clinging onto a single thread of someone he used to be.

He doesn't respond, rolls away from me, out of my touch. My hands fall to his pillow, and I sink onto my calves, legs numb beneath me.

The only thing for me to do is leave. So I stand, pausing as my eyes run over the figure beneath the duvet. I open my mouth, hand hovering above his bare arm. But there's nothing more I can do, so I back away, abandoning him the way he abandoned me.

I pull Ben’s door closed with a soft click and keep hold of the handle behind my back. Like I'm afraid to let him go.

Like I know, the moment I do, he's never coming back to me.