Author's Note: So if you have been following my other 70s story, you might know that I recently went through a pretty tough break up and after a hiatus and some time, I've gotten around to being okay again. Writing has been pretty therapeutic though sometimes hard to do. I was having a tough day today and just sat down to write and what came out was as close to what happened to me as I could manage to write. I'm apprehensive about publishing it, but what the heck. Here it is. The title is inspired by the song "Muddy Waters" by LP. Enjoy.
Jackie sits on the small cot in the cramped, dark room hidden in the corner of the basement. She inhales deeply but there doesn't seem to be enough air in the room to fill her lungs or push away the tightness in her chest. She takes shorter, more shallow breaths to make up for the air deficiency. She brings her sleeves to her face and wipes away the puddles escaping from her mismatched eyes and as brings it back down to stare at the dampness, she sees dark spots from her running mascara and eyeliner. She scoffs at how pathetic she must look, trying to keep it together but breaking apart despite the best effort. She can't even bring herself to look up so she sits still, focusing on the ruined sleeve of her cream sweater. Thoughts of happier moments swirl quickly through her mind in a blur and destroys any strength she can muster in between the tears.
In the silence, she can hear the steady breathing coming from across the room. Between her sniffles and shallow breaths, she counts each rhythmic breath. One. Two. Three...
She doesn't look up or acknowledge his presence other than the breaths he takes. Four. Five.. She can make out the ticking noises from his watch as the seconds pass and with each tick the pressure in her chest intensifies and her breaths get more shallow. Then the tears flow more freely. Then the sobbing starts. She brings her hands to cover her face, trying to keep some dignity in this moment.
He doesn't move from his spot.
She brings her hands down, takes a deep breath and puffs out her cheeks as she exhales. Once again, she wipes her eyes with her sleeves and then presses the palm of her hands against her swollen eyes. The pressure eases the irritation she feels from all the crying. One. Two. Three... She starts counting his breaths again and tries to bring her own to match his.
More time passes and she manages to control her breathing and stop the tears from filling her eyes. She brings her vision down to the floor and glances at her lower surroundings. A sock, a pair of boots, his feet, scattered magazines. She takes another deep breath and finds enough energy to stand up from her spot on the cot. As she turns to walk outside into the basement, she can see his head shift to look directly at her. She pulls open the door to his room and walks into the empty basement. No time passes before she hears the shuffle of his feet following her. She quickens her steps to reach the coat rack by the door before he can get to her.
"Can you stop being like this? Just let me explain" he calls out as she lifts her coat from the rack. She doesn't turn around but rather puts an arm through one of the sleeves.
"Jackie, damn it stop. Doesn't what we have matter enough for you to hear what I have to say?" he says as his feet shuffle closer to her.
"Fuck off" she says as she looks over her shoulder and offers him a menacing look.
"Stop being like this. Just let me talk."
Sliding her other arm into the other sleeve of her coat, Jackie turns to face him. She glares at him, still not saying a word. She clenches her jaw and raises an eyebrow. Her head tilts slightly upwards and she makes sure she's looking directly into his eyes which, to her fortune, are not shielded. Her face burns red hot with anger and disgust. Disgust at the man who stands before her and disgust at her naivete. How could she have been foolish enough to think that this person could possibly be faithful? That this person could be capable of reciprocating her love and giving her what she needs? She should have known. From the very beginning, when she had that instinctual feeling that this was a mistake, she should have known it would be and that nothing good could come from it. She should have expected that the behavior that he has been so infamous for would eventually rear its ugly head only to leave her in a state of pure devastation. Her mind did everything possible to warn her, but her heart deceived her. It urged her to give him the benefit of the doubt, to go against everything she felt and give him a chance. If she invested enough in him and their relationship, surely it would only be returned. Even after the constant gut wrenching doubts that arose every once in a while, she believed in him more than she did her own instincts and she pushed the doubts away in exchange for his reassuring hugs, warm hugs and tender kisses.
"No" she says through nearly gritted teeth. She watches as his chest rises high and he holds that breath before exhaling again.
"Let's figure this out. We've been together long enough where we should be able to figure this out. Just hear me out."
Her eyes narrow and she shakes her head from side to side. To go from one cheater to another, what the hell is she doing wrong?
She shakes her head harder this time. No. This isn't about what she's done. She hasn't done anything. It's about him.
"We're no longer together, so I don't have to hear anything you have to say" she tells him.
This time, he narrows his eyes and folds his arms across his chest. She can make out the outline of his chest as it tightens a bit and spots the veins in his arms protrude as he flexes them together. "You don't want to talk? Fine. That's fine, but let me clear. What I did, I did while we were not sure of where we stood with each other. You can walk out if you want, but I've been good to you. I've been the best man you've been with so you choose to do whatever you want, just be aware of that" he tells her.
A smirk forms across Jackie's lips and suddenly she starts to laugh, almost maniacally. She thrusts her head back a bit as the laughter increases and suddenly the anger she was feeling subsides and in its place is a sense of amusement. How righteous cheaters become when they are backed up against a wall. How ingenious of them to try and make the narrative about the other person instead.
The laugh stops abruptly and she takes several steps towards him. Now face to face with just two inches separating their bodies, she once again makes eye contact and smirks. "The best man? You're pathetic. You're nothing more than a coward. I overestimated you Steven, I really thought you were smarter than this. Turns out you're just another disappointment."
His eyes widen a bit at the coldness in her voice, the harshness of her words. He stares back into her eyes and there is a distance in them he's never seen before, didn't think even existed. There is anger, and hurt, and aloofness. Aloofness to a degree he's never achieved himself. In that moment, he knows he can't combat it. There is no coming back from it. Gaining her trust back would be impossible and as much as he would like to try, she would never give him that chance. She's been hurt too many times by too many people and while he had promised never to be on that list, he's probably at the very top now. He sighs and gives a small nod, claiming a silent defeat. She lifts her head high once more and turns away from him. He sees as her long coat sways behind her on the way out and the bounce of her curls and the way she doesn't turn around, not once. He sees the door close behind her and their relationship coming to an end.
He doesn't see her outside of the door, leaning against the wall, breaking down.