Seeing Julia Read Online Free Page B

away for long. He puts his arm around me and I lean into him and just sob. He strokes my hair, over and over, and I take solace in this simple gesture.
    “I used your cell phone to call Kimberley,” he says after a time. “She’s on her way.
    “Okay.” I look over his shoulder and vaguely note he’s hung up my ruined silk dress over the shower door and draped my bra and panties over the desk chair. His unexpected optimism and act of kindness almost make me smile.
    “Julia,” he drawls. “I’m sorry. I…I wasn’t thinking clearly before. I’m so sorry. I loved Evan like a brother. I … there’s no excuse for … I’m so sorry.”
    “I wasn’t thinking clearly either.” I close my eyes, but experience this spinning sensation so I open them again. “I just wanted him back.” I swallow. “Holding you … felt like him … I just want him back.”
    “I know.”
    “Too much sadness. Too much grief. Just like Bobby,” I whisper.
    The blackness begins to surface again. I can’t follow what he’s saying. I lean against his chest confused by the rhythm of his heart beat and strain to hear what he’s asking me.
    “Who’s Bobby?” Jake asks in this guarded voice.
    “My fiancé, Bobby Turner. Killed in Afghanistan. Almost four years ago.”
    “Bobby was killed? Oh God.” Remorse and this profound sorrow emanate from him now. “Who are you? Tell me.”
    “I’m Julia Hamilton.” Blackness drifts closer. “Mrs. Evan Hamilton.”
    “Before that,” Jake says. “Who were you, before Bobby? Do I know you?”
    “I don’t talk about before .”
    I can feel myself slipping away. He seems distant now. I can’t hear him anymore. I attempt to smile, but the narcotic takes all control.
    ≈ ≈

    “Hold on, Julia. Stay with us,” a voice interrupts the dark tranquility invading me. I try to open my eyes, but I’m too tired. I’m lifted up. My arms sting from the urgent movements. I cannot feel my hands and my feet feel unbelievably heavy. I’m beyond cold.
    “Julia, can you hear me? Oh, God, Julia, don’t do this to me.” I feel the fall and rise of the elevator. I hear slamming doors and feel the rush of speed. “It’s going to be okay.”
    I don’t believe you . I try to say out loud, but no words come out. I don’t believe you. It’s not going to be okay, ever again. I try to open my eyes, but there are too many lights, too bright, too much.
    All these voices calling my name, over and over. “Julia! Wake up! Stay with us!” I wish they would stop saying my name. I don’t want to wake up. I don’t want to stay here, wherever here is. Something is shoved down my throat and I feel myself gagging from this faraway place. “Mrs. Hamilton, can you hear me?” A voice whispers voice near my face.
    I am Mrs. Hamilton. I was Mrs. Hamilton. Now, Evan is dead. I am no one, now. I am no more. The pain is too much, the loss too great. There is no more before and the after is too devastating. There isn’t enough of me left to go on. Grief has stolen too much of me, now.
    ≈*≈*≈

     

Chapter 3- Confessions
    I ’m not dead. I only know this because I see the redness behind my eyelids as if I’m looking directly into the sun and can only watch the hidden world of blood veins and cell movement, experiencing a complete understanding of mitochondria. Extreme warmth invades all of me and there’s this fiery heat at my hands and feet. The tingling pain affects all of my outer limbs, but I cannot move. My throat burns and I long to speak, but heaviness weighs me down as if I’m being held under water, even moving my lips proves to be too much work.
    Kimberley’s voice assails me as she argues with someone and uses her best don’t-fuck-with-me tone. “She’s my sister . I have to be here. She’ll want to see me when she wakes up.”
    “Visiting hours begin later this morning, not the middle of the night. We need to get her stable.”
    “She is stable. You already told us that. I’m her