3 Years

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. The frost that coated the black-tinted windows felt frosty under my fingertips as I pressed down, making two round eyes followed by a curved line- a smile.

“Can you please not do that; it’s going to leave a mark.” His voice came out harsh, startling me. The two-hour drive to our getaway was quiet, conversation being replaced with uncomfortable coughs and stiff movements in our seats. We took turns clearing our throats, tempting each other with words only to swallow back our sentences and ease back into the discomfort of our silence. The space between his driver’s seat and my passenger seat left vacant, worlds apart.

“I’m sorry” was all I could muster, staring at his profile while his gaze was glued forward, on the white road ahead of him, cabins now coming into view all around us. I held my eyes on him for a few seconds, time suspended as I fixated on the frown across the lower half of his face. The disappointment in my chest started firing off explosive twinges that bubbled up to the surface. I took a deep breath in and shifted my body back towards the window. The eyes I had given my smiley face had pooled with condensation and dripped down, creating tears all too relatable.

We'd rented this cabin months ago to celebrate our 3-year anniversary, but we’ve been arguing so much we forgot to cancel it. That’s how we found ourselves now 3 hours outside the boroughs, driving in the middle of a mid-level snowstorm to the cabin coming into full view ahead of us, in calamitous silence.

The place was a glass house constructed to look like a triangular prism with black roofing and an eerie vibe emitting from it. Both levels had floor to ceiling glass panels that reflected the snowy outside, capturing each twinkling flake that had begun to fall - making it impossible to discern where the sky ended and where the floor began.

We parked in front and exited the white Chevrolet which started to blend into its surroundings. I grabbed my bag and walked to the entrance of the cabin marked “1215” in giant metallic numbers drilled into the top. The other nearest cabin was miles away, a small dark dot against a white canvas saturated in winters embrace. Silently, we made our way inside after unlocking the key from its lockbox. The lights came on and gave the cabin life, as if it lay dead for ages before a spark ignited from within. The atmosphere shifted and the warm glow of the lights, coupled with the fire that Andrew was now trying to start at the base of the chimney, gave me a feeling like maybe, just maybe this weekend could save us- me. The air smelled like clean linen and as the cabin started to come alive, the tension started to melt off my body like the flakes I brought inside with me, riding the shoulders of my coat.

“This place is beautiful, are you excited?” I asked Andrew, looking towards his direction only to find myself alone, speaking to the ghost of someone who used to like my company. I didn’t hear his soft footsteps when they made their way upstairs, but I followed only to find him lying on the bed with one arm draped over his face. I saw an opportunity and shamelessly threw myself at it- at the bed I should say. I began to run my hands through his body, tracing the outline of it. I kissed every inch of the torso that lay motionless under my touch, breathing my life into it with a pang of desperation that left in ache in my ego. Andrew lay under half my body, stationary. I thought he was asleep as I stopped and stared in his direction, seeking a response- begging at this point. He took a deep breath in, and my chest crackled in despair.

He was awake.

“Hey” I said, planting another kiss on his chest, above the soft blue fabric of his H&M t-shirt. I moved my right hand to his neck and up his jaw with the most delicate touch, grazing over the stubbled beard hairs peeking through his tan skin. His arm remained, glued over his eyes. My hand met his cheek bone, and my middle finger began to graze it back and forth, until he reached down, grabbed it into his and brought them both to his chest. His eyes met mine and for a moment that seemed to suspend in time, the rhythm of my chest beat in the same alignment of his and I felt a burning desire wash over me. I love this man, I felt it burning a hole in my body. Consuming me. I inched my hand out from under his and placed it over his cheek; pushing myself up with my toes I brought his mouth to mine and the familiarity of his lips generated a warmth in the pit of my very being in a way that exploded and cascaded everywhere. Abruptly, he wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled his head into my neck, interrupting and robbing the situation of any romantic inclination.

I was confused- I had never felt so ugly. “Is everything okay?” I asked him, desperately trying to uncover what had gone wrong. He took a deep breath in and in a defeated tone admitted,

“I’m just tired. The drive was long, and you know driving makes me really tired. Do you wanna make something to eat?”

I closed my eyes in defeat, focusing all my attention on trying to maintain the waves of tears behind my eyes at bay to avoid making this situation worse. I nodded my head and started to get up.

“Hey” he said, grabbing my arm and bringing me back into a hug on the bed “please don’t be upset. I promise it isn’t you- I’m just tired and I don’t want to do all that right now” he said, planting a kiss on my forehead. I felt the warmth of his skin and melted into it- I was starving for his affection in a way I hadn’t begun to unpack.

“Okay” I whispered into his chest, breathing in his scent as if it were the only part of him I could have. We both broke the embrace and got up. I stood up to my feet and my legs moved me as far away from his energy as possible. How can someone I love so much repel me so much? The heart is a wonder. He followed me to the connected bathroom where I had begun to unpack my facial creams and serums, only to wrap his arms around my shoulders. I hate when he does this.

“I love you” he said, more as a statement than an emotional deliverance. He believed in the words he spat at our reflection - anything to avoid looking at each other, but I know he doesn’t understand their real weight and if he did, he wouldn’t say them.

“I know” I said back at his reflection and wiggled myself out of his arms. I had begun walking away to find my phone lying on the bed next to the shattered pieces of my pride. I sat on the edge trying to locate the Wi-Fi domain name and connect to the internet so I could text my best friend to inform her that I was, once again, feeling unwell despite my high hopes for the weekend. The sign I had found at the entrance of the cabin indicated to search for the Wi-Fi name “Cabin1215_NYS” but I couldn’t find it- there was no connection. My service was hardly a bar, and nothing was loading or sending. I threw my body back onto the bed and brought both hands up to my face hoping the cold touch of my anemia would force back the tears that were desperately pleading to splash waterfalls onto my cheeks in shameful defeat. The double breath-in that my body took so forcibly and without permission is what called to Andrew and he darted in like a moth to a flame.

“Are you crying?” he asked, almost as disgusted as he was unsurprised. He expected this because this is our song and dance, our Swan Lake of deterioration. Almost immediately, I began flaring up in anger. Is he kidding me right now?

“No” I said as flatly and emotionless as possible. He plopped onto the bed next to me and poked my side, invoking a cackle from my throat in automatic response. He poked at me again and again until my hands came down from my face and those cackles became outpours of laughter. We locked eyes and for a brief second, I could feel my heart flutter.

His eyes darted away from mine almost instantly and he sat up. “Alright, come on let’s go make something to eat” he slapped my thigh and got up to his feet. Without another word, he made his way downstairs and into the kitchen. I laid there, confused, and hurt in ways I couldn’t comprehend. How did I get here?

Eventually, abandoning my phone with an absent signal, I followed his presence down the stairs into the kitchen against the far back of the cabin. The evening was dragging the sun to rest, and the sky was beginning to gradient into a dark blood-orange color with a steep purple-black following close behind. Despite the darkness tinting the sky hanging above us, the bright illuminative color of the snow forced a spotlight on the wreckage that was our anniversary weekend.

“DAMMIT!” The scream emitted from Andrew’s mouth was animalistic and snapped me out of my disassociation with a swiftness that left me nauseous. I tasted the sickeningly dry, metallic scent before I saw it drenching over the beige marble counter. He had taken it upon himself to cut into the melon we had brought with us for the weekend with the biggest knife he could find. The pungent smell was violently spreading in the kitchen, and despite it leaking out of his left hand, Andrew’s blood was boiling.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to come to this stupid-ass cabin, god DAMN this hurts” he exclaimed callously. My heart sank listening to his confession, but the emotion was almost immediately subdued by my burning demand to be at his aide. I rushed to him and inspected the cut and the way the blood was throbbing out. I looked around the kitchen, locating a dishrag that hung over the oven handle and grabbed it, wrapping it around his hand and applying pressure.

“I’m so sorry” I uttered to him in a defeated tone of voice. “I think you’re going to need stitches with the way you’re bleeding. I’m no expert but I’ve seen a deep cut once or twice ya know” I said chuckling, masking my creaking heart with the dark humor that had helped me survive my teenage years. “You’re going to need stitches” I said again, in response to his expressionless face. “We need to find a hospital to take you to or we can call an ambulance... since we’re guests I think we can try and fight to have insurance pay for it but I can help you look into that if you want to when we have to cross that bridge? My phone hasn’t connected to the Wi-Fi, has yours?”

He nodded and pointed his chin in the direction of his phone, face down and on silent. “Hold pressure” I directed.

I walked over and grabbed his phone, black background to match the case. I held it up to his face instinctively and oddly pushy about my recognition of his privacy. “It’s not working” he said, frustrated. “0728” he indicated as if I didn’t know he would use his own birthday for a passcode.

I punched in the numbers and navigated to google to search up the nearest hospitals, but then it dawned on me that I should look up the weather first to see if we would even be able to drive to the nearest hospital because the truth is I would have to drive and I hate driving with Andrew as the passenger because he is so judgmental and it’s dark out there… ok no let’s google calling an ambulance and if this booking company would pay for it…

and suddenly I felt a buzz. Andrew’s eyes darted up but still mine were fixated on the screen in front of me, but I was alert and aware of his wide-eyes and listening ears. I waited, and then coughed, and as I coughed the phone buzzed again in my hand.

“Sorry” I said loudly, “dust”. I immediately opened the apps of his phone and went to his messages to find missed notifications from his project partner for some physical education class credit he needs for his teaching license. I had my suspicions, and it wouldn’t be the first time, but I was scared of being right.

>>I miss you too

>>can’t wait to “wrestle” again and practice that form with you 😈

>>*attachment*

If the messages weren’t enough, his reactions to each one of the previous ones was. I exited and continued my google search for a few seconds before impulsively calling 911 without consultation of any sort on his part.

"9-1-1 what is your emergency?"

“Hi, I’m staying at a cabin within the White Gates Resort in the snow Alpes passed exit 53, I’m in cabin 1-2-1-5 and and I’m here with my, uh someone cut themselves here and I think we really need stitches, please send someone there’s a lot of snow and blood and I think he’s getting woozy” and Andrew was in fact getting visibly drowsy and losing his balance. I hadn’t realized how he responded to losing blood of this quantity.

"Okay mam I hear ya, we have a unit and a community snow removal truck on the way please try and keep your friend conscious as much as possible and if you have something with some sugar have him drink it and keep him awake."

“Oh, okay okay let me see- uhh” I replaced my hand with my raised shoulder to hold the phone up to my ear and began to use both hands to rummage through our weekend supplies half-unpacked. The anxiety inter-mingled with the fury in my body and exploded out in a frustrated yell when I couldn’t find the juice.

“Calm down, I’m the one who’s bleeding” Andrew muttered under his breath while the operator reminded me that “situations like this call for a calm head” as if I didn’t just find out this man was cheating on me. Instinctively, impulsively I hung-up.

“Do it yourself then” I screamed his way and threw the phone at his feet “liar!” He didn’t look up at me. I shoved my hands into his chest, seeking a reaction, again, and again until his balance was challenged, and he tried to shove me back. One step and I moved out of his way. He used his bleeding hand to catch his balance on the countertop. Sliding on the blood, his body fell out from under him and his head thunked against the cold granite floor, hard. He lay there for a few seconds while some blood started to spread like spilled wine.

I froze.

The hard knocks on the front door shook my disassociation, how long had I been standing there?

Innocent, I answered the door, his blood dripping from the palms of my hands mixed with the condensation of panic and fear. As the door opened, the EMT stood in horror as his gaze met mine, then down to my hands, then beyond me at the body barely breathing on the floor behind me, blood pooled on the floor from his head.

"No, no- I didn't want to kill him ...I'm the one who made the call!"

~ The end ~

Word count: 2,725