An echo, more like a memory, of the pain I’ve experienced is forever ingrained in me. In fact, I think back on the last year of my life. Somehow, I had gone from the woman who was excited about the prospect of what her future held to hiding from my past, hoping it wouldn’t catch up with me, finding a way to kill me.
The day after finding the note inside Logan’s apartment, we drove as fast and far as we could. Abruptly leaving the place I had called home has left a permanent scar that will forever weigh down on me. Guilt has become a constant force in my life. I’d left my family without a word. I’d left Abby without a word. As the days pass, I miss them more than I did the day before. There were many difficult choices Logan and I had to make in our attempt to escape and not a day goes by where I don’t remember them. I’ve also tried to come to terms with my decision to leave Providence. Was it the right one? Has it really changed our false sense of security? Probably not.
As time moves on and it seems as if life passes me by the line between right and wrong becomes even more blurred than the day before.
Despite the constant state of fear I’ve been living under, there is one person in my life, holding me together. Logan. If there’s one thing I don’t regret about this past year, it’s marrying him.
My life changed the day we left Providence. It also changed because it led me to marry Logan. We were halfway across the country, driving through the northern portion of Missouri when we had seen a billboard for a wedding chapel. I’d found the billboard odd and out of place. I’d always assumed quick ceremony wedding chapels were only found in Las Vegas. The kind where you walk in as the other couple walks out and the officiate is an Elvis impersonator. The tall flashing sign looked out of place in the middle of rural Missouri but when Logan and I caught ourselves eyeing the billboard as we passed it, we turned to one another and smiled. Logan’s mouth spread into a wide grin as he took the exit to the small chapel off the highway.
I never regretted the moment I said those two words. “I do.” Luckily, our Justice of the Peace wasn’t an Elvis impersonator and we didn’t have to stand in line, waiting for our turn to be married. It may not have been how I’d pictured marrying the man I love but looking back on it now, I wouldn’t have married Logan any other way.
But sometimes life isn’t always what it seems. Although Logan is an incredibly supportive husband, I’ve perfected the skill of keeping my demons to myself.
Logan’s eyes shine against the orange morning sun pouring through the window and he’s looking at me like I’ve just lifted a heavy weight from his shoulders by agreeing to have lunch with him. He misses the old Lena and I know it. Every day he tries to pull me out of my deep-rooted funk, his hand constantly outstretched, waiting for me to grab on.
He’s now standing at the end of the kitchen, ready to leave. I cross the room and meet him. His hand immediately slides against my waist, pulling me close. He doesn’t speak. He simply holds me.
“I’m sorry I’m so out of it this morning.” I sigh and look up at him, my arms wrapped around his waist.
“You can talk to me about it if you like.” His voice is low, cautious. He knows he’s tiptoeing across a topic that can easily add to the fractures already buried in my mind. He places his lips to my forehead and it’s the warmest feeling I’ve ever felt.
I slide my tongue across my teeth, considering his offer. How can I tell my husband that my ex-boyfriend still haunts my thoughts and lives in my dreams? I don’t like to talk about Julian. Especially to Logan. Especially to Logan. Over the past year, we promised one another to never speak of him again. We refused to let him enter our lives again, to intervene in our relationship. Recently, no matter how much time has passed, I still think of him. It also seems like the more time that has passed, the more I feel like Julian is still present in my life.
But having lived through what Julian did to Logan, how could I possibly bring myself to confess how he still haunts my thoughts and lives in my dreams? How do I tell him that I’m worried the note was only the beginning?
“It’s okay.” I shake my head and unravel myself from around his body, resigning to keep my secrets to myself. Logan doesn’t need to worry about me. “It’s nothing.”
“Right.” His mouth presses into a thin line and his chest falls. It’s as if the relief I gave him only moments ago has completely disappeared. His chest puffs out as he takes a deep breath. He knows I’m lying but doesn’t fight me on it. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way home.”
After placing a kiss on my cheek, Logan tells me he loves me then leaves the kitchen and heads for the front door. I listen as Logan punches in the code to our security system. When we moved into the house, it was already set up with a basic alarm system, one that monitored all the doors and windows to our house. It came with an app that told you when the system was armed and disabled.
After he’s gone, I turn back to the window and the sad, worn-out shed sitting in my back yard.
I press my hands against the counter and lean forward, left to my own thoughts.
It’s been a whole year. One whole
