85: It Matters

Marie

     I put Jeremy in his crib once we get to Pam and Simon's house. The little guy had passed out asleep the second Jesse put Martha in drive.
     He has a tiny room; it reminds me of the little room I had at Mom and Greg's house. Xavier and my one-time step-brother DeMarco shared a bigger room. I liked my little space until Benjamin was born. They stuck his crib in my tiny room. I used to spend one week with Dad and then one week with Mom, and she and Greg said I could be a big help with the baby in my room. I felt even more shoved to the side, like Ben the baby was sharing a room with me instead of the other way around.
      I turn around and see Jesse looking at me with a goofy look on his face. He looks enormous in here, like a giant in a dollhouse.

     My hands silently motion for Jesse to back out of the toddler's room.

     "Okay," he whispers and holds his hands up in surrender as he backs out.

     Adele stands in the hallway, and I'm somewhat surprised to see her in a nightgown. I didn't know she had clothes here.

     "I'll just go to bed since Jer-jer's asleep too. Goodnight." She surprises me again when she hugs us both, but I don't let it show.

     "Night, kiddo," Jesse says and playfully ruffles her hair.

     My heart melts, and I can't help but imagine how good a dad he could be with our kids someday. He'll be the playful kind of dad that, in my mind, all kids want. I blink back a tear with how much I like the idea of him being the father of my future children.

     'See? You don't need Dawson,' my mind throws at me. At first, I think it's a helpful thought, but then I wish I hadn't have even thought about him at all. That tainted a wonderful moment.

     Dawson's getting married. He's going to help create little Cristina spawn.

     The two of us still in the hallway, Jesse stands behind me and winds his arms around my waist, and he kisses the back of my neck before he asks, "How are you so good at this?"

     I smile. "I took care of my brothers all the time."

     "And I'll bet you did a great job. You're a natural." His mood alters with an intake of breath, and his hands start roving around me. They turn me around to face him, and his mouth descends on mine, claiming it hungrily.

     "Jesse!" I hiss in a whisper. "We are babysitting!"

     He whispers back, "And they're in bed." His hands cup and massage my behind.

     "We have to behave ourselves!" I gasp when his fingers reach between my legs and move forward farther than I expect, and they start moving in small, torturous circles. "Jesse, please," I whimper quietly.

     "Marie, you make me crazy for wanting you all the time anyway, but watching you just now…" He finishes his statement with another deep kiss.

     'I'll bet he's better in bed than Dawson could ever be anyway.'

     Shut up! Stop it! Dawson's a pig.

     'Exactly. You don't need him. After all, he apparently doesn't miss you one bit judging from how quickly he got engaged to Cristina once you left.'

     I gasp from the pain of that thought. Still, I realize that that's what hurts so much, that the two of them got engaged so quickly. Did he ever really love me, or was I simply a backup plan after we both thought that Cristina had left for good to live in Riverview?
      Jesse's posture stiffens up after my last gasp. Please think that was a good gasp from something you did and not because my mind keeps wandering. He pulls back to look down at me.

     "Something wrong?" he asks. I sense him willing me to look at him, but my eyes hide from his.

     I wish he hadn't have asked that. Biting my lip, I study the floor, wishing I could think of something to say to answer his question.

     Silently, he takes my hands and leads me into the living room before wordlessly gesturing for me to sit with him on the sofa. I plop down on a cushion, and he walks around me to carefully take a seat and wrap his arm around my shoulder.

     "Talk to me. Something's up. Is it still about the bracelet?" he asks, his eyes searching my face, desperately trying to read me. He does a better job at that than he knows. Dawson and I had been friends for about a decade, and he still didn't guess my moods correctly.

     "No," I tell him, happy that I can at least tell him that.

     "Then what?"

     I sigh. How do I tell him this without him taking it personally?

     "I talked to my family this morning," I start.

     "Don't tell me you're going back," he quickly interjects in a panicked way, his mind jumping to a false conclusion. Something inside me relaxes with the knowledge that he doesn't want me to leave. I didn't think he did, but it's nice to know for sure.

     "No. They're coming here actually, but-"

     "Huh? When?"

     "I do not know. It depends if my brothers can miss school and if my mother's doctor says it's okay for her to travel."

     "All of them?" His eyes grow wider, something I didn't think possible from his already panicked expression.

     "Well, yes, but this isn't what's bothering me." I hope to get him to calm down about my family coming. I don't need that compounding with what I'll have to tell him in a minute.

     "No. Why should it bother you?" he asks, stressing the 'you' ever so slightly.

     I sigh. Maybe I shouldn't tell him about Dawson. I've given him enough to process for now. Telling him about the other will just make it worse.

     I reach up to lightly pet his face and decide to try to stick with this topic. "Do you not want to meet my family?"

     "Um. Well. It's not like I don't want to not meet them because well, it's bound to happen eventually, but…"

     My brow creases in confusion.

     He changes the subject. "Tell me what's bothering you then."

     I wilt, slouching where I sit. That didn't work. "I don't want to tell you. I don't want you to worry."

     "Too late. You mentioned worry. Now, I'm worried." His eyes dart across my face, showing the thousands of fleeting thoughts as he has them. I wish I knew him well enough to accurately guess what he's thinking.

     "It's my problem; let me deal with it," I say gently, hoping that stops his curiosity but knowing it probably won't.

     He backs his head up and fixes me with a stunned stare for several seconds before he finally speaks. "Um, Marie? Do you know what that sounds like?" He swallows. "'Deal' with it? And it's not just your problem. I have to be wrong on this. It's very unlikely, but the way you said that-"

     "Jesse, I have no idea what you're talking about."

     I hope for him to clarify what he means, but he doesn't. "Go on then. Why don't you want to tell me?" he prods while reaching for me and pulling me across his lap.

     "Because it might hurt your feelings because you'd take it the wrong way," I tell him honestly.

     "Okay. It's something your family member told you. It's not about the bracelet even though you had a funny look on your face and acted a little strange there for a minute. It might hurt my feelings because I could take it the wrong way."

     I let him hold me while he continues to mutter the clues. Part of me hopes he figures it out on his own, but more of me wishes I could come up with a better way to do this.

     "Family member, hurt feelings: Is this about what's-his-name?" he guesses correctly, and I hide my face in his neck. "Some lame-ass TV show… Dawson. That's his name. Is this about him?" he asks after muttering again.

     I don't answer him.

     "Marie?" he asks. Then, his voice sounds clipped. "Is it or isn't it?"

     I let out a huff. "It is, but it's stupid. It doesn't matter anyway."

     "If it doesn't matter, then why are you upset?"

     "I'm not upset," I say quickly in order to buy some more time.

     He sighs quickly. "Fine. Not upset. Agitated, bothered, distracted."

     "Because it doesn't matter! Why should I care?!" I quietly exclaim, remembering the sleeping toddler.

     "Did he break up with her and is coming here for you?" he asks, and his arms tighten around me.

     "No," I answer succinctly.

     Jesse pauses, thinking. I guess he didn't expect me to say no. His arms slowly loosen their grip.

     "Why don't you just tell me? What? Did he ask her to marry him?"

     Oh no. "Oui," I cry and fist Jesse's shirt in my hand, holding it tightly.

     He gets quiet. I know why he's not talking. His feelings are hurt, and he doesn't want to let me see or hear it. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid, but I knew there was no way I was going to hide it from him for long.

     "It doesn't matter," I whisper and kiss him along his jaw. He stays completely still, and it breaks my heart that he's hurting.

     "Apparently it does," he says with a gruff voice.

     "No. He's a pig. I love you, Jesse." Look at me! I grab his jaw to jerk his face in my direction. The hurt in his eyes kills me when he lets me turn his head, and I want to hide again. I force myself to hold his gaze anyway.

     "You have always avoided answering me directly when I've asked you if you still love him. Do you still love him, Marie?" His eyes burn into mine.

     "He hurt me. I love you," I answer quietly, hoping that will suffice.

     "Yes or no."

     I can't answer him! I desperately want to say no, but something holds me back.

     Answer him, Marie! Tell him no!

     But don't lie.

     He's dying inside! Don't hurt him!

     I feel my face screw up. "I don't know."

     His hands cover his face, and he gently gets out from under me to stand up. He's quiet while he walks over to stand near the big window in Pamela's reading area.

     "Jesse, this is why I didn't want to talk to you about this." My heart breaks for the pain he tries to hide. I wish I could figure out a way to fix it. This situation could get worse still... A sudden fear that he'll want to end our relationship shoots through me like a flaming arrow.

     "You told me," he says, but I don't think it's in response to what I just said. "You told me you needed time, and I didn't listen. I thought I could make you forget him, and I thought I had. I'd been warned, but I was too stubborn to listen."

     "You do make me forget him! I love you! I don't know why I'm making a big deal about this because it doesn't matter!" It doesn't! I jump off the couch and grab his shoulder, trying to get him to turn and look at me. He brushes my hand off him, and a small, hurt cry slips out of me.

     Suddenly, he turns around with a look of horror on his face before he traps me in his arms, holding me tightly. His large hand threads itself into my hair, holding my head as he says, "It does matter. You don't want it to, and you've been trying to tell yourself that it doesn't, but it does. At least you don't want it to matter." He sounds resigned, but I decide that's better than hurt anger. The fear that he'll break up with me slowly dissipates. "This is partly my fault. I didn't give you a chance to really get over him, and had I to do it all over again, I'd do the exact same damn thing because that's just how I am. You're not over him, Marie, not completely, and I wish you were because it drives me crazy!" His arms shake a little.

     I take quick, staggered breaths while I work on calming myself down. Right now, I don't care about anything else except that he's holding me, and I relax into him. Then, I think of something to say, "I want to be completely over him, like you say. Help me." Just don't give up on me, Jesse! I close my eyes while my head rests against his chest, and I soak up the secure feel of his arms around me.

     "Oh, you'd better fucking believe I'm gonna." He pulls me back for a second so he can look down at me, acting like he's about to say something else. Then, he changes his mind and kisses me hard instead. I let him. I need it.