Post by Jack Graves on Jul 25, 2022 18:07:13 GMT
Her words kept replaying in his head. It was all he could hear. “You have changed. You’re not the same person I fell in love with. You’ve made some really questionable decisions as of late and I have to think about the safety of myself and my kid. Jack. Look at me please…”
His eyes stayed affixed to the floor. Just like they had when she walked out the door to head back to LA. The sound of silence in the house he’d bought for them was deafening. There was no laughter or the sound of Phoenix cooing and playing in the living room like he’d gotten used to. There were no smells of dinner cooking or one of Rayven’s wax melts. It was cold and empty, and he was alone. Again.
It wasn’t like he could blame her. What she’d said was true. He was a bad person, and he always had been. He’d spent a whole lifetime taking from people, and hurting people that this hurt was just karma coming back on him like he knew it always would. It didn’t make it hurt any less though. He’d loved her. Really loved her. When it came time to leap off a bridge, he’d jumped without a second thought because he couldn’t imagine another second of his life without her and now she was gone. She’d walked out on him just like everyone else in his life had. She’d given up on him and written him off, just like everyone else had. Even after she’d promised that she would be different and that she loved him for him…at the end of the day, it was who he was fundamentally at his core that ultimately pushed her away. He was a bad apple. Rotten to the core. Always had been.
After all that he’d been through in his rough and tumble life though, this wouldn’t be the thing that killed him. No matter how badly he wanted it to be. He was too strong.
That’s why he finally willed himself up from the couch, and he crossed the room to the coat closet by the door. Swinging it open, Jack slipped on a random pair of shoes and grabbed his jacket to rifle through the pockets until he found what he was looking for. He slipped the small black box into his pocket and left the door swinging as he turned to grab his keys and head out of the house toward his convertible canary yellow 1967 Chevy Impala.
The tires squealed all the way down the block as the American muscle under the hood tore through Jack’s neighborhood like a bat out of hell. The roar of the engine seemed to stop the thoughts going through his mind…momentarily at least, and he disregarded any and all traffic laws, lights, and signs as he sailed down the highway, heading toward the I-95 on ramp. The needle on the speedometer continued to climb until everything became a blur as it flew by. The rush of wind whooshing through the car, drying the droplets of sweat on his brow from the hot summer day.
Jack’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, weaving through traffic and narrowly avoiding being t-boned at intersections. He could feel his heart climbing its way up his throat. Broken, but still thundering a mile a minute from the adrenaline rush.
But he drove.
and drove.
and drove some more, until he found himself sliding to a stop on the Boston University Bridge hours later. The same bridge that Julian had tossed Rayven off of not too long ago. Graves sat there a moment, staring at the railing and reliving the moment he’d leaped off to save her in his mind. He gave himself just a few moments, before killing the engine and stepping out of the classic ride.
His boots clopped against the pavement as he crossed the street, and he made his way up to the railing to look down at the water below. The wind was beginning to pick up, thunder in the distance giving a bellowing crack as Jack stared down at the depths below, contempltating jumping head first this time. Finally, after a moment of silent reflection, Jack takes the box out of his pocket and his shaking hands crack open the lid.
Staring back up at him was the 3.5-carat diamond engagement ring he’d bought for Rayven just a week ago. He’d planned to propose live on the next episode of Empire, and now it was all over. Washed away like the sediment in the river below his feet.
He gave himself a few more moments to stare at the ring, imagining what could’ve been. The happy life he thought they’d have. Then he closed the box and flung it like an outfielder trying to beat a runner home in the bottom of the 9th. The box sailed out into the darkness and made a soft splash as it hit the water.
By the time it sank, Jack was already gone…
So were any of the feelings that may have remained for Rayven Hardy. The moment that the ring left his hand, she was dead to him. He cut ties with any feelings and memories that may have remained and he buried them deep.
Because he had to remain focused. He was going to become a champion, and there was absolutely nothing that was going to hold him back.
Not even this.
His eyes stayed affixed to the floor. Just like they had when she walked out the door to head back to LA. The sound of silence in the house he’d bought for them was deafening. There was no laughter or the sound of Phoenix cooing and playing in the living room like he’d gotten used to. There were no smells of dinner cooking or one of Rayven’s wax melts. It was cold and empty, and he was alone. Again.
It wasn’t like he could blame her. What she’d said was true. He was a bad person, and he always had been. He’d spent a whole lifetime taking from people, and hurting people that this hurt was just karma coming back on him like he knew it always would. It didn’t make it hurt any less though. He’d loved her. Really loved her. When it came time to leap off a bridge, he’d jumped without a second thought because he couldn’t imagine another second of his life without her and now she was gone. She’d walked out on him just like everyone else in his life had. She’d given up on him and written him off, just like everyone else had. Even after she’d promised that she would be different and that she loved him for him…at the end of the day, it was who he was fundamentally at his core that ultimately pushed her away. He was a bad apple. Rotten to the core. Always had been.
After all that he’d been through in his rough and tumble life though, this wouldn’t be the thing that killed him. No matter how badly he wanted it to be. He was too strong.
That’s why he finally willed himself up from the couch, and he crossed the room to the coat closet by the door. Swinging it open, Jack slipped on a random pair of shoes and grabbed his jacket to rifle through the pockets until he found what he was looking for. He slipped the small black box into his pocket and left the door swinging as he turned to grab his keys and head out of the house toward his convertible canary yellow 1967 Chevy Impala.
The tires squealed all the way down the block as the American muscle under the hood tore through Jack’s neighborhood like a bat out of hell. The roar of the engine seemed to stop the thoughts going through his mind…momentarily at least, and he disregarded any and all traffic laws, lights, and signs as he sailed down the highway, heading toward the I-95 on ramp. The needle on the speedometer continued to climb until everything became a blur as it flew by. The rush of wind whooshing through the car, drying the droplets of sweat on his brow from the hot summer day.
Jack’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, weaving through traffic and narrowly avoiding being t-boned at intersections. He could feel his heart climbing its way up his throat. Broken, but still thundering a mile a minute from the adrenaline rush.
But he drove.
and drove.
and drove some more, until he found himself sliding to a stop on the Boston University Bridge hours later. The same bridge that Julian had tossed Rayven off of not too long ago. Graves sat there a moment, staring at the railing and reliving the moment he’d leaped off to save her in his mind. He gave himself just a few moments, before killing the engine and stepping out of the classic ride.
His boots clopped against the pavement as he crossed the street, and he made his way up to the railing to look down at the water below. The wind was beginning to pick up, thunder in the distance giving a bellowing crack as Jack stared down at the depths below, contempltating jumping head first this time. Finally, after a moment of silent reflection, Jack takes the box out of his pocket and his shaking hands crack open the lid.
Staring back up at him was the 3.5-carat diamond engagement ring he’d bought for Rayven just a week ago. He’d planned to propose live on the next episode of Empire, and now it was all over. Washed away like the sediment in the river below his feet.
He gave himself a few more moments to stare at the ring, imagining what could’ve been. The happy life he thought they’d have. Then he closed the box and flung it like an outfielder trying to beat a runner home in the bottom of the 9th. The box sailed out into the darkness and made a soft splash as it hit the water.
By the time it sank, Jack was already gone…
So were any of the feelings that may have remained for Rayven Hardy. The moment that the ring left his hand, she was dead to him. He cut ties with any feelings and memories that may have remained and he buried them deep.
Because he had to remain focused. He was going to become a champion, and there was absolutely nothing that was going to hold him back.
Not even this.