Chapter 60: An Imperfect Brick Wall

*Joe's POV*

This morning was like any other. Setting three alarms back-to-back, the two of them ignored to get ten extra minutes of sleep before trudging out of bed to make a travel transition either on my tour bus or a plane. Find the best coffee shop around town when we make it to our destination, this being my second cup of coffee of the day thus far; I'd never function without brewing a cup first thing in the morning with my portable coffee grinder, making it accessible to make a mean pour-over on the go. Try to get a decent workout in at the hotel. And the most important daily agenda, calling my daughters to simply hear their voices.

Well, it was almost like any other morning on tour. Natalia was still here, joining me on the road for the week. It was only supposed to be for two days, but those two days quickly changed to a week.

"Hey, Babe?" Natalia stared at her phone screen with a confused frown as she sat in a chair next to mine, our table outside of the casual diner, "When was the last time you talked to Maddy?"

"I don't know. A couple weeks ago, I guess?" I stabbed a plentiful bite of my side salad on my fork, "Why?"

"Because she's at the baby shower," she replied, the plate of food in front of her untouched as her focus was still set on her phone screen.

"You tried to call Jules earlier, right?" I asked after swallowing my bite, "When I stepped away for a second to talk to my girls?"

She nodded, setting her phone down on the table, "She didn't answer. But why wouldn't Maddy tell me, especially when she's going herself?"

"Did you ever text Maddy back?" I inquired, a piece of a cut-up carrot escaping my fork stabs a few times.

She slouched her back against her chair, picking up a fry off her plate but daring not to eat it as she mumbled, "No."

"So why are you expecting her to reach out to someone that won't even text back after all the other times she has?" I finally caught the piece of carrot to add to the mix of spinach leaves, thin slivers of red onions, and crumbled feta cheese and raised it to my mouth, "You're basically a brick wall at this point."

My response wasn't meant to come across as insensitive, but her immediate glare established what I was trying to communicate was taken wrong. Being misunderstood with my words were common for me, ever since I was a young kid. They sounded right in my brain, but once I spoke them aloud, they no longer made sense with what I was trying to convey.

Her teeth lightly sunk into her bottom lip in her mouth as they pressed together, "A brick wall, hm? At least they're strong, if the grout between them is solid at least. Mine has a lot of air bubbles though, many unable to see. That's what you saw last night, right? I mean, you love to tell me all these metaphorical analogies and life lessons, so I'd think you'd be able to understand this one. Are you proud you're able to break down that brick wall and vice versa? Oh wait, I forgot. We had to fuck first."

I lowered my fork in a stare-off, my blinks not even breaking it, "That's not what I meant. You've been pushing her away, Nat. Also, you initiated last night. You told me not to stop. You wanted that distraction. Not me. I didn't need that to open up. I just needed time to process what happened in London myself first."

"I'm pushing away someone that made no initiative to visit me in the hospital," her wavering voice grew louder, turning a few heads in our direction, "Jules too. So forgive me when I have no idea what the fuck to say to her."

"Maddy did," it was hard to remain calm, but I knew I had to while in a public setting with strangers around us having phones to record at any given moment, "She asked your mom once she found out if it would be okay. She was told no. That's why she wouldn't give me any information on where you were taken. I thought it was just because you wouldn't want me to see you like that, but that wasn't it. Or, at least not the whole entire reason. Look, Nat, I don't know shit what went down with you and Jules, but Maddy—"

"You're right. You don't know shit," she cut my words with hers to debunk them, "With Maddy too. Her caring texts stopped the second she knew about the abuse he put me through."

I scanned the area, hoping not to catch any cameras or phones pointed slyly in directions straight to us, "Can we finish this in the bus?"

She crossed her arms around her midriff after gesturing with her hand to my food for me to finish it, me winning the stare-off as she gazed away scowling.

I pushed the plate away as I sighed, "Go to the bus. I'll meet you there in a minute after I pay."

Without any sort of eye contact, she grabbed her crutch that had been stood up against the table and hobbled on her own to my tour bus. It was the only privacy we'd be able to get, once we made it to the arena and the driver left us be, that is. So to say the drive there was silently uncomfortable was an understatement, neither one of us making a single sound or movement. Not even scrolling on my phone as a self-soother from the antsy panic and frustration I was feeling.

Once the driver parked my tour bus next to Nick's in the back of the arena, I waited for Natalia to start the conversation back up. My nails clicked as I fiddled with the ends of them with each other, glancing at her every now and again.

Air exhaled loudly out of her nostrils as she sat up from the small couch, right across from where I was sitting near a smaller seat with a table, "I know Maddy talked to you the day after everything happened and told you not to come. I also know you've still been talking to her. Maybe not often, but more than me. You know what her messages to me have been since I woke up in the hospital? Very surface-level shit about work. That's it. Just reminding me of a place I had no choice but to leave with all my dreams and stability."

"Maybe she doesn't know what to say either," I softly replied once our eyes locked.

"I'd believe it's pretty easy to ask someone they give a shit about if there's anything they can do or how they're doing after everything's come to light," she adjusted herself lower on the couch, grabbing one of the extra throw pillows to clutch onto over her stomach.

"Nat, she knew for a while," I admitted, "She first told me when we were in Miami. That's how I knew to look at your arm, although I probably would've noticed it regardless. It wasn't that hidden in the pool."

Her arms tightened around the pillow in a crisscross as she turned her head to look straight ahead, "So she knew all along too?"

"I don't know how long, but she knew before his first arrest," I scooted out of my seat to get closer to her, to let her feel my tender touch on her cheek with my hand while I sat on the edge of the couch, "She does care."

Her eyes filled up with tears, but only to a certain extent before the watering can emptied, providing no fallen salty lines or drops, "So then why doesn't she show it? Does she feel the guilt like you to where it's become this giant taboo topic? I mean, that's why you don't talk about it with me, right?"

I cocked my head, freezing my thumb just on the apple of her cheek, "What? When did I ever say I feel guilty to you?"

"Your direct messages on Instagram very much alluded to you feeling guilty for not going back to my apartment with me that night," she confessed, her gaze trailing to me just as I looked away.

I lowered my hand back in my lap, my mind recalling the embarrassing bombarding messages I deleted in a failed attempt for her not to see them, "So you did see them."

She nodded, "I'm not great at this stuff either. Clearly. But I'm—"

Her phone vibrating the couch cushion interrupted our moment that could've ended as precious, but her attention no longer was on us. It was on Jules, a name that hadn't popped up on her phone in over a month by now.

"Sorry, can you—" she paused, motioning with her head towards the back of the bus, "Can you give me some space? Not far though. I don't know how this is going to go."

"Yeah," I cleared my throat as a I stood up, already heading towards the back of the bus for the privacy she asked for, "Of course. Good luck, Babe."

I popped my AirPods in both ears and played my music at a low level, humming along to the tune to drown out their video call in the background. The humming dissolved once my thoughts became stronger than the music, the kind of thoughts that would keep me awake all night.

But those thoughts also disappeared, or took a backseat, once I glanced up at Natalia standing near with fresh shiny lines of wet tears running down her cheeks and a disingenuous smile, "I was right. It's a girl."

I took out my AirPods, clutching them in one of my palms as my other hand took over on brushing away each tear, "No way. Really? You were right. That's exciting, isn't it? Why aren't these happy tears?"

"Because the gender wasn't the first thing she told me," she sniffed, pulling up the pictures of the baby shower Jules had sent her within their short call to show me, sliding through the snapshots of the moment caught in action, "She's getting married. I don't even know the dude. Fuck, does she even know the dude? It's only been a few months. Yeah, we knew of him in high school, but I just—we always talked about—"

Her stumbling came to a halt as she dropped her phone to her side, the tears continuing to stream down from her big brown eyes that stared into mine, "I wasn't there. I missed two of her biggest milestones. I wasn't even invited."

I pulled her in as she clung to me, her fists taking in balls of my hoodie while her weeping stained the front of it, right where my heart was, "I'm sorry."

"You know she knew too? Before Maddy told her, I mean," she leaned away just enough for me to place a lingering kiss on her forehead as she wiped her face with the ends of her sleeves, "She knew about the verbal and emotional abuse. No. No, she saw it, just like apparently everyone else did. But you know what her reaction was? Abandoning me. Leaving me to the devil himself. I thought, 'Okay. Maybe she's just tired of watching me make all these mistakes, forgiving him over and over again, and had to cut me off until she realized he changed too.' Because I truly thought it couldn't get worse. That it'd work out, and my life would go back to being normal again. But he didn't change. He never did, and it's my fault for forgiving him."

"It's not your fault," I consoled, laying her head against me as my fingers ran through her hair while I felt her body jolt with each sob, "The devil disguised himself to look like a saint. You didn't know."

"I knew he was the reason why I couldn't follow my dream in the first place," she refuted, "I did know. I knew what he was capable of, but I still forgave him. I'm stupid. Everything about this is so fucking stupid."

"Babe," I spoke as she pulled away, walking with a slight limp in the opposite direction to exit the bus.

"And you. You didn't ask to get involved in this," she turned back around to face me, a good space of distance now between us, "You're wheeling and carrying me around like you can fix this wound too, but you can't. Not even physical therapy is helping. That's why I don't even care I'm ditching it, because at least I get some sort of happiness when I'm with you. You never abandoned me despite feeling guilty. You made efforts to make sure I never felt like I wasn't supported."

I slightly parted my mouth, hesitating on what part I should respond to first, "You're ditching physical therapy? Nat, that's stupid. It won't help right away. It takes patience and time, but it can help."

"I've been doing physical therapy, Joe, and all it's done is confirm I need another surgery," she countered, her pain painting itself through anger in her voice, "Next week, I have an appointment with my surgeon. I'll know the surgery date then. Until then, I've chosen to stay here with you."

"Wait," her change in deciding to extend her time on the road with me clicked, "You told me your physical therapist had to take a week off because of a family emergency, and you didn't feel comfortable working with anyone else in the meantime. So you lied."

"Yeah, I lied," she replied without a beat, "So what? Now we can enjoy physically being with each other instead of wallowing in depression and relying on our nightly phone calls to keep us going."

"You still lied," I stayed in place, keeping the distance between us, "Is it that hard to tell me the truth? I mean, yeah, you weren't wrong when you said we had to fuck first before you could actually talk to me. Is that what's gotta happen for me to break down that brick wall of yours every time?"

She instinctively sucked back anymore tears that were about to spill, regretting letting her guard down in front of me, "I'm pretty sure I just opened up to you without us fucking, but now that you reminded me how you get me to show you sides of me I barely ever let my mom see, yeah. Either fucking or breaking me down to the edge of giving me no other choice or control."

I raised my eyebrows, the sting of her words physically paining my heart in a burning ache, "I break you down to where you feel like you have no control or a choice in the matter?"

"More times than I can count," she shot back matter-of-factly before breaking our intense eye contact to exit the bus, "I'll see you inside."

Going after her was my first option that made sense, but instead I stayed behind in my tour bus. I wasn't sure if I was too stunned to move, or if it was best I reflected in the comfort of my own space on all the times I did wrong.

I thought I apologized for it all already, us moving forwards instead of being stuck in the blame game. I thought I was changing to be a better man, not just for Natalia but for myself as well. I thought our relationship was the only thing going good in my life, the one thing I actually fought for and succeeded in keeping it a constant flow of bliss.

Or maybe I was mistaken. Maybe I hadn't changed, treating her like she was something I could play with until I was presented with a new shiny toy. Maybe I pushed too hard for us to be official, giving her no choice or an option to say no.

But I knew that wasn't true. I knew I gave her control despite me being confident on where I stood. I still gave her that opportunity to reject me, numerous times. I knew I had changed, otherwise we would have had sex when I visited her in Boston. I knew in my heart I wasn't a bad person. I made shitty decisions at times, half of them being unintentional, but I wasn't a bad person.