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The cool air chills Joyce’s skin, her soft flesh littered with small bumps. Hopper is walking a few paces in front of her, swaying slightly with each tread he takes down the dimly lit street.
She’s not drunk but she can definitely feel the alcohol coursing through her body giving her a giddy feeling. Hopper however, is very drunk - his loud boisterous voice is booming out the lyrics to the music from the party as it thrums lightly down the usually quiet street.
None of the words he’s singing are correct but Joyce couldn’t help the smile spread across her face, she was so stupidly in love with this boy.
Joyce folds her arms across the front of her small frame, trying to warm herself up as she watches Hopper. He jogs clumsily towards a street lamp, his loose Levi’s sliding lower down his hips from the quick movements. Hopper reaches the round sphere that is illuminated from above and turns to look at her, extending his arm, splaying his hand wide for her to take it.
“What are you doing?” Joyce giggles
“Dance with me!” Hopper shouts, wiggling his fingers.
Joyce shakes her head but takes a couple of steps towards him, coming into the warm light. When she’s within reach, Hopper cups her elbow in his large hand and gently pulls her flush against him.
She stares up at him, his eyes are glassy from intoxication but Joyce can see the love that fills them when he looks at her. They begin to rock slowly, she rests her head against his chest just above his beating heart, her hands run up his chest and around to the base of his neck. Hopper slips his hands around her waist and settles them against her lower back, anchoring her to him.
The music playing doesn’t match their movements but neither of them are really listening anymore, they’re just following one another - the fast rhythmic music pounds quickly but they lazily shift from their left foot to their right.
Joyce is beginning to warm up, being incased in his large arms and broad chest she can feel his heat soaking into her. However she feels an interrupting brush of cold air as he bunches her sweatshirt in his hands and slides his palms underneath.
She shivers and burrows deeper into his embrace.
“Cold” Joyce mumbles against the fabric of shirt.
He slips his hands out from under her sweatshirt and brings them to either side of her face. He leans in and places a hot, swearing kiss against her lips.
She returns the affection with vigour, meeting his tongue with her own and nibbling on his lower lip. She can taste the lingering alcohol on his breath as well as the hint of cigarettes but then there’s something else that’s so unexplainably Hopper.
They separate only when the need for air becomes necessary.
“Better?” Hopper slurs slightly, a goofy smile plastered on his face.
-
Jim Hopper is popular.
He has a large group of friends, he’s on the football team, is a nice guy and is ridiculously charming. People love him.
Joyce is kind but introverted, people didn’t even notice her until she and Hopper started dating. Even when they walk hand in hand people still refer to her has “Hops girlfriend”, never using her name.
Hopper would get irritated at his friends or peers at school, correcting them and make them use her name. She didn’t mind, though she was happy to be anonymous but she always felt her cheeks warm fondly when he made sure everyone knew who she was and that she was with him.
That’s what he did, he made her feel loved. Before him she’d never felt that.
Hopper would tell her often that she’s his “favourite”, Joyce would poke fun and question him by asking ‘favourite what?’. Without hesitation Hopper would grow serious and pour his soul into one word that was weighted with promises…
“Everything”
This would always get her choked up, never quite believing her luck that she had someone who loved her so unconditionally, that she loved so deeply in return.
She did worry that Hopper sacrificed things for her. Football parties, weekend trips, sporting events but he’d turn it all down just so he could spend his weekends with her, so willing to give her every second of his time. Joyce did encourage him to go to some of the football parties but he only would if she agreed to go with him. She did and they would have fun but it usually ended up with them sneaking off to an abandoned room or leaving early.
She always goes to his games when he’s playing, but when the cheerleaders would run onto the field and praise the players with kisses, Hopper would grab her hand and pull her behind the bleachers. When he was with her, he was with her - he didn’t want prying eyes or hollering from his team mates.
He just wanted her.
Joyce was the same, she didn’t need extravagant displays of affection or expensive dinners. She was content with the nights she’d sneak out of her bedroom to go make out in Hoppers truck along the skirts of Lovers Lake or hang out at the bar downtown. It was all they needed.
Tonight was much the same, Hopper was picking her up and taking her out to the local bar. They were having a seniors week which was a Hawkins tradition, the bar staff would turn their heads and not check ID’s in celebration for their upcoming graduation.
Joyce swiped the crimson colour on her bottom lip, then used her finger to distribute the product all over. She pulled back from the mirror and gave herself a quick once over - she wore a white flowy blouse tucked neatly into a long brown skirt, she’s added a leather belt that cinched her already small waist and threw on some white tennis shoes.
Her eyes drifted from her figure in the mirror to the small polaroid stuck in the corner. She smiles fondly at the image remembering the moment from their prom weeks before - Her mom had held the polaroid clumsily and pointed it at them but before giving them a chance to smile the flash was going off and the camera began printing. Joyce still loved the photo nonetheless, Jim looked so handsome in his sleek pinstripe suit, with his usually disheveled hair gelled and combed neatly. She loved the way the photo showed their height difference and how good they looked together. She blushes at the memory of Hopper gushing over her appearance, her shiny dark hair was perfectly styled and flipped flirtatiously at the ends, the deep v of her dress was sexy yet elegant and the contrasting dark colour made the milky white of her skin look delicious and bright.
She didn’t dress up often but she loved the effect it had on Hopper and tonight she felt it was a special occasion since graduation was looming and the festivities had begun. She was fixing her hair when she saw the flicker of headlights beam through her bedroom window.
Grabbing her purse, she shouts a loud goodbye towards her parents and pulls the front door closed behind her. Bounding towards Hoppers truck, she swings open the door and climbs in gracelessly.
“Hey!” Joyce greets, her mouth stretched wide.
Hopper has a sincere smile on his face but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.
“You’kay?” She questions softly, brow creasing
“Am now” Hopper mumbles as he leans forward and touches his lips against hers.
She expects it to be a chaste ‘hello’ kiss, but he presses forward desperately, his hands resting against her jaw. He holds her to him, moving his wanting mouth over hers slowly.
She feels his tongue press against the seam of her lips, begging for entry but Joyce pulls away and places two hands on his solid chest to stop him from chasing her.
“Hop, not here” She says breathy, knowing her parents are inside and could very easily take a peak out the window and see them.
He nods but doesn’t remove his hands from her jaw. His eyes still not quite gleaming with their usual sparkle.
“You sure you’re okay?” Joyce asks, more serious this time.
Hopper just replies with a swift nod and begins backing out of her driveway.
-
The Hideaway stunk of old beer, stale peanuts and cigarette smoke but it was alive with Hawkins Seniors, giddy and loud.
Hopper’s large hand dwarf Joyce’s, each digit pressed firmly into the back of her fist. She knows something has upset him but now that they’re in public she has no chance of finding out the source. On the car ride over she pressed him but he clearly didn’t want to talk about it, after a few failed attempts Hopper turned to her with glistening eyes and pleaded with her to drop it.
She felt her gut twist at the sight of his unshed tears and immediately stopped all prying attempts. However she made her assumptions and guessed it was about his Father. Jim never talks about his old man but he has mentioned to Joyce that his Dad doesn’t think highly of him. A ‘piece of shit’ were the cruel words she once heard his Father call him. She’s also aware the abuse doesn’t stop at verbal strikes, witnessing firsthand the bruises on his abdomen that were not from a rough football game.
Hopper is too proud to admit when he’s hurting and It’s amazing how quickly he changes in a group setting. Shouting loud jokes and hurling humorous comebacks like he wasn’t on the verge of tears minutes ago.
After an hour of pleasant hellos and general catch ups they settle into a booth with his more immediate friend group, she’s pressed between him and a girl named Karen. Joyce and Karen have known each other for a while, Karen was one of the first people in Hoppers group to introduce herself and actually make an effort.
“Can you believe it! Only one more week!” Karen exclaims
Joyce laughs politely and they begin talking about their future plans, it’s awkward because Joyce doesn’t have a clue what she’s going to do after High School but she doesn’t have to worry about it because Karen begins monologuing her entire 5 year plan. She nods along attentively until she feels Hoppers warm palm rest on her skirt covered knee.
She didn’t know what she wanted to do after High School but she did know that she wanted him in her life. He was her future.
He squeezes firmly and starts to run his hand up her thigh, bringing the fabric of her skirt with him.
Joyce nods more vigorously, trying to maintain eye contact with the woman in front of her and not her boyfriends wandering hands.
His hand inches closer towards her inner thigh and she reacts quickly by swinging her leg over the other in an attempt to cross them, trying to end Hopper’s pursuit. However as she does this her knee collides with the bottom of the wooden table causing a loud band and everyones drinks to rattle.
The table goes quiet at the sudden interruption and Hopper uses this as an out.
“I’m gonna get a refill, come with me” Hopper tells the group while leaning down to grab Joyce’s hand and drag her out of the booth.
She goes willingly, cheeks slightly blushed from the commotion she caused.
Jim drags her through the establishment, they bypass right past the bar and straight through towards a narrow hallway.
They reach a room at the end of the corridor that has a large poker table in the middle, it’s completely empty. Probably because high schoolers don’t really have the funds to be placing bets on a game of poker.
Hopper steps into the room and closes the door behind them, pulling a wooden chair away from the table and tucking it underneath the doorknob.
“Hop- we can’t, not here” Joyce says quickly, knowing exactly what he’s up to.
He stalks towards her and grips her waist with his large hands, lifting her effortlessly onto the scratchy green felt of the poker table.
“You look beautiful” He sighs into her shoulder “like always” punctuating his words with velvet pecks to her neck.
She parts her legs to allow him to stand between them.
Her eyes meet his and he’s got that look in them again, like he’s unsure of something, like he wants to tell her but he’s not able to piece together the words. The exact look mirrored from when he picked her up.
Joyce remains quiet, letting the silence fill the air hoping it entices a confession out of Hopper.
But nothing comes, he’s stood between her thighs with his hands still firmly grasped around her waist. Blue eyes boring into hers, saying so much without the use of words.
Suddenly Joyce feels anxious, Jim has never been a great communicator but usually she can read him. Not in this case, it’s like he was lost in his own eyes. Still inhabiting the body of Hopper but his mind was elsewhere.
He starts to tug her blouse out of her skirt, needy fingers clawing at the fabric. She lets him open her shirt and run his hands down her chest. He traces a fingertip from the bottom of her chin to the middle of her breasts, then follows along the cups. Returning to the middle he hooks his index finger in the front of her bra and pulls her forward. He leans down to place frantic bites along her shoulder and chest, stopping at the muscle that curves into her neck and sucking hard. His hands move to her front and yank down the cups of her bra, exposing her top half, he takes both her breasts in his hands and kneads roughly.
He continues his assault on her neck and Joyce lets out a long moan as he moves his hands over her.
He’s not gentle, his touches are needy, desperate and full of unsaid emotion. He’s taking what he needs and Joyce is letting him. If he won’t talk to her she’ll be there for him in anyway that she can.
He hikes up her skirt and slips her underwear down her legs, forcing an orgasm out of her with a rough hand. He undoes his pants and slips on a condom, joining their bodies, she twitches from overstimulation when he enters her but he doesn’t slow down. His pace is accelerated, pounding into her repeatedly, fingers sure to leave marks where he’s digging them into her sides.
“I love you” Hopper whispers, unable to make eye contact, his stare fixed to where their bodies are joined. “You know that right?” He says even softer. His tender words a drastic contrast to his movements.
“I know” Joyce says, wrapping her hand firmly around the back of his neck, trying to force his gaze to meet hers.
Their foreheads are pressed together but Hopper hides his eyes under tightly shut lids.
After a few more harsh thrusts Hopper finishes with a low grunt, his hands falling to either side of her hips, resting upon the poker table.
He’s head collapsed onto her shoulder and Joyce runs her hands along his broad back, up and down his spine while she places kind kisses to the side of his neck.
After a moment he pulls away, gaze still averted and begins getting dressed.
“We should get back” He mutters
They are a very physical couple, some girls their age felt pressured to be intimate with their boyfriends out of fear they would leave them but Joyce did’t feel that way. Firstly she’s never once felt pressure from Hopper to do anything she didn’t want to do and secondly she always wants to have sex with Hopper.
Everything about him she found sexy and that wasn’t limited to just his appearance. When she gets in his car and is encased by his scent she’s overcome with an urge to taste him. When their in class and he glances over at her with his dark blue eyes, flicking them down to her lips and then back up again - it drives her mad, she crosses her legs so tight, willing her mind to think about something else.
He took care of her, before, during and after sex. That may be why she enjoyed it so much, because she felt loved and safe with him. Unlike other girls who just felt used.
However right now she doesn’t feel great.
“Hop?” She calls tentatively, shaky fingers fastening the buttons of her blouse.
He doesn’t react, eyes focused down as he tightens his belt.
Joyce can feel her stomach grow heavy, hot tears pricking her eyes.
“Jim!” She says, angrily this time sliding off the poker table.
Hopper’s jaw clenches and he looks at her.
“I understand if you’re not ready to tell me what’s going on but please-“ Her voice breaks but she can’t help it.
Hopper’s face is overcome with panic as he realises he’s affecting her more than he thought.
“Oh god Joyce, please Joy” He strides quickly towards her, placing his large hands on either side of her face. “Joyce, please, please don’t cry. I didn’t- I-“ His thumbs swipe at the tears sliding down her cheeks.
He looks conflicted.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’ve been in my head all night. I just-“ He hesitates
-
Joyce doesn’t quite remember exactly what Hopper said, something about his Father asking about his plans after school and them getting into an argument.
The reason Joyce doesn’t remember- or doesn’t want to remember is because she feels like Hopper’s lying to her. He was agitated and desperate to get her to stop crying and what he said felt like a coverup.
The rest of the night was blurry, they left the poker room and continued drinking, she got home during the early hours of the morning and nursed a hangover all of Sunday.
Now it’s Monday and Hopper has football practice this morning so she rides her bike to school - she is thankful for the space.
She doesn’t see him until third period, she’s walking towards her usual desk next to him when he pulls her into his lap and places multiple quick kisses against her blushing cheek.
“I’ve missed you” He mumbles into her hair, one hand winding behind her back and the other across her lap, gripping the side of her thigh.
“I-“
“Mr Hopper, you are still a student for another week. I’m sure Miss Horowitz will be much more comfortable seated at her own desk” Ms Ratliff announces.
“Don’t bet on it!” One of Hopper’s football teammate shouts causing laughs to scatters through the classroom.
Joyce pushes herself off of his lap and into her own desk, trying to ignore how good his lingering hands felt on her hips.
The class droned on, Ms Ratliff not known to be one of the most exciting teachers. She was finalising their marks for an exam they did last week so there wasn’t much left in the syllabus to teach, but she didn’t let the students off that easy.
Joyce could feel Hopper’s eyes burning a hole through the side of her head, she didn’t want to look at him for too long, worried that a heavy feeling would overcome her and place doubts in her mind.
But she took a risk and tore her eyes away from the blackboard covered in Ms Ratliff’s messy scrawl towards his deep eyes.
She couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face at the vision in front of her. His body was almost completely turned towards hers, sitting twisted in the small chair. His elbow resting on top of his desk with his head cradled in his large hand, eyes radiant as he looked at her with adoration.
Maybe the alcohol had clouded her judgement on Saturday because not a single doubt creeps into her brain while she looks at him.
“Hi” he mouthes, no sound coming out.
“Hi” she mouthes back
He flicks his eyes down to her mouth and bites his bottom lip unknowingly.
She presses her thighs tightly together as he stares at her mouth.
The moment is broken suddenly as Joyce flinches and snaps her head to the front of the room. Ms Ratliff’s nails scraping down the blackboard as a broken piece of chalk falls to the ground.
She grumbles something angrily under her breath and picks up a new piece to continue her scribbles.
Joyce doesn’t turn her head again.
-
The final week of school moves quickly, the excitement and anticipation make the classes bearable and the hours tick swiftly.
Joyce felt silly for doubting Hopper and blamed her lapse in trust on the alcohol in her system. Hopper was still very much in love with her and she was very much in love with him.
It was their final day, they had one more period but both decided to skip it and meet behind the canteen to smoke. Joyce was almost sentimental at the idea of this being the last time they could potentially get caught sharing a cigarette.
She rounded the corner of the large red brick building and found Hopper leaning against the wall. Joyce walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing her ear against his chest in search of his steady heartbeat.
“Hey, you okay?” Hopper asks, a slight chuckle in his voice.
“I can’t believe this is the last time we might get caught smoking together” Joyce mumbles and she can feel his middle shake lightly with laughter.
Pulling off of him and joining his side she rests her head against his strong arm. Hopper lights up a camel and takes a few puffs before handing it to Joyce.
They smoke the first cigarette in silence, absorbing the moment and enjoying each other’s presence.
Hopper drops the butt to the ground and crushes it beneath his foot, Joyce makes a move to grab another one out of his pocket but he catches her wrist before she can.
“What, you don’t wanna share?” Joyce teases.
His eyes darken and the grip on her wrist grows tighter, Joyce gulps in anticipation.
Hopper looms over her, backing her firmly up against the brick wall, pressing himself against her. He dips his head and leaves his mouth mere millimetres away, lingering over hers, the smell of cigarettes overwhelming her. She closes the gap between them and pushes her desperate mouth against his, gripping the collar of his jacket to pull him closer.
Hopper runs his hands down her sides to the back of her thighs, lifting her easily. She instinctively wraps her legs around his waist and he presses even closer. Joyce sucks his tongue into her mouth, revelling in the taste of him. She can feel his arousal pressed against her and she moans loudly as he bears his hips hard against hers.
“Jim, I need you” Joyce whines
Hopper attaches his mouth to her pulse and hums in agreement.
“You car- let’s go to your car” Joyce suggests breathily
He reluctantly stops his attack on her throat and stares into her dark doe eyes, blown wide from arousal.
He nods and puts her down gently.
They start walking towards the parking lot when Joyce makes a move for another cigarette, slipping her hand into his pocket for the packet of camels, she pulls out a folded piece of paper instead.
Hopper hasn’t noticed and is still walking in front of her when Joyce says “What’s this?”
He halts abruptly.
She hasn’t opened it but has a curious look on her face, brows raised. “A love note to yours truly perhaps?” She teases “Maybe a glowing report card, maybe it’s a-“ she stops, Hopper’s face must have dropped because Joyce’s face is suddenly overcome with concern.
“W- What is this?” She asks again, this time her voice quiet and laced with distress.
Hopper remains silent.
She makes a move to open it, hesitating to see if he will stop her. He doesn’t.
Joyce scans the letter quickly, each line her heart sinks further and further.
You are hearby ordered for induction into the Armed Forces of the United States…
Bring enough clean clothes for 3 days…
Bring enough money to last 1 month of personal purchases…
Wilful failure to report at the place and hour of the day named in this Order subjects the violator to fine and imprisonment…
Confusion is written all over her features, tears burn the back of her eyes and her heart beats rapidly. “Wha- I don’t understand” she stutters.
Hopper still hasn’t said a word
“Hopper! What does this mean?” Joyce shouts
“You know what it means” Hopper replies, voice steady.
Joyce feels herself overcome with emotion, the date ordered is in two days time, she’s grasping at straws “It says you might not be found qualified for induction-“
“Joyce, I’m 18, I’m going to be inducted”
He’s being cold and she doesn’t understand.
“What does this mean? When will you be back?”
He shakes he’s head “Joyce, you don’t get it! I’m gone, this is it for me! My future isn’t guaranteed” he’s voice is angry
She can no longer fight the tears and they begin spilling down her cheeks “What about us? What about me?”
He rubs a hand down his face “I don’t-“ he starts
“I’ll wait” She walks towards him, trying to close the distance he’s put between them, “For you, I’ll be here waiting when you get back” She goes to reach for his hand but he pulls away
“Don’t”
She feels the air leave her lungs “Wha-“
“Don’t wait for me. I’ve had a week to think about this and-“
“What?” Joyce’s voice has turned angry “You’ve known about this for a week”
She was beginning to feel her blood boil, the emotions becoming too much. First it was the thought of losing Hopper forever, she didn’t know what her future held but she knew it was okay because he would be there. He was her future. Secondly he doesn’t want her to wait for him - the meaning of that hurts the most, he doesn’t want her. After it’s all done he doesn’t want her. Lastly the betrayal, he’s kept this from her, she tried to talk to him about it but he shrugged it off like it was nothing, like this life altering fact was no big deal. Like her feelings on the matter didn’t count.
“Jim!” She shouts, the reality of everything crashing down on her. She shoves his chest aggressively “You’ve known about this for a week and you haven’t told me! You just thought you’d leave in two days time and I wouldn’t notice? You thought you could get one more quick fuck in before you left?”
“Joyce you know that’s not-“
“Oh do I? Do I know that’s not what you planned? How the fuck would I know that Jim! You haven’t told me! I asked, I knew something was wrong and you just made me think it was nothing!”
“Because I didn’t want to believe it Joyce!” He screams “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, when I met you I wasn’t scared of my future anymore because as long as you were there it didn’t matter!” He pauses, the vein in his forehead pulsating “But then I got that fucking letter and it ruined everything, I just wanted one more week before everything changed”
“That’s so fucking selfish Jim! I don’t get a say in any of this? You get to enjoy one last week and then you just leave me?” She gets close to his face, pushing up on her toes and jabbing a finger into his chest.
“That’s not what I was going to do-“ His feature have turned soft, defeated.
“Oh really? What was the plan then Jim? Huh?” Her wild eyes flick between his.
They’re stood in front of each other, Joyce’s chest rising and falling quickly.
“I-“ Hopper’s words are cut off by the sound of the final school bell ringing. Students come running out of the building screaming and shouting with glee.
A memory that is suppose to be one of the most joyous moments in their lives tainted by anger and betrayal.
Joyce looks at him, really looks at him.
And then turns to walk away, each step she takes she expects a warm hand to grab her, to stop her leaving but as she gets further away she realises that it’s not going to happen.
-
She doesn’t know when the tears ceased and sleep overtook her but the sound of deep voices rouse her from her sleep.
“Please I just need to see her” Hopper begs
“Son, she’s finally asleep and she’s very hurt”
“Sir, I’m begging you” She can hear the pain in his voice and the vulnerability he works so hard to hide.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that” Joyce can hear her Father take a deep breath “Listen James, we’re proud of you for serving your country and she’ll be here if you come back, okay?”
If
If he came back
That was like a blow to her stomach.
She misses the end of their conversation but she hears the front door close and the sound of Hoppers tires leaving her driveway.
The tears begin again and this time sleep never comes.
-
She hear’s her Father and Hopper having the same conversation the next night but she’s not sure if she is imagining it.
She hasn’t left her bed since she arrived home from school.
Her hair was tangled, the skin around her eyes was sore and swollen, the floral pillowcase she rested her head on was heavily stained with her tears. While all her other peers hadn’t stopped partying since their last day, she hadn’t stopped crying.
-
The sunlight was creeping through the curtains in her bedroom however she was sure she closed them. Joyce feels the bed dip slightly and manages to will her eyes open to see her Mother sitting at the end of her bed.
“Honey?” Mrs Horowitz tries gently
Joyce doesn’t respond but her Mother knows she’s heard her.
“I know you’re hurting but I think you should see him before he leaves”
The words rip through her like a knife opening a fresh wound.
“He left this for you” Mrs Horowitz places a small envelope on her nightstand and leaves the bedroom quietly.
-
She can feel her lungs burning as she sprints towards the platform, her muscles are sore from not being used over the last couple of days, the stiffness in her knees sending shockwaves up her legs. Her sneakers pound rhythmically on the pavement.
She’s got his letter gripped tightly in her fist and she checks the platform number again. She’s stood under the large number 17, just as it’s written in his note. Whipping her head around she searches for him amongst the crowd, her breath is ragged and there’s a loud thumping in her head.
“Last train! Last train! Boarding now from platform 17” She hears the conductor call out.
The last train. His train.
People start pushing past her to get to the carriages. She’s getting knocked from each side, her height hindering her ability to look over the top of the crowd in search for him. A young man around her age walks straight past and bashes his duffle bag into her, forcing her to stumble backwards.
She feels a strong, familiar hand wrap around her bicep to catch her “Hey! Watch where ya going!” The recognisable voice shouts.
She stands up straight and brings her eyes up to meet his.
“You came” his voice breaks
She’s still hurt, still angry but she’s not stupid enough to let him go to a war zone without saying goodbye.
She nods slowly and notices his hand is still gripped firmly around her arm, she doesn’t try to shrug him off.
“I got your letter” She replies
His letter was an outpouring of love and regret, he begged for her forgiveness and to allow him to see her one last time.
“Final call! Last train leaving from platform 17!” The conductor shouts again.
“You should go” Joyce says, tears filling her eyes
There’s not much left to say, everything he wanted to tell her was in his letter.
The words he scratched onto paper flash through her mind.
I will always love you, but I can’t ask you to wait for me.
I wish I had told you when I received the letter, I tried to change our ending.. but in the end I’m still losing you.
You deserve the world Joyce and I can’t give you that.
Now I’m leaving, running away from you and the future I so badly want, because I feel the need to prove to my Father I’m not the piece of shit he thinks I am.
You’re my favourite. Everything...
She’s pulled from her thoughts as he leans down towards her, she can feel his breath against her skin and every fibre of her being is aching for him.
He grazes his soft lips against her cheek bone, kissing away the escaped tear that has tracked its way down her face. Joyce’s eyes slip shut, the tenderness of this moment paralysing her. He holds his lips against her, Joyce feels as if her skin is being wounded, like he’s leaving a tattoo, a mark on her so deep she’d never be able to rid herself of it.
She’s overwhelmed by the scent of him enveloping her - camel cigarette smoke, mixed with his laundry detergent and something so him. She basks in his essence, not knowing when or if she’ll ever get the chance to again.
He pulls back, his own face now damped with tears, his lip quivering slightly. He throws his duffle over his shoulder and turns away from her, walking towards the carriage without another word.
She’s left on the platform with hundreds of other family members waving off their loved ones, he steps onto the train and doesn’t look back.
The sobs begin to wrack her body.
The train pulls out of the station and moves along the tracks, the platform begins to clear but Joyce remains frozen in place, lungs heaving, hands shaking and long whimper being pulled from deep within her chest.
-
That was the last time she saw him.
Joyce was filled with heartbreak when he left, her days blurred together and she struggled mentally. Her heartbreak eventually turned into anger, he’d made this decision to leave her and she was the one that had to deal with the consequences.
He’d left his mark on her like a blood stain on a perfect piece of clothing, he ruined it. Ruined her and ruined so many of her favourite things.
She cursed him when she had to give up smoking because the smell of smoke would hang around and linger in the air and she’d be flooded with memories.
She cursed him when she realised she couldn’t go into the Hideaway without thinking about their night in the poker room.
She cursed him when she’d drive past lovers lake and feel her cheeks grow hot.
And she will curse him forever because no man will ever make her feel the way he did.
It’s been four years since she said goodbye to him on that platform but she thought about him more than a married woman should think about an ex. Sometimes she would even think she’s seen him but the tall shadow in the grocery line at Melvald’s was not him, the young man in a plaid shirt smoking a camel was not him, the man pulling up in a pickup truck was not him.
She found herself often having to pull herself out of these rabbit holes, had to remind herself that he had left her life and made his choice.
But it didn’t stop the wondering.
When her husband would touch her, she’d be haunted by what-ifs, what if it was his hand instead of her husbands, what if it was his lips instead of her husbands, what if it was his son instead of her husbands-
She hated that she thought like this, but most of the time she was unconsciously thinking of him, it was like he haunted her.
Tonight would be okay because she was meeting Karen and she usually kept Joyce’s mind occupied for the time being. Karen always knew the town gossip and latest trends, she was also grateful to have another Mother to relate to.
Her boy Johnathan and Karens daughter Nancy were only a few months apart and Joyce revelled in the time they spent together because watching her boy experience life was something she’d never tire of.
She sat on the spongy sofa and watched the infants share a wooden truck, they would push the toy along the carpet and then crawl clumsily after it. Karen comes into the room with a glass in each hand, she’s careful to avoid the crawling babies and joins Joyce on the lounge.
Passing one of the glasses to Joyce she begins rehashing all the latest news she’s heard this week.
Joyce nods along, sipping her wine contently when she almost chokes at the mention of a name that just left Karens lips.
“Woah- Karen, what? Who?”
Karen looks stunned at the interruption “Uh- Mr Hopper, I don’t know his first name, he’s not really a stand out guy in the community you know he-“
“Karen!” Joyce stops her rambling “You mean Jim Hopper’s Father?”
“Yeah, Jim Hopper’s Dad died this week, I think it was cancer, but I’m not sure…” Karen kept talking but there was a high pitch noise starting to ring in Joyce’s ears.
“It could of been pneumonia-“
“Is Jim coming back?” Joyce cuts off Karen again
There’s a long silence as Karen hesitates.
“Uhh Joyce” she falters, avoiding Joyce’s wide gaze.
“What?” She snaps, trying to urge Karen on
“He- uh- He’s been back for a few days, spent the last couple with him in the hospital”
Joyce starts to see spots, the blood rushing in her ears grows louder and she hastily places her class on the coffee table.
“I’m sorry, I thought you knew”
“I- uh- I have to go, I’m sorry” Joyce jumps up from the couch and scoops up Johnathan.
Karen follows her closely, picking up Nancy as she catches up with Joyce at her car.
She straps Johnathan safety in his car seat, triple checking the buckles out of habit,
“Joyce, if you need to talk, just call me okay?” Karen offers, bouncing Nancy on her hip while she stands in the drive way and talks to Joyce through the car window.
Joyce extends a short nod in her direction and pulls out of the driveway.
She doesn’t drive fast, she’s not stupid. Johnathan is in the car and it’s dark.
She does however put all the windows down and lets the cool air whip against her face, needing something physical to keep her grounded.
Turning into her driveway she notices the front porch light is on, turning her head towards Lonnies car bay she find it empty, knowing he’s out drinking at the Hideaway like he does every night.
The light illuminates a tall shadow.
She gets out of the car, leaving Johnathan fast asleep in his car seat.
The gravel beneath her feet crunches under each step she takes.
The shadow turns slowly towards her and she stops.
“Joyce” She recognises the voice, however it sounds different it’s deeper and huskier than she remembers.
“Jim?”