Free A Different Kind of Beauty by Alyssa Cooper

A Different Kind of  Beauty
     
    by
    Alyssa Cooper
     
    Kindle Edition
     
    Copyright 2013 Alyssa Cooper
     
    Published by: Fiction Lake Online Publishing
    www.FictionLake.com
     
     
    Kindle Edition License Notes
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    A Different Kind of Beauty
    I stop at Jesse's apartment on my way to work, the way that I do almost every day. The superintendent is putting a new lock one of the mailboxes behind the door, and he waves at me as I let myself inside. He doesn’t try to stop me; he knows me well by now. He checks in on Jesse on the days that I don't visit. We don't speak of it, but I'm sure he’s aware of the peace of mind he offers me.
    I smile at him as the door swings shut behind me, and he straightens, reaching to work a knot out of the small of his back. I ask, "How's Sandy?" without slowing my steps, and he gives an affectionate grin; he loves his wife desperately
    "Oh, you know," he says in a big booming voice without commitment, and I wave goodbye as I start up the stairs. It's an old building. There are no elevators. He only lives on the third floor, though.  I got used to the steps a long time ago.
    When I reach the top of the stairs, a do g down the hall starts to bark. I knock on the door. "Jesse?" I try to be quiet, because I know that Mrs. Kelly, in the apartment next to his, likes to sleep late. Even in the midst of my concern, I wonder why I bother; the yapping of the mutt reverberating through her walls has surely already roused her. I knock again, but he doesn't answer.
    My first thought is that he's ignoring me, like he has done so many times before.
    My second thought is that he is dead; he died in the night and I wasn't here. I can already see him in my mind, pale and still on the floor, dark blood dried around his mouth like sick red lipstick.
    I rearrange the grocery bags in my arms, and dig in my purse with one hand for the key he gave me. I push aside lip balm, spare change, and a stick of gum, but I can't find it. I hug the groceries tight, feeling the cold press of a milk carton against my chest.
    "Jesse!" My voice is like a cry as I knock harder, faster.
    I finally hear his clumsy steps as they come closer, moving very slowly, and knowing he is there sends relief coursing through me so potent my hands begin to shake. I drag in a deep breath and sigh heavily. I work to slow my racing heart as I wait,  and when he finally opens the door, I am struck by his shattered beauty the way that I have been countless times before.
    His dark hair is held back from his face in a loose elastic. His hazel eyes are bloodshot, and there are dark, sleepless circles under them. I take in his delicate cheekbones and the hollows beneath, his long nose, crooked and strange from being broken more than once. There is vomit crusted at the corners of his lips, but he smiles when he sees me. He has pulled on a dark blue robe, and under it I can see a narrow stripe of his pale, boney chest. It is hard for me to see him the way he is now. Every changed detail reminds me of how perfect he was when we were young.
    "Lindsay," he says, and his voice is hoarse. He reaches the bags in my arms, but I won't let him take them. "Can I help?" he asks, but I shake my head as I step past him, making my way to the tiny kitchen. Dropping the grocery bags on the counter, I toss my purse onto the table and drape my jacket over the back of a chair; I am comfortable here. It's where I spend most of my time; my own apartment is barren and alone a few blocks away. Jesse doesn't visit. He waits.
    As he shuffles