I stand to leave, but he rises, grabbing my hand hauling me to him. I put a flattened palm to his chest, keeping distance between us.
“Josie, you’re crazy if you think I’m going anywhere. Whenever your grandmother gets discharged, I’ll be right here waiting. I’ll drive you both back to Singing River. Lisa and Penny have the kids handled, and I’ve got you. Okay? Let me catch you. When you’ve had some sleep, can we talk about this?”
I don’t trust myself to speak. Fighting back tears, I nod and hurriedly leave the room. When I get back to my grandmother’s room, I quietly enter, seeing that she’s still asleep. Lowering back to the recliner, I bury my face in my hands to steady my ragged breaths.
What a mess I am. The most perfect man to ever walk this earth wants to be part of my life, and I’m telling him no. But this is the right move, as much as my heart breaks at the thought.
I stayed all night in the waiting room, exactly like I said I would. This morning, with her grandmother’s CT scan clear, she was discharged and I drove them back to Singing River. Jo introduced me as her friend and her grandmother didn’t question it. Throughout the drive, Jo and her Mawmaw chatted the entire time, Jo playing along with a very confusing conversation. Her grandmother referred to her as Evelyn, while Jo called her grandmother Martha. Each time I chanced a glance her way, her eyes were laced with pain, but she put on a smile for their conversation.
The only moment of lucidity for her grandmother happened right as we guided her to the chair by the window in her room. She looked up at me with the oddest expression, almost like she knew me, recognized me, though we’ve never met.
The minute Josie’s grandmother was safely in her room, I handed Josie her car keys and made the walk back to my apartment. I considered calling Austin for a ride, but I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. The biting cold burned my cheeks, but I kept up my pace, on a mission to get back to those letters. I get that she has trust issues, but is there something more that I’m missing?
The shoebox was all I could think about the whole walk and as soon as I unlocked the door my eyes zeroed in on where it sat on the coffee table. Each day here I’ve read a letter or two, taking them slow to savor her words.
I begin where I left off, scanning several quickly, looking for answers. When I get to the last few in the box, I read the words on the pages and things begin to make sense.
Tyler,
I’m pregnant with my second child. It’s a boy. Everything about this pregnancy is different, from my cravings to my hormones. I’ve been married a year now, and things are fine. Not always great, but good enough. Chad works a lot, which means Abby and I are alone a lot. I see so much of you in her now. She’s more serious than other kids her age. She’s also the most helpful little girl I’ve ever met, offering to fix me a sandwich when my back hurts, or rub my feet when she notices how swollen they’re getting. She also looks just like you. Chestnut hair and eyes twins to yours. I so wish you could meet her.
Josie
Tyler,
My son, Jay, is now two months old. He looks like me, with curly blond hair. He’s a much easier baby than Abby was, which should mean life is pretty great, right? But all I do is cry. Someone can compliment my shoes, and I cry. Yesterday, Iwas picking Jay up from my grandparents’ house after work and when Mawmaw told me he was a good eater, I cried. But I also cry because while, yes, I have a husband, a provider, I feel so alone. And the worst part of all? On my very bad days, I wonder if I settled. Jay is the only positive thing to come from my marriage. Chad doesn’t understand my emotions, even having the nerve to roll his eyes at me a few times, telling me I’m being dramatic. And can I tell you a secret? Most days, I don’t even think I love Chad anymore. I had my first appointment with a therapist last week and she said I have postpartum depression and started me on an anti-depressant. But there’s a lingering thought in the back of my mind that some of these thoughts aren’t due to depression, instead, the depression has given me courage to think them. I don’t know. I truly hope the universe is treating you better than it’s treating me.
Josie
The next letter I find is ripped in half, then taped back together, and looks like it was crumpled and then flattened back out.
Tyler,
This might be the last letter I write. Keeping this tether to you only makes my heart ache. I know I’ve said this in previous letters, but Chad works out of town, and I feel so damn alone raising these two kids. When he’s home, he hardly looks at me, never touches me. He certainly doesn’t help with the kids. We are nothing more than an obligation to him. I can only say this on paper, never aloud, but at times I think to myself, I’d rather do this completely alone than in our current state. I am not happy. Not even a little bit. Anyway, I still think of you and hope you’re doing well.
Josie
P.S. This will definitely be my last letter. Stupid, stupid me left it lying on the bed, and Chad found it. I grabbed it from him before he could read too far down the page, but still, it’s the worst fight we’ve ever had. I tried explaining to him that these letters are more like a journal than anything, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that I address them all to you.
I miss you, Tyler. I knew you for one night but I’ve never stopped missing you. At this point, I don’t even know if I miss you or the idea of you, but either way, I do so quietly, never uttering your name to a soul. What the hell is wrong withme? I can’t keep torturing myself like this while my marriage is also falling apart. If Chad and I don’t make it, I don’t think I’ll go looking for love again. I can’t risk it. So with tears trickling down my face, I’m writing my last words to you.
I’m re-reading the last letter for at least the fifth time, but finally I fold it back into thirds, and place it in its spot at the bottom of the stack, carefully tying the purple ribbon around them. And fuck, I feel devastated for the person Josie was when she wrote these words. Being kind when she cries is the bare fucking minimum he could have done, not an eye roll or a scoff. No wonder she feels like she’s too much. All those years, was she in a loveless marriage, thinking of me as often as I thought of her? What can I do to earn her trust? Logically, I know this takes time, but after being without Josie for so long, it’s hard not to want everything at once.
Leaning my back against the couch, I wrack my brain for a plan, coming up empty. I slide my phone from my back pocket, swiping to Kate’s contact, who answers on the first ring.
“Any news?” I ask as soon as she’s answered.
“Not enough on the principal to report. I’m following a lead, but keep hitting dead ends.”
I release a sigh.
“But I do have good news. Chad was easy to find.”
Kate gives me an address and I grab a pen and paper to jot it down.
“What does he do for work?” I ask.
“Let me see…” I hear papers shuffling.
