“Sorry. We put Avery’s costume on, and she’s giggling over her reflection,” Jade tells me. She laughs, her joy blending with Avery’s. “You’re going to die when you see her.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait.”
“So, I’ll see you in a bit?”
“I’m on my way.” I hang up, and my body feels like it’s on autopilot. My thoughts are an entire step behind me as I get out of my car once I pull to a stop in front of Jade’s house. My feet drag like a set of shackles are looped around my ankles. With my costume in a wrinkled Nordstrom’s shopping bag, I knock on Jade’s door.
“Hey!” Jade’s bubbly greeting is like a ray of sunshine beaming down on the storm cloud hanging above my head, but I force a smile.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s fine,” she assures. I walk through the door, getting a quick glimpse of her mouse costume. “Just change into your costume in the bathroom.”
“I’ll be quick,” I tell her.
I beeline for the bathroom through her kitchen. The mirror in her small one-and-a-half bath leaves me more disheartened than I already was. I’m looking at the culprit for my ruined relationship, and all I want to do is scold at my own reflection. My own self-destructive behavior led to me hurting someone I care about. And all I can do is call myself a coward instead of owning up to my mistake. I should be with Andrew. I should talk to him and tell him how I’m scared. How, in the biggest plot twist I didn’t even expect, I’m realizing the possibility of another failed relationship is my biggest fear. I guess I should’vebeen looking in this very mirror when I called him out on his supposed commitment issues.
I change, tucking away my self-wallowing for later. My effortless witch costume isn’t anything show-stopping. Buster’s bumblebee costume on the other hand, definitely show-stopping. The thought of Andrew and Buster’s sweet picture in my phone makes me miss him to the point that it becomes painful. With a glum mood added to my otherwise fun little get-up, I walk out of the bathroom to find Jade, Trevor, and Avery waiting for me by the door.
“Ready?” Jade asks, her camera in her hand.
I nod with a tight-lipped smile, adjusting the antennae on my head. “Yep.”
Jade leaves out a large bowl full of candy at the front door while Trevor snaps Avery into her stroller. Jade has a small orange jack-o’-lantern bucket swinging from her hands, and next thing I know, it’s already halfway full. By the time we’ve made two left turns and a right into a part of her neighborhood I’ve never seen, our steps are moving at a more listless pace.
“Is everything okay?”
I keep my head ducked, my eyes aimlessly counting the cracks in the sidewalk. I’ve gotten up to thirty-eight. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
Avery wails from her stroller. Her tight fists jut out to the sides, waving them in distress. Jade’s concerned question fades into the background of little Avery’s sudden outburst. It’s a welcomed interruption. The perfect diversion to avoid Jade’s probing inquiry.
“I think Avery’s about finished,” Jade tells Trevor. She unbuckles Avery and hoists her up in her arms. I take over stroller duty, and we veer back home. Thankfully—though Jade would probably disagree—Avery’s fussing doesn’t stop. Trevor attempts some distraction technique with a little tickling andraspberries blown into her bulbous cheek, but it only spurs her tantrum. The bucket of Halloween candy sits where Avery sat, and as soon as we walk through the front door, I help myself to a Snickers bar. And not a measly miniature size, but a full-sized candy bar. If only adult trick-or-treating wasn’t frowned upon.
I’m almost done with my Snickers when Jade reappears from getting Avery settled.
“That was fast,” I comment, the last bite pushed aside to one cheek.
“Trevor has her,” she explains. She opens a pizza box sitting on the kitchen island and offers it to me. “You hungry?”
I shake my head. Candy looks a hundred times more appealing to me right now. “I think I’m going to head out,” I announce.
“Already?”
“That car trouble just drained the energy out of me,” I admit. It’s not even a lie. Between the turn of events and Andrew storming off, all I want to do is climb under my covers and hide there for the rest of the weekend.
I reach for my purse and walk to the door before Jade can stop me and ask me once more if I’m okay. Because if she asks me again, I might fall into a puddle of tears.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Andrew
When things fall apart,I think we naturally expect it to be loud. Like a building crumbling to the ground or a tornado ripping through a small town, leaving behind a pile of rubble and demise. But when I walk through my apartment after leaving Grace—my own personal affliction—it’s quiet. Almost too quiet. I didn’t pick up the stupid smoothie order. The one with specific instructions to transport the drinks with a bag of ice so the smoothies stay cool and fresh. It’ll probably leave me with a bad review, bringing down my rolling average a few points. But who gives a shit.
I guess I expected a little more noise when I got home. Not necessarily calamity, but something. Maybe Grace waiting at my door, somehow beating me back to my place. But instead, I’m greeted by my quiet apartment. It’s dark and still, showing no life. No girlfriend hiding in the corners, waiting to pop out and surprise me. Even tell me it was all some stupid prank. Her part of a variety show to earn herself a thousand-dollar prize or something equally petty. And as I walk through my apartment, slowly picking up the clutter from my day, a hopeful part of me anticipates more. A soft knock on my door with Grace on the other side. A cautious text message asking if we can talk. Eventhe quiet buzz of my phone with Grace’s face lit up on the screen. That hope starts to feel like an itch. One I can’t seem to smother no matter how many distractions I give myself.
Does she not care about us? Do I mean nothing to her? What if all of this was just a game for her? She’s said herself she’s looking for someone to settle down with. Someone to start a family with. And I was just someone to keep her distracted and happy until the right person came along. Because that right person can’t be me. Unemployed, still trying to figure out what I want to do with my life, essentially about to be homeless with the last of my savings being spent on this month’s rent. How can I be someone she views as a life partner? My mind spirals, jumping to odd conclusions and convincing myself that this is the end. Grace doesn’t want people to know about us. That’s the bottom line. Maybe she’s ashamed of me, or some other relationship-related woe that makes her think people knowing about us would be the mistake of the century. Maybe this is the best for us. This fateful incident decided for us, and now there’s no need to tell anyone about anything. Grace can move on, find someone worth introducing to her family and friends, and I can just slip out of the picture. It’ll be like we never existed.
