I grab my phone off my nightstand and navigate to my messages, clicking on Shannon’s name.
I begin typing.
Me: Hey, Shannon. How are you?
As if she were right beside her phone, the little dots appear instantly.
Shannon: Hi, Addison. Sorry to contact you so out of the blue. I’m having a blanket made from Warren’s old concert shirts and wondered if you had any? My mom can’t find them.
Oh. My heart thumps. Warren’s prized concert shirts. It had taken me months to convince him to let me sleep in them.
Me: There are some in a box in storage. The operator keeps a master key. I’ll email him and tell him to expect you.
Shannon: I appreciate it, Addison. Really.
Me: How is Warren?
Shannon: How do you think?
My chest tightens. She always was on the sarcastic side, but for two seconds can’t she just be some semblance of cordial? My phone buzzes again.
Shannon: Are you still at your grandma’s?
Me: Yes. It’s going well.
Shannon: Are you planning on coming back here?
Me: Maybe at some point.
I’m vague on purpose. I’ll have to go back some time, if only to deal with the things I have in storage.
Shannon: Are you making a life for yourself there?
I blink, unsure of how to respond.
Me: I’m trying to. I have to move on.
Shannon: Is there someone you’re moving on with?
There’s no way I’m telling her about Brady.
Me: Life is still very confusing and I’m making the best of a horrible situation. Let me know if the storage operator gives you any trouble. I’ll send you his contact info.
Shannon: Thanks.
I pull up the operator’s information and send it to Shannon, then turn my phone face down on the nightstand and bury my head in the pillow. I feel sick inside.
The night it all happened comes back to me, only this time I’m seeing it differently. I’m going to bed with Warren, choosing to lie beside him and read a book. I’m there when it happens, this stroke the doctors say he had. I call for help, and they get to him in time. I save him.
I cry into my pillow, knowing this alternate reality can never exist.
The really horrible part of this is how much I want Brady to comfort me right now. I want him to hold me while I cry for someone else. How can that be?
I get out of bed and change my clothes, then brush my hair and teeth. I’ll catch Brady at breakfast, and then maybe we can take a walk and I can tell him about my text exchange with Shannon.
* * *
Brady didn’t cometo breakfast at the main house.
