THE FOLLOWINGmorning was just that. A morning. Just a day like any other. Which made it all that much worse.
We woke up. Noah was a little gentler with me than normal, and careful to avoid bringing up the changes in my world. We made breakfast, walked the dogs, and he went off to work.
I made certain my camera batteries were charged and cleaned lenses in preparation for a photo shoot later in the afternoon. I exchanged confirmation e-mails with the client and attached the directions to the site we’d agreed on.
Following my agent’s directives, I made a couple of changes to the website and worked on a promotional e-mail advertising an upcoming holiday special.
I took Harper and the boys on a second walk.
Everything was normal. And it was agonizing.
Everything was normal. Except for what wasn’t.
There would be no text from Kayla. No spur-of-the-moment lunch gossip fest. There would be no cute videotexts from Bailey.
Everything was normal. Except for a gaping hole in my chest.
WITH Acouple of hours to spare before the photo shoot, I went to a coffee shop. I started to go to my favorite one, the place Kayla and I often met up, but decided it would be a good idea to change it up. I wasn’t sure which would be more painful: favorite coffee shop without my best friend or a completely unfamiliar location. At least at the new place, I’d blend in and wouldn’t run the risk of anyone asking questions.
I knew that was a stupid concern. I wasn’t the center of the world. People weren’t talking about me or trying to snap undercover pictures of me with their cell. I wasn’t Kim Kardashian’s ass. Still, as low as the chances were someone would say anything, it was more likely at one of my normal haunts.
Settling down into a new corner table in a new Cap Hill coffee shop, I plugged in my laptop and sipped my chai as it powered up.
After typing in my password, the image of Bailey in Pioneer Square filled my screen. I forgot I’d used it as the background.
My breath caught and my eyes stung.
Letting out a shaking breath, I clicked into Settings and chose a generic background. A huge green leaf with a raindrop rolling down its center vein.
I couldn’t click Apply.
Just couldn’t do it.
It was bad enough. I couldn’t cover up Bailey with a fucking leaf. Better to leave the picture, even if it brought on a near meltdown every time I opened the laptop.
I stared at her profile. The innocent expression as she offered the dragon-clad Harper to the woman. The long fall of her hair glistening in the afternoon light.
Did she know she wasn’t allowed to see her uncle?
Had her dad told her I was no longer a part of the family?
Maybe Kayla had gotten to her first. Broken the news in a gentle way, maybe with a tinge of hope.
Had she already cried? Realized she had been abandoned?
Maybe she had no idea. Not yet. Maybe the pain was coming for her later.
I heard Noah asking me if he was in danger of losing me. If Bailey didn’t know yet, maybe it wasn’t too late. I could change my mind.
Right. The deadline had passed.
There was no going back.
When a tear fell on the keyboard, I forced myself to click on the Photoshop icon. The program opened, covering the magic of Bailey.
I opened the small file of pictures I took of Noah and me. Most of those I hadn’t edited at all. They didn’t need it. They were snapshots of memories, not art. Still, I had to do something. And if anything was going to keep me from crying and becoming a bigger mess than I already was before the photo shoot, it was Noah.
Several photos later, I wasn’t sure what I’d done. I’d brightened, corrected tone, and hidden blemishes without any actual thought. I might return to the photos later and be horrified at the shoddy work. Not that it mattered. Just as long as I kept hold of the small amount of sanity I had left.
