I need to fix it.
ButI don’t.
I can’t.
Best thing I can do is to not be the person making her bad day worse.
I reach for the door handle to let myself out. “Relatable. Hope it gets better.”
“Thank you. I hope—I hope you don’t have to be on crutches long.”
I grunt.
She sighs.
And if that doesn’t say it all, I don’t know what does.
11
Ziggy
I’d askthe universe why today’s the day that morning sickness has to make a resurgence, but I already know the answer to why.
I have to tell my parents about Abby Nora, and I don’t want to.
But instead of sucking it up and going to see them, I’m hunched over the toilet while Jessica whimpers beside me. My stomach has had it, and I’m paying the price.
“How am I supposed to tell them I don’t want to think about her ever again in my life?” I ask Jessica once I’ve given all I have to give to the porcelain gods.
I’m sweating and shaky and my stomach still hurts.
She grunt-snuffles and creeps closer, putting her big, broad head onto my leg.
“And do you know what’s making it worse?”
She grunt-snuffles again like she’s telling me to go on.
“I’m terrified to make more new friends because I’m afraid it’ll end and I’ll hurt all over again.”
Swear the dog grunts in agreement.
I stroke her head. “Your owner died. They still wanted you, I promise. And you have a good home here.”
She wags her cute little tail.
“That’s right. You know it, even when you’re drooling and throwing doggie snot on people.”
She grins at me.
I’d laugh at her unashamed confession that she does it on purpose, but I still feel too crappy.
So instead, I sigh and let my head drop back against the wall.
I could see myself being friends with Holt if I trusted myself to have friends.
The world looks different once people you love have torn you to pieces.
When they leave you with a bottomless hole in your heart that your family and a new baby and a dog can’t fill because they’re not shaped the same.
