“Come on, Doc. I’d better get you home.” My hand is in hers as I weave us through the people who’ve started to gather through the night. She doesn’t pull away, and when the outside wind snaps at my nose, Daniel rushes out of the driver’s seat and quickly opens the back doors to the city car.
This is me in a sober state compared to how he’s found me this past year.
The door slams closed, leaving us in the warmth of the back seat. I sigh, resting my head against the headrest. Rum lingers in the back of my throat like stained timber, but I close my eyes and say the first words that come to me.
“I’ll never love again.”
The doc doesn’t respond.
“And I think this is a good thing,” I finish, the finality in my tone absolute.
“Everyone needs love, Ivanya,” she murmurs, sleep thick in her tone. “It's what reminds us that we're human.” Her words are a slur before she snores off to sleep.
Love does do that, sure, but so does pain.
* * *
“I’m trying really hard not to be offended here, but I’m not gonna lie, I’m offended…” Lucinda says through controlled breathing as she runs on the treadmill beside mine. I’d complained about my hangover without realizing that my best friend would absolutely see that as a betrayal. After all, she always likes to be present whenever I'm embarrassing myself.
“I’m sure more nights are coming,” I answer without losing breath. Damn. I might need to up my jog. I’ve been running fifteen miles every day. It’s time to extend that.
I hit the timer and the belt slows to a walk. This year, this has become my safe place. The gym, Lucinda, and whatever world I let my mind drift off to. I thought it would be easier as time went on, but it’s becoming worse. As if the time I robbed him from is being replaced by the ache of losing him.
We both jump off the treadmills and gather our items before pushing our way through the front doors.
I unlock my car and the headlights cut through the darkness.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Ive?” Lucinda asks, just as my hand brushes the handle.
Fresh air fills my lungs as I take a moment to gather my thoughts.
She could be asking one of two things. I’m hoping it’s the second one since the first would imply she doesn’t think it’s a good idea.
I rest on the driver’s door. “I’m always ready. For both things you’re questioning.”
Luce’s eyes fall to my mouth. She wants to say a thousand things, but we both know why she won’t. “I know, but—”
“—but nothing,” I snap and instantly feel bad when I notice her flinch. I don’t fight with my friends. I always found it weird that grown adults would still fight with their friends. We’re old enough to walk away from anything we no longer want. There’s no point in arguing.
“Okay. Fine!” She glares at me behind her suicide door before it chops between us and her window is lowering. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She burns off down the street.
I stay a moment. “I’m sure I won’t!”
I slide into my Maserati, and when the engine fires up beneath me, I turn the music up and pull out onto the street. A call comes through on the dash as I take the turn down my long driveway.
A bright smile spreads across my screen, instantly pulling one onto mine.
I tap answer. “Are you lonely already, Nonna?”
Her laugh rips free, raw and unguarded. “I’m always lonely without my babies around me.”
We don’t remind her that none of us are babies, some of us never were, and she’s not all that old. She’s always seen us that way, whether we wanted her to or not, and none of us are about to fight her on it either.
“I was calling to see how your therapy sessions have been?”
I curse under my breath. “Trou du cul de merde, Nonna. He needs to stop stressing you out.”
She clucks her tongue, and even though I can’t see her, I know she’s giving me that look that says,don’t fucking swear in front of me. I listen more as an adult than I ever did as a teenager.
