I bury my pain during Christmas dinner, faking a smile and trying not to think about the two of them across the road, celebrating with Roni, Tony, Erin, and Dara, no doubt gushing over the impending birth of the newest addition to the family.
That night, I succumb to my pain, sobbing into my pillow as it all comes crashing down on me again. Everything hurts, and I’m sick of feeling like this. It’s been eight months. When is this ever going to end? The bed dips as Mom slides in behind me. She cradles me in her arms while pressing kisses into the top of my head.
The next day, she quietly informs me they have returned to London and coaxes me out for a walk around the park. Whispering Lake is another trigger, and I can’t go there to purge my mind like I have so often in the past.
Hehas also ruined that for me.
I’m beginning to believe I’ll never be comfortable in this town again.
On Monday, when I’m getting into my car to go into town, I find my laptop on the back seat. I’m frozen as I stare at it. I’m sure it wasn’t there on Friday when I last drove my car. Am I going crazy? It’s not improbable because how else do you explain it?
At the store, I hand back the unwanted gift, telling the guy working there that I will pay with my own card for a different phone, and he can refund the original purchase to the original owner. On a whim, I decide to ditch my old number and get a new one.
Before I return to college, I delete all my social media accounts and delete my old Gmail and set up a new one, and when I’m back on campus, I request a new student email address. I set up fingerprint identification and 2FA on everything, ensuring all my accounts are secure.
These small things make me feel like I’m taking back control of my life, and I’m determined that the new year will be a fresh start for me.
At the end of January, Tonya is knocked down by a car outside the bar where she works and instantly killed. Paige is inconsolable, and it’s my turn to comfort her while she grieves. It helps to distract me from my own pain, giving me something to focus on besides my ping-ponging emotions.
Neither of us feels like doing anything for spring break, so we head to Ryemont for the week.
We are returning from a walk on Tuesday when Roni calls out to me.
“Skit.” I nibble on my lip as I contemplate what to do. I haven’t spoken to any of the Hunts since our breakup. I know Roni wanted to talk to me last year, but Mom told her I was too upset. I really don’t want to talk to her about it now, but I don’t want to be rude either. I love Roni, and it’s not like any of this is her fault. “You go inside,” I tell Paige as Roni walks across the street toward me.
“You sure?” Paige eyes Roni with suspicion as she approaches us. “I can stay for moral support.”
“I’ll be fine.” I hug her, feeling how much weight she’s lost. “Go. I won’t be far behind you.”
Paige walks off, and I lift my head, trying to brace myself for whatever is coming.
“Astrid. You changed your hair.”
“Hi, Roni. Yes, I did.”
“I’m so sorry for everything you’re going through, honey. We’re all still in shock, and we love you. I hope you know that.”
“What can I do for you, Roni?” I shove my hands into the pockets of my jacket and hope she gets to the point soon. There is only so much emotional turmoil a person can take.
Compassion splays across her face. “Are you okay?”
Tears prick my eyes. I could lie, but what’s the point when she’d know it’s a lie? “No, I’m not okay. I’ve been betrayed by the two people I thought I could trust. All the plans I had for my future are gone just like that. I’ve never been further from okay.”
“I’m so sorry. I can only imagine the pain you’re in.”
“It’s not your place to apologize for them, and I don’t blame you for any of this.”
“I’m devastated, Astrid.” She swipes at the moisture building in her eyes. “I hate how this has torn everything apart, and I miss you. I miss my son too because, believe me, he’s so lost without you.”
“Roni.” My voice cracks. “Please don’t do this.”
“Astrid, please, please just listen. I’m desperate, and I truly believe you’re the only one who can help.”
I move to walk off. “I can’t help. Whatever it is?—”
“She’s blackmailing him, and I hate her!”
I stand rooted to the spot.
