I want you back. I want you to choose me. Let’s go back to the old days when we would laugh and have fun over a stupid television show or when we both sat on the ground, bribing Hannah to take her first steps with a cookie, like you would do with a new puppy. We had no clue what we were doing then, and I had no clue what I was doing when I left you for someone else. It was stupid. It was wrong. It was the biggest mistake of my life, Brody. Please, give me another chance.
If you want the same thing that I do, call me as soon as you can so we can talk.
Love Always,
Kristy
I pull the note away and squint my eyes at the name and some of the words, feeling nothing but a boatload of confusion. “Why?—the woman hates me.”
“Obviously that’s not true,” Journey says. “I know she hurt you, but she’s trying to do the right thing. I don’t want to stand in your way of putting your family back together.”
I’m staring at Journey with disbelief and a bit of anger because I don’t know why she would think I’d even consider getting back together with Kristy. Her name burns my tongue, just thinking about it.
Journey is staring down at the wooden floor between us, her fingers clasped together and her hair drapes to the sides of her face. I glance at the letter again, re-reading the part about laughing at television shows together.
“You know, maybe I’ll just give her a quick call to see why she’s having this semi-mid-life crisis, I guess. I can’t avoid her, right?” I ask.
Journey’s head snaps up, her eyes narrowing in on mine. “Right,” she says, her voice hoarse.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and scroll through my contacts. “I’m seriously in shock. I didn’t think she’d ever come knocking on my door again,” I say.
The four legs of the wooden chair scrape tersely against the floor as Journey pushes out from the table. “What the hell, Brody?” she yells, throwing her hands up in the air.
I fold my hands in front of my waist and stare down at Journey’s bare feet for a moment, noticing the light pink polish I would never expect to see on her toenails. “So, did I ever tell you that Kristy was convinced she was allergic to television? Something about the LED lights causing migraines, which must be an allergy of sorts—I don’t know, but throughout the years we were together, we actually didn’t own a TV, believe it or not. We had books and board games—that was our source of limited laughter. It’s odd she would mention laughing at TV shows, isn’t it?”
Journey’s brows furrow, and she crosses her arms over her chest defensively. “What are you saying?” she asks.
“I’m going to go call her to find out what shows we were laughing at together. She must have a memory of something I can’t recall, and I definitely want to know more about it.” Journey swallows the lump in her throat, and it’s so loud, I can hear it two feet away. I let out a small laugh. “You know what else is funny? Hannah took her first steps at ten months while Kristy was away on a business trip. She was nearly running across the house by the time she got home a week later. We had no idea she’d go from cruising along the couch to jogging at such a young age, but kids take you by surprise, you know?”
Journey glances over at Hannah, who is resting peacefully on the couch with a Seventeen magazine. There is no eye contact made because Hannah is smart enough not to get involved in a private conversation between Journey and me.
I take a few steps away from Journey, walking toward the computer desk in the family room. “What are you doing?” Journey says, following me.
“Nothing. I’m just going to write a quick note back so I can tell Kristy what I think about her lies and fake promises.”
“Brody,” Journey says, trying to stop me by just calling my name. I reach the desk, shake the mouse around, and open an internet browser. “Brody, wait, before you do that—”
I ignore my wife-to-be on our wedding day and continue clicking around like she probably thinks I’m not skilled enough to do. I open her writing program and click on recent files, finding a no-name document sitting right on top. As I click the file, Journey jumps on my back. “Stop it!” she shouts.
The letter populates on the screen. “Just as I suspected. Kristy was in this damn house last night too, wasn’t she? She is really all in on this decision, isn’t she?”
Journey releases her grip from around my shoulders, sliding back down to the ground. “Must be,” she says.
I turn around and cock my head to the side. “Why?” I ask.
“Why what?”
“Why did you do this?” I continue.
Journey spins around and walks to our bedroom. I play the game and follow her, watching as she takes a book from my nightstand.
Planning a Wedding: His Way
“Page one-hundred-fifty. How to start your wedding day off on the right foot: pull a practical joke on your fiancée so she has something to laugh about when she feels nervous later in the day.”
“Yeah, and? I obviously skipped that tip—or so you think.”
“Well,” she says with a shrug. “I didn’t skip the tip.” A grin stretches across her cheeks. “Brody, sweetheart, love of my life, before I marry you today, could you make me one tiny little promise?”
