Aggie greets me at the door as soon as I walk in, and there’s something about the wag of her tail and the way it looks like she’s smiling that immediately makes me lose it. I drop to my knees and let her climb into my arms and lick my face, and I finally release the grief and pain and tension that I’ve been bottling for hours as I white-knuckled it home.
I played that last conversation with Riley over and over in my mind during the drive. I know I fucked up by not telling him about Cooper, and I should have considered his sobriety rule before the collab with Rod. But surely that can’t be enough to throw away our whole relationship? Surely we can figure out a compromise that doesn’t involve me quitting work or losing Riley.
Aggie is sniffing around my bag now, swinging her gaze between me and the door. She probably needs to go out, but first I have to talk to Riley. I have to find out how much damage I did with that drunken phone call, and I have to try and fix it.
Just when I think his phone is going to ring to voicemail, he answers with a groggy, “H’lo?” and my heart leaps into my throat.
“Hi, baby,” I breathe, my voice breaking at knowing that it’s really him on the other end of the line.
“Luke?” He sounds a little more alert now. “It’s almost midnight…are you okay?”
I wince. I forgot about the two-hour time difference. “Yeah…yeah, I’m sorry. Um…where are you?”
I can hear the rustling of the sheets in the background, and my heart aches to be next to him. “I got home a few hours ago. Why are you calling, Luke?”
“I just…I, um, saw that I called you last night.” I pull my knees up and drop my head forward in shame. “I don’t know what I said, so…I was just hoping maybe we could talk about it.”
Riley releases a long breath, and I can hear the pain and exhaustion in the sound. “I don’t know what you said either, so we don’t really have anything to talk about. I listened to the first few seconds, and it was pretty clear you were drunk, so I deleted it.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure if I’m relieved or saddened that he didn’t listen to it.
“Was that all?” His voice is a little clipped, and I suddenly feel like a little kid being scolded, but I don’t know why.
“I just really wanted to talk to you…” I trail off, not sure what else to say to keep him on the line. Suddenly, I remember my birthday and our plans. “I know you probably need some time, and I get that…but maybe some space will help, you know? We can go to Hawaii in a couple of weeks and?—”
“I can’t go to Hawaii with you, Luke.”
The words were spoken plain as day, but for some reason, my brain can’t make them make sense. “But…we already have everything booked and planned…”
“Listen to me, Luke.” He’s trying his hardest to mask the way his voice cracks on my name, but his tone is firm. “I can’t do this with you anymore. You called me completely plastered last night, right after I told you that your drinking is scaring me. I can’t keep watching you close in on yourself, and I love you too much to stand by and do nothing while you self-destruct. So…we can’t go to Hawaii together.”
“I can stop,” I insist desperately. “It isn’t that big of a deal, I was just?—”
“It isn’t just the drinking. You lied to me about Cooper, and you still haven’t told me what’s going on with you. I haven’t felt like you respect me at all lately. I do need space, and a few weeks isn’t enough.” His voice betrays him and breaks a little when he says, “I think it’s best if we don’t talk. I need a clean break from this, okay?”
I’m frozen solid, mind completely blank except for a high-pitched ringing in my ears.
“Please get some help.” His voice is a quiet plea. “Please.”
The click on the other end indicates that the call has ended, and I think I may have gone into shock because I can’t feel anything. Aggie is pushing at me with her nose, but the coldness of her snout doesn’t register against my skin. My phone falls to the floor, and I think I hear a crack, but I can’t bring myself to care.
No.
This can’t be it. This can’t be the end.
Itcan’tbe.
Aggie is whining now, pawing at my arm and trying to climb into my lap. I lift her carefully and bury my face into the fold of skin at her warm neck, breathing in the lavender scent of the shampoo they use on her at the daycare. The calming effect of the scent must be working, because I should definitely be feelingthe now familiar shortness of breath and tightening of my chest, but instead, I just feel numb.
“It’s okay, Aggs,” I tell her softly. “He’s not coming back…but you’re gonna be okay.” She lets out another muffled whine. “It’s okay to be sad. Someday, it won’t hurt as much, but it’s okay if it hurts right now. It just means you really, really love him.”
A tear lands on the top of her head, and some distant part of my mind knows it must be mine. “It’s okay to cry,” I tell Aggie. “And it’s okay if right now you feel like it won’t be okay ever again. But you’re gonna make it through this, alright? It’s gonna be okay. I don’t know how, but somehow…it has to be—” My voice breaks, and pressure is building in my chest and moving up my throat, finally releasing in a sob.
I hug Aggie tightly to my chest and let out a cry of anguish that should bring relief to the pain in my heart, but only seems to sharpen it. I’m crying so hard that I can’t catch my breath now. A part of my mind panics at the inability to do something as necessary and simple as drawing breath, while another part is relieved that maybe this will be it, and my lungs will stop working, and I’ll be released from this excruciating pain of realizing that I am the one thing I hoped I’d never be again:
Alone.
I should probably worry about the fact that there are huge gaps of time that are just missing from my memory from the past couple of weeks, but I can’t bring myself to care. I don’t care about anything at all.
