I roll my eyes. I’m not stupid. He uses work as an excuse because how can you be angry with someone for being at work? But when he says work, it could mean any number of things. Sometimes it’s meetings at the office, other times it’s a stupid golf trip.
It makes me want to scream.
I like to imagine myself really letting him have it. If I were the version of me from my daydreams, I’d tell him to go fuck himself. I’d tell him, “I’m too good for you, and you were terrible in bed.” When I picture it—and I do picture it often—I don’t let him get a word in. I just fling insults without a care for how much it might hurt him. Sometimes I even convince myself that I might be able to do it for real one day—but I don’t.
I text him back.
Okay.
Every conversation I have with him, I leave wishing I’d been meaner.
After an emotionally charged visit with my attorney, I say goodbye to my mother without disclosing any of the details before pouring myself a bowl of cereal while Maggie naps on the couch.
My mind reels.
I never needed an attorney until Casey and I separated, but Mallory and I have become well acquainted since I hired her. Especially considering my husband’s been a giant pain in the ass every step of the way. He tried to cut me off from all our accounts—she quickly put a stop to that. Thank God because the last thing I need added to my plate right this minute is financial struggles.
He even demanded I give him back the Escalade because it’s technically in his name. I threw him the keys. My attorney could have put a stop to that too, but honestly, I don’t want the stupid thing anyway. My new Honda Accord gets way better gas mileage and is easier to park.
Jess eyes me suspiciously as she waltzes in the front door. “Hey…”
“Hey,” I mutter, not lifting my eyes from the few Froot Loops floating in my bowl.
Dropping her things at the door, she kicks off her shoes and pads toward me with bare feet.
“What did Mallory say?”
I shake my head, blinking a few times. I’ve cried more than I’d care to admit today. My attorney explained that I could hire someone to clean out the house so I wouldn’t have to go back. The more she explained it, themore my stomach churned. I hate that town, but I hate the idea of someone else touching her things more.
Her house was the one place I felt safe and loved as a child, and now it’s all I have left of her. Before our parents split, Shane and I used to stay there for the weekend sometimes. It was a reprieve from the fighting. Then they divorced, and we started staying with our dad in Ravens Ridge every summer. Eventually, when he wasn’t allowed to have us unsupervised anymore, Gran took us those summers instead.
I was devastated when I left that last time. It felt like I was losing my home, but Gran and my mother insisted that coming back was a bad idea. I still saw her when she’d come to Raleigh to visit, but there were many times I’d wished I could just jump in the car and go to her. Particularly when I was having a tough time with something.
The squeezing in my chest feels a lot like drowning. Jess slowly lowers herself into a chair, watching me closely.
Swallowing, I sit up a little straighter. “She said we could do an estate sale. That everything could be sold that way.” My shoulders sag. “I wouldn’t have to go back to clean it myself.”
She runs a hand down my arm. “That’s good! That’s what you wanted, right? To not have to go back?”
I shrug. I don’t know what I want. That’s a lie. I want Gran. For her to wrap me in a hug and tell me everything’s going to be okay because I’m not sure anymore. I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again. It feels like I’m being pulled apart at the seams, and I don’t know how much more I can take. They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but I’m so tired of getting stronger.
Facing her, I clear my throat before saying, “I don’tknow. When I think about her house being gone, about not having anywhere to remind me of her…”
Tears spill over, and I wipe them away to no avail because more keep coming. Lifting my eyes to hers, I finish by saying, “I don’t want someone else to clear out her things. It’s all I have left?—”
My shoulders shake, and I drop my face to my hands. She slides closer, wrapping her arms around me, and I sink into her hold.
“I’m so sorry, Ash.”
When I speak again, it’s broken. “I need to say goodbye.”
Her hand runs over my hair as I cry into her shoulder.
My last conversation with Gran wasn’t even about anything that mattered. We talked about a stupid book I’d just finished the night before. I thought she’d like it, and I spent the last twenty minutes I spoke to her rambling about something that didn’t amount to anything. And now I’ll never talk to her again.
She pulls back.
“I need more time with her. I’m not ready to let her go, Jess.” I suck in sharp breaths because I might actually suffocate.
