“She always says that,” I mutter.
“So, you don’t think it’s true?”
I shrug. “Who knows. Even if he is, it never lasts long. I love him, but I really doubt he’s completely clean.”
She eyes me like I’m going to take it back.
Do I feel bad for thinking that of my own brother? Of course, but hoping he’ll turn things around only leaves me with disappointment. I want him to get better, and I’ll love him forever. I just don’t believe him when he says he’s okay.
Jess turns to get another bottle of wine. My phone buzzes on the counter.
Unknown number.
My heart drops.
There’s a pretty good chance I know who will be on the other end. If I’m right, that will be the last straw for today. I hit ignore and put my phone face down before she notices.
3
ASH
MARCH PRESENT DAY
Casey and I have to be separated a year before we can officially file for divorce, so I’ll be his wife whileshesleeps in his bed for at least that long. Bile rises in my throat every time I think about that fact.
Since moving out, I’ve spent the last three weeks wallowing on the couch. I’ve made my way through all the classics: crying myself to sleep, drunk dialing him at midnight, watchingDirty Dancingon repeat, and consuming nothing but Doritos.
I’ve done it all.
When I’m with Maggie is about the only time I feel okay. Something about her sweet face has the ability to make me almost forget the chaos that is my life. The rest of the time, I’m a mess.
Don’t worry about him, though. He’s wasted no time filling his Facebook with photos of the two of them on dates and at work functions. Not that I’ve been checking or anything.
Jess’s sofa might have a permanent imprint of my buttnow. Every night when I crawl into bed, I tell myselftomorrow will be the day I finally get up and brush myself off,and every morning when I wake, the weight of doing that pulls me under, and I find myself right back in this spot on the couch.
Maybe tomorrow.
I don’t get it. How can someone vow to spend the rest of their life loving you and then choose someone else?
Gran told me years ago that I deserve a man who wouldn’t walk away from me. Her voice repeats through my head all day and night now.
But what if that never happens? What if they always walk away? How many times should I put myself in that position?
It feels like I’m creeping close to the limit.
Anytime I think about Gran, I want to cry. I used to stay with her every summer. She was my favorite person. She didn’t want a funeral, so I just got a call that she was gone. That’s it. I still don’t think I’ve let it sink in. How could I? I’d barely scratched the surface of grief when Casey turned my life upside down.
We used to talk every morning while I was taking Maggie to school, but aside from the missing calls, everything continued as it was before.
I hate it.
Losing someone so monumental in your life should stop the world from turning, right? At least for a little bit. But that’s not how it works. It leaves an aching hole in your chest, but no one can see it. No one else can feel it. The rest of the world goes on while rot spreads in your gut.
When it first happened, I would accidentally forget and call her in the morning only to remember at the sound of her voicemail.
So, maybe my permanent residence on my sister’s couch is more than just heartache. It’s the culmination of losing the love of my life and the person I’d have run to with my broken heart.
Because make no mistake, I would have called her, and she would have come to Raleigh right away.
