Chapter 8
Time and Tequila
? The Night We Met - Lord Huron
Angelina
Five years ago
Three words.Jess is gone.
That’s all it took to turn my world upside down.
We were supposed to grow old together.
She was supposed to be the maid of honor at my wedding and the godmother to my future babies. All my best-laid plans mean nothing if I don’t have Jess to share them with.
From the moment we met in college, it felt like I’d known her my whole life. She was there the day I got my doctorate, and I was in the waiting room when she gave birth to Emmy Lou. She was my person.
Was.
I make my way to the front of the packed reception room, where my best friend’s closed casket lies in wait. Jess was lovedby everyone she met, strangers and friends alike. I press my hand to the top of the casket and bow as tears stream down my cheeks.
It’s been a week since we lost her. I can’t eat, can’t sleep. All I do is cry and laugh, but mostly, I cry. The emotional upheaval makes it hard to even wake up in the morning.
I spot Bernie Hoffmann from our favorite Deli speaking with Wilder. He’s in his sixties, with greying hair and a short, round build. We visited every week, always with the same order. He caught on quickly and would have it ready for us when we arrived. I’ll miss it, but I can’t go back without her. It’s bad enough that I can see the welcome sign from my window.
When I reach the receiving line, Wilder pulls me into his arms. We stay like that for several long minutes, crying and clinging to each other like we might die if we let go.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
I shake my head, but no words come out. I know he blames himself for her death. It’s not his fault. It was an accident. I wish I could make myself say the words, but it’s all I can do to keep breathing.
When he releases me, Jess’s parents, Shawn and Catherine, take his place.
“You should be standing up here with us,” Catherine says, cradling my face in her palms. “You were like a sister to her.”
“I c-can’t.” There’s no universe in which I could stand up here and grieve for an entire room full of people who only knew bits and pieces of the amazing woman I was fortunate enough to call my best friend. It’s hard enough to be standing here now, knowing I have to walk away, and she won’t be coming with me this time.
Shawn’s palm slides up and down my back. “It’s ok. You’ll be ok.”
I don’t believe him.
I’ve held up the line long enough, so I rush out of the room only to collapse in the dark, empty hallway. I’ve always had a weird response to trauma, so when the tears give way to laughter, I let it happen. If Jess were here, she’d be mortified. The thought sends me back to the pits of despair, and the tears start all over again.
As the contradictory emotions get the better of me, a door opens to my right, and a pair of worn cowboy boots enters my field of vision. I follow them up to jean-clad legs and a gold belt buckle until I’m staring into the familiar brown eyes of Griffin Hayes.
I had a fleeting thought that we might be something once. Now he’s another reminder of everything I’ve lost.
I close my eyes and stand, but when I try to walk away, he grips my wrist.
His thumb skates along my pulse point. “Don’t go.”
Griffin’s solemn voice cracks through what little walls I’d built up. When I turn, his eyes are swimming with emotion. I’ve been so lost in my grief, I’d forgotten that Griffin grew up with her. She was more than his sister-in-law.
“She’s gone, Griff.”
He wraps me in his arms and cradles my head against his chest. “I know, Angel. I know.” His tenderness unravels me, and my tears soak through his shirt. “Let’s go find somewhere quiet to sit.”
