Page 17 of Sorry

This was a nightmare. Tess and I were both home, stuck with each other. I tried to go along with her sudden change in behavior, of her being nice and trying to have conversations with me. She asked if I wanted her to make us Carbonara because she knew it was my favorite. It was sad because this was all I ever wanted. But now, I was suspicious because this definitely wasn't normal. Something felt off. I was starting to believe in Jake’s theories, that she was out to get me. This theory was made worse by the fact she did not know how to cook, so I was convinced she was trying to take me out via carbonara.

We ate separately. I usually ordered food and made sandwiches, while I waited for my order to arrive. We stopped eating in the same room or at the same time together because of how many times she made disgusted faces at me; telling me I ate like a pig, that I should try at least not to get food on my face, or that I ate too much.

She accused me of giving her excuses, when I told her that growing up in foster homes made me eat faster because sometimes other kids would steal your food. Some foster homes spent the money they got from the government, on themselves, rather than meals for us kids. So you ate as fast and as much as you could stomach in one go, just in case the next meal never came.

She was waiting for me to answer her, pulling at her oversized shirt, fidgeting with the hem. Since she took time off of work, it’s all she’s been wearing. Nothing looked familiar because it was all new, I knew because I saw the boxes of clothes she purchased last week. It looked beautiful on her, casual and cozy, with her blond hair and barefoot. She almost looked like that nineteen-year-old girl I was smitten with. That person was long gone. But here I was still with a smidge of hope. Hope, that she might go back to tolerating me, not berating me every chance she had. Looking at me like the shit under her shoes.

“Yeah, sure. Would you rather us order from Nico’s? If that is too much work.” You can’t blame me, she undercooks chicken and that's coming from me — who can't fry an omelet without burning it.

Her face changed from nervous expectation, to pure unfiltered rage. She went red as a tomato and started shouting and crying, “I WAS TRYING TO BE NICE! I REALLY DID BUT I CAN’T! I CAN’T STAND BEING AROUND YOU! I AM PREGNANT! I AM FUCKING PREGNANT ALEX!” — silence.

The room spun. My heart dropped into my stomach. That was it. The last thread that kept us, the fucked up 'unit’ we were, as a family has been cut. I didn’t know what to say. I felt dizzy. What was I expecting? This was inevitable. She has been fucking that shithead Paul, for years. He is who is worthy of her, not me, the dirty rugged, banged up contractor.

I was not sad because I loved her, I was fucked up, damaged and craved closeness.

I was scared of being abandoned, yet again and being alone.

She was almost hyperventilating and looking at me waiting for my reaction. But I was unable to move or speak. “I want you gone.” She walked over to her bag, reaching in and she produces a paper folder, “I wanted to do it over dinner, I tried to be nice but I want a divorce. I don’t care if it hurts your feelings, man up for once. This baby isn’t yours, obviously.” She almost scoffed at me, as if the idea of having my child was ridiculous. That hurt more than it should. A baby. Everything made sense now. The mood swings, the clothes, time off of work… I am so dumb.

“I have nowhere to go.” I whispered, pathetically.

“Honestly I don't care Alex, this house is mine and always has been, it was a gift from my parents. I am pregnant, it's only fair you leave. But I will give you a week and then I want you gone. I am having morning sickness so bad lately and your work clothes smell of dust and make me want to vomit. I am over it.” She walked closer to me, and dropped the folder and pen on the kitchen island where I was sitting.

“Sign it Alex, I want this over and done with. Don’t fight me, you won’t win. This divorce is happening no matter what.” Crossing her arms in front of herself, looking furious.

Where will I go? There is no room in Matt and Jake's place, maybe they would let me crash on their sofa. I wouldn’t fit even if you could fold me in half.

My mind was racing.

She cleared her throat and snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts. I blinked a few times, grabbed the pen and signed everywhere she pointed at, she was talking but she sounded muffled. When I was done signing, she gathered the papers and told me I could sleep in the guest room for now. I could stay there until I move out, so she doesn't need to smell my cheap deodorant. I didn’t say anything, just stood up and walked out the door.

My legs automatically brought me to my two best friends, I don't even remember walking here. I let myself in their house like I owned it, and then I saw him. Sam. Sitting right beside my usual spot on their couch.

CHAPTER 21

SAM

Miss Jenny sat besides me on the sofa, angling herself so she could look at me directly. Holding a white envelope in her hand.

“Sam dear. Your grandmother loved you more than life itself.” I didn’t like this. “She knew she didn't have long left, she was old and her heart medication wasn’t working anymore. She wanted to do something for you before she was gone, so she asked me to help her out. She asked me to help her write you a letter. I couldn't write in Serbian and her hands were not steady enough. I wrote what she told me in this letter. She said to give it to you after she is gone so I waited till the funeral was out of the way. I think you carry guilt and you need to read her last words, now more than ever.” Miss Jenny's eyes were soft, but behind them I saw her sadness too. She loved my Baka as much as I did.

I took the letter with shaking hands, eyes already flooding with tears. “Thank you Miss Jenny, thank you so much.”

“Always darlin’. You are my family too, just like the boys next door and Alex. I hold all of you boys close to my heart. Okay now. I will leave you to it, you should have some privacy with your granny. I’m just across the road. I know you will have more questions, so when you are ready come and we will talk more over tea.

Bye love.” She left, and I got up to lock the door behind her.

I kept blinking, pushing the tears away, the envelope blurring every few seconds. I decided not to prolong it, so I walked over to Baka’s armchair and sat down. Nobody has sat here since she died, probably out of respect. But I wanted to feel close to her. I needed to. Opening the envelope carefully, I began to read.

Dear Sam,

My beautiful grandson. You were your mom and dad's pride and joy. They always bragged about you, smart and beautiful, their perfect son. But me… If I could, I would have you in the daily newspaper every day.

I always knew you can do amazing things once you set your mind to it, but then that piece of shit turned your light off, I thought completely. But Baka sees everything, I see that spark any time you visit, when we are in the kitchen baking and cooking. It’s still there. My Sam is still there… And I know your big heart was protecting me from the truth but I told you son, Baka has always got you.

With this house that was always yours, but now that I am gone, it’s legally yours, you also get all my savings. Your late grandfather and I have been saving most of our long marriage. When he passed I just continued saving, I didn't need it but your father might have, so the figures grew over the years.

When the war started your mom and dad and myself moved here and with some of that money bought this house. There was plenty left in the savings account so I just kept adding to it, then your parents joined in on it too.