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“I…” Her instinct was to deny the accusation. But she had done that. Except…“It was his idea.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“Yeah right.”
But it had been, hadn’t it? He’d suggested they celebrate, then she’d seen him holding the bottle.
The bottle.
She’d been so sex brained and quite literally starving after spending the whole day in bed that it never occurred to her to consider where the champagne had actually come from. Sure, she kept some wine around for the casual glass, but on the wine rack, not in the refrigerator. She hadn’t been thinking clearly. The bottle was just there, looking refreshing and inviting and…Oh god. Her skin prickled, and the pendant grew hot against her chest.
“Do you know what a struggle it’s been—”
“It’s been such a struggle—” Lana cut in.
“—for him to stay sober?” Sara finished.
Devra shook out of her guilt. She’d let her guard down in December, that was true. Mistaken a situation for something it might not have been. But that didn’t change the fact that she had checked and double checked with Bradley to make sure he was okay with it. He’d said he was, and that was that. An inconsequential moment in a perfect day.
“You’re getting this all wrong. He was totally fine with it,” Devra said. “He told me his cravings are under control. He isn’t struggling. He’s doing great—already one year sober.”
The sisters tossed their hands in the air in such perfect unison Devra was sure they must have choreographed it beforehand. They began shouting over each other.
“He’s doing great?”
“It’s like you have no idea—”
“—no clue what he’s been through.”
“Do you know how hard—”
“—such a hard year.”
“It’s like you don’t even know him at all!”
Their fragmented phrases battered down on her like hail. She did know him, didn’t she? She and Bradley had shared dozens of letters, shared their life stories, their innermost thoughts. She’d asked him about his addiction several times. Although she could also remember thinking he was holding back, using humour as a way to deflect.
“Aren’t you going to say something?”
The twins’ question barely registered as Devra’s mind reeled with some of her own.
Had she failed to take his issues seriously enough? Placing them squarely in his past and not in his present? If she had, it was because he seemed to too. Bradley seemed perfect to her. So confident and at ease with himself. So proud of being sober. A whole person, while she was fractured bits in need of glue.
“Hello!” they said in unison.
Sure, she’d glimpsed other sides to Bradley. Anxious, apologetic. But they’d been tiptoeing around a new relationship when she’d first seen him like that. A normal situation to experience a little stress. Or when something would go wrong: the tarot card reading they thought was a flop or when they feared her mother wasn’t going to show. These were appropriate times for a touch of anxiety. Of course, then there was the Bradley she’d seen peeking nervously through parted curtains during their breakup. A man she hadn’t recognized at all. Was it more than the typical nerves for him? Is that what Lana and Sara were trying to tell her? That behind the scenes, Bradley was someone she didn’t know as well as she thought she did. Someone who still struggled with—
“Are you listening to us?”
The truth smacked into her. She’d been too quick to laugh at his jokes, to roll with his deflections, instead of trying to pry deeper and truly understand what he’d been through. What he was apparently still going through, despite his relaxed front. She hadn’t tried. Not really. Not like he had. The time and effort he’d invested to understand her, to understand her curse. While ignoring his own.
“I…I have to go.”
Devra dashed up her porch steps, leaving Lana and Sara still yammering and waving their hands. Flinging open her front door, she rushed to her computer.
It started with a Google search, a few different websites scanned here and there, which turned into an online trip to the library. A dozen research papers printed out. A handful of e-books downloaded to her iPad. An audiobook played at 2x speed while she microwaved her dinner and deep cleaned her kitchen. Followed by a few more internet searches, digging deeper, learning more.
Late night bled into the wee hours, and the more Devra researched, the more she thought, perhaps, she was beginning to understand what Bradley was going through. Why he had to end things with her. It wasn’t because of her curse, as she’d so quickly reduced it to. Even if the champagne had set the breakup in motion, there was so much more to it. It wasn’t even because of her, exactly. It was for himself, because of the battle he was fighting every day, one he must be terrified of losing.
