“Train station, please.”
And it’s done. I don’t let myself look back.
11
Last week seemed like it was the brightest week that I’ve had in my entire life. This week is easily the darkest.
Bryce calls. He tries. But I don’t answer.
Every little reminder of him is like a fresh punch in the gut. The clothes he left behind. The toothbrush on my sink. The scent of him on my sheets.
But at the same time, I can’t bring myself to move them or get rid of them or wash them. Because then he’ll be gone completely.
This feels like when I left Waterton all over again, except this time, it’s worse. This time I know what I’m missing.
Elle knows immediately, and when she asks about Bryce, I tell her not to bring him up. Ever. And she does what she does best, she distracts me. I throw myself into work and the store. I swear that it’s never looked better in the last few years. I clean everything from top to bottom. I take care of invoices and orders as they come in. Everything is perfect and running smoothly.
Until I remember that he’s gone. I lost him and left him, and everything is utter shit again.
At least Ursula understands. In that way that animals do, she senses when I’m down and is with me the second I come home, curling up with me when I watch TV and following me when I go to bed. Her fur has been wet with my tears, but all she does is purr and snuggle closer.
Days pass, one after the other, and I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever come out of this. It shouldn’t be this hard, right? I got a taste of what I wanted and it’s not meant to be. I’m a big girl. I can look back on the happy memories and value them for what they are. I need to pick myself up and get over it.
Or that’s what I tell myself.
Because it’s just not that fucking simple.
It never is.
It’s Saturday when the phone rings. I’m still in bed. I don’t move to answer it, because I think it’s Bryce. He’s still trying to call, though not as much as he did the first few days. But glancing at the caller ID, I see it’s not him. It’s my mom.
I pick up. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hey sweetie. We haven’t heard from you in a while so I thought I’d call and check in. Say hello.”
“I’m okay,” I lie.
“That’s good to hear. How’s my kitty?”
My mom and Ursula have a fun relationship. She spoils her and always asks about her kitty. If I gave her half a chance, she’d steal Ursula right out from underneath me. “She’s right here, snuggling with me.”
“Make sure you send me some pictures later,” she says.
“I will.”
I can hear my mom smiling, and some rustling in the background as she works on whatever task is at hand. It’s rare that she sits still, especially when she’s on the phone. “I did call to check in, but I have great news to share, too.” Her obvious happiness and enthusiasm make me feel better. “What’s that?”
“You know your dad’s friend, Bryce?”
All the breath rushes out of me, like I’ve been hit. I had no idea this would have anything to do with him. Shit. I need to breathe. I need to speak. “Yeah, of course,” I say. More than you fucking know. More than you’ll ever want to know or care. More than I can stand.
“Well his stepsister, Marcy, just had her baby! They’re both doing well, even though the baby was a little early. But when her mom called and told us, she mentioned that you’d stopped by the baby shower, so I thought you might want to see the baby.”
“Sorry about the shower,” I say. “It was a whirlwind trip.”
“I figured as much, though I didn’t know that you and Marcy were still friends.”
I sigh. I can tell her the truth, at least about this. “We’re not, really. I did the calligraphy on the place cards for the shower.”
“Oh,” she says brightly. “That was nice of you.”
I thought so. The tears well up and over and I try to keep my sobs silent. My mom doesn’t need to know about this. “Well, Marcy has invited everyone to see the baby, and since you haven’t been up to see us in a while, I thought you might come up and stay for a couple days and swing by the hospital before you go home.”
This will never happen for me. Not with Bryce. My mom won’t be calling all our relatives with ecstatic news that we’ve had our first child, and the hole inside me gapes like a black hole, threatening to suck me under. God, it hurts. I try to wipe the tears away, but they keep coming.