“Welcome home, my friend.”
“It's good to see you, Yve, but I don't know if it's good to be home.”
“Come on.” She held my hand and led me to the front door.
When I opened the door and flicked on the lights, everything was as I left it. A cold shiver ran up my spine, as if Julian's ghost lingered.
“Nothing has changed.”
“Yeah.” Yve, shrugged. “I came by last night after you called. Made sure to clean out and restock your fridge.” She walked over to the piles of bills on the kitchen table. “I know it's a federal offense to open someone's mail, but it looks like you don't have anything past due.”
“Really?” That surprised me. I dashed to the kitchen table and dug through the envelopes. I opened the light bill. It had been paid the first of the month. It was the same with the gas, water, and the property taxes. I pulled out a chair and sat, my forehead rested on my forearms. “He'd been paying all of it.”
“Brie.” Yve patted my hair.
“I fucked everything up by going to Charlotte,” I cried. “Maybe he would’ve changed if I’d just talked to him.”
The chair next to me squeaked. “Here's the problem with women. The second something goes wrong, we think it's our fault. We’re so quick to take the blame. How many times did he hit you? How many bruises did you have to cover up? How many times did you fear for your life? Better yet, how many times did you beg him to change? After every fight, he apologized.”
I looked up, my eyes soaked with tears. She was right.
“Brie, he had a gun pointed at you. He tried to kill you.” She stretched her hand out for mine. “Don't let the fact he paid the bills break you. Don't weep, because he wasn’t a good man. A husband is supposed to empower his wife. Every time he placed his hands on you, he broke a piece of you. Julian brought this upon himself, and you have nothing to feel guilty about.”
I sighed. “When did you get so smart?”
She smirked. “I've been reading a lot since you've been gone.”
I smiled weakly and lowered my head to the table. “I think I need to figure out what I'm going to do with my life.”
“What do you have a mind?”
I lifted my head to look at Yve. “I don't know, but it's not this.” Massaging my scalp, I ran my hands through my hair. “Warren told me that home is where love is. This isn't my home.”
“You can always come back to work.”
“I'll probably take you up on that offer, but I need to get out of this place.”
“You can move in with me.”
A grin grew on my face. “That sound like a brilliant idea.”
“So, do you miss Nate?”
I sighed. “Every second. I think this time it hurts more. Before the whole chaos with Julian, I told him I asked Julian for a divorce and that I wanted to be with him. He said he was going to leave her. For those few seconds, we were together.”
Yve stood and walked over to her purse. Pulling out a liter of tequila, she placed it on the table.
“You just walk around carrying tequila in your purse?” I laughed.
“I figured you’d need to drown your sorrows. I’d suggest a giant cock to ease your pain, but you don’t look like that type of girl.” She walked over to the cupboards, pulled out two glasses, and then handed one to me. “To the bastards we love, the ones we lost, and the ones we could never forget. Salut.” She raised her glass.
I brought my glass to my lips and swallowed the agave infused alcohol. Yve was right. I needed to drink my sorrow for a few more days.
Five days after Yve and I drank all the alcohol our livers could consume, I managed to get my life somewhat situated. There was still no call, email or text from Nate. My heart ached, but I refused to let my heart be ripped open once more.
I went through Julian’s bills and his savings. To my surprise, he left me with a lot more money than I was aware of. I cringed at first, not wanting to do anything with it since I didn’t have any idea how he earned it, but Yve reminded me that I needed cash to pay rent.
So I took the money.
The following Saturday, I was packing the remainder of the house. I’d located a realtor to list the condo, and eventually all this would be behind me. I’d been staying with Yve since I arrived home, and every night after work I returned and packed up a room. There were boxes for donations, legal documents I needed to store, and my own personal crap I needed to pack.
It was a cool autumn day, and unfortunately, the heavy rain that always reminded me of me and Nate at Lake Norman hadn’t let up for my move. My cell phone rang in my back pocket and I juggled carrying a box and attempting to answer my cell.