My heart palpitates. I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe deeply. My therapist gave me breathing exercises and it surprised the shit out of me that they actually work.
In, two, three, four.
Out, two, three, four.
In, two, three, four.
My heart rate slows, and I take in a deep breath. I hold it for another four seconds, then exhale and go back to what I was doing.
Taking the box closest to me, I hand it to Terah with a smirk. She and Jon moved in together. Location unknown because of his hottie commando badassness. But I’m happy for her. And she made it clear that all I needed to do for her to come around was call.
So I called. And here she is.
“God, I hate moving. It sucks hairy balls,” she mutters, then quickly adds, “But it’s so exciting! The both of us out of Mom and Dad’s house, and actually doing things.” She pauses a moment. “Dad’s probably going to sell the mansion.”
He should. That house is more trouble than it’s worth. And to think he got it only for security. I chuckle to myself, thinking about how quickly Nox got in.
My heart sinks. Then palpitates. Hard.
I can almost feel it beating out of my chest.
Holy shit, will this ever get easier?
The bridge of my nose stings. I quickly start my breathing exercises. Terah, never one to miss anything, rubs my back. “Nice and deep, kid. I got you.”
And she does. Totally.
Terah has been my rock in this miserable time.
My heart returns to normal pace, and I check my watch. “You better go. Jon will be waiting on you.”
When she doesn’t reply, I look up at her clearly concerned face. She says with false excitement, “I was thinking I could stay here tonight. We can do a sleepover! Watch movies and eat popcorn. What do you think?”
Bless her. I love this woman. I really do.
But I know what she’s doing. So I lie right back to her. Stretching, I say cautiously, “Oh, honey. I’m sorry, I’d love to, but I am beat. As in beat. So I think I might just have a quiet one tonight. Besides, I have the morning shift at work tomorrow.”
Lies. Lies. All lies.
But this is the game we play of late.
Her face falls. And it actually looks genuine. Placing a hand on her shoulder, I squeeze. “Terah, I’m fine. Go home to your man. What are you doing tonight?”
She smiles dreamily, “It’s date night. We’re going to dinner, then out for a drink. Maybe some ice-cream or something.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. But I know better.
Walking over to her, I open my arms, and she steps into my hug. “That’s great. I bet he spoils you.”
She chuckles into my hair. “He does. He’s the best.”
We leave it at that. Anymore talk about happy relationships turns my mood to shit.
Seeing her to the door, I wave her off, and halfway down the hall, she yells out, “We’re such shitty liars. We totally need lessons!”
And I burst into laughter, loving that we do this every single time.
My sister is the best.
Making my way back inside, I pause at the fridge, and peek inside.
Hmmm.
Think I’m going to need a little more than a box of bi-carbonate soda for dinner.
Time to go to the store.
***
Exiting my local store, I carry my bag full of groceries. And seriously! How expensive are groceries? Yeesh! I almost swooned when the checkout lady gave me my total.
Balancing the full, brown paper bag on my thigh, I rearrange myself, then walk on. But the sight of something familiar stops me.
My heart skips a beat.
I see him.
His back is to me. He’s walking away from me.
No.
I don’t think. I just run.
My bag of groceries weighs me down. I throw it to the side and keep running.
No matter how fast I go, I can’t seem to catch up with him.
My hands shake and my eyes blur. I must look like a crazy person running through the street sobbing. Wiping my watery eyes with my sleeve, I look again.
He’s gone.
“Fuck!” My heart pounds and blood roars in my ears. I keep running. Through gasping and shuddering breaths, I mutter “No,” over and over again.
I search and search but there’s no sign of him. He’s gone. I kneel in the center of the sidewalk. My body slumps forward, I cover my face with my hands, and let go.
Crying in frustration.
Crying for my loss.
Arms come around my body. I’m lifted into a strong, warm bear-hug. A deep voice whispers reassuring words that I can’t hear. Or just don’t want to.
I look up into warm, brown eyes. I croak, “What the fuck, Rock?”
His eyes become sad, and he quietly says, “Lovely Lily.” He looks around and states, “I shouldn’t be here.”
Gripping his shirt, I ask in desperation, “Is he dead? As in, really dead?”