Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Then, I pull in a deep breath and call my ex, bracing myself for a lecture. But when I explain the situation, all Ben says is, “Okay, Mel, thanks for letting me know. We’ll head home and meet Wesley there.”
I nibble my lip, willing myself to thank him and hang up. Instead, I say, “That’s it? No lecture about doing too much and needing a better time management system?”
“Would it make a difference?” he asks, practical as always. That’s Ben for you. He’s never one to waste effort on lost causes. That’s why he moved out months before I was anywhere close to giving up on our marriage. He knows when to let go and let sleeping dogs lie.
I, on the other hand…
“It’s an extreme situation, Ben,” I say, an edge in my voice. “An old friend almost died on the ice, and I had to take his grandmother to the hospital. Otherwise, I never would have forgotten.” That’s a lie, of course—Chase was already in bed, and I’d completely forgotten about taking him to his dad long before Aaron was hurt—but the truth isn’t as important as proving to Ben that I’m doing okay without him.
I need that win. He has a beautiful relationship with a man he loves, transformed his dad bod into a fab bod with high-intensity training three mornings a week, and just booked a month-long trip to France for this coming summer. I need to at least be a semi-functional human in comparison.
“Since when is Aaron a friend of yours?” Ben asks. “I thought you hated him. Didn’t he make fun of you in high school?”
The sliding doors leading into the emergency room open and Delores steps out into the cold, calling my name.
Thank God, saved by the grandmother.
“I have to go,” I tell Ben. “I think there’s news on Aaron’s condition. I’ll touch base with you tomorrow.”
“Okay, take care. Tell Aaron we hope he feels better soon.”
I promise to do so and end the call, hurrying over to Delores. “What’s up?” I ask, shivering as a freezing gust of air cuts through my sweater. “You shouldn’t be out here without your coat, woman.”
“Oh right, I left it on the chair,” she says as I guide her back toward the waiting room. “The doctor said they need to sew Aaron up and take some scans before we can see him. I thought I’d get some coffee in the cafeteria to pass the time. Would you like a cup for the road?”
“What road?” I ask with a frown. “I’m staying here with you.”
Some of the tension eases from her slim back. “You don’t have to get home?”
“Nope, my family stepped in to help out, and my brother is taking my son to my ex’s house. I can stay as long as you need me.”
Delores sighs and reaches out to pat my arm. “Oh good. Time passes so slowly when you’re alone in a crisis. Even when you’re old.” She gathers her coat and purse from the waiting room chair, and we start toward the cafeteria. “It’s true what they say, you know. About getting older. The years fly by faster and faster and before you know it, your bones are brittle, your eyes don’t work, and you can’t eat anything spicier than a yellow bell pepper.” She sighs. “I miss jalapeño cornbread like you wouldn’t believe. And the iron stomach of my youth. You never know what you’ve got until it’s gone.”
“So true,” I say, my throat tightening.
I knew I loved Ben and was happy in our marriage, but I had no idea how much I took his steady, calming presence and knack for spreadsheets for granted until he was gone. Suddenly, I had to manage the monthly grocery budget, unexpected repairs, and my social and work calendars on my own.
And guess what? Turns out I suck at it.
Almost as much as I suck at not crying myself to sleep, wishing my person was still with me to tell me that he loves me, and everything is going to be okay.
Well, at least someone told you they loved you today, even if he was high on painkillers.
But that wasn’t real, and even if it were, I don’t want Aaron Boudreaux’s love. I don’t want anyone’s love. I just want to feel like I’m keeping all the balls in the air without dropping them on unsuspecting family members and friends.
And I’d like to be…happy.
I’m not sure when happiness became a “fake it until I make it” thing, but I’m sick of faking it. I’m afraid if it doesn’t become real again soon, I might never be happy again. I might forget how. Whatever synapses fire to create that feeling of safety and well-being might go cold inside my brain, never to flicker to life again.
A part of me is still dwelling on the happiness problem when Delores and I are finally escorted to Aaron’s hospital room two hours later to find him standing by the window with his ass out for show-and-tell through the flap in his hospital gown.