Bring Me Back(58)



I tell the hostess that I’m waiting for someone, and she nods as I take a seat on the bench.

Ivy arrives a few minutes later and cries, “I’m sorry I’m late.”

I dismiss her words with a shake of my head. “You’re not late, I was early,” I tell her.

The hostess takes us to our seats and we both look over the menus. I’m only looking at mine to be polite. I know exactly what I want. Chicken tenders. I think this might be my first official pregnancy craving. Since the night my mom brought me home the takeout I’ve wanted them every night since.

We place our drink order when the waiter stops by and then Ivy goes back to looking at the menu. I slide mine to the edge of the table.

She must finally make her decision because a few seconds later she slides hers over as well.

The waiter returns with our drinks and takes our order before leaving again.

I take a sip of my water. “So,” I begin, “how are you?” I don’t really know what to say to her so that seems like a safe enough option.

“As good as I can be.” She plays with the paper from her straw. She’s a beautiful woman, older than me—probably in her late thirties—with dark skin and eyes. Her hair is short and she’s dressed stylishly in a pair of skinny jeans, heels, a billowy white top, and a gray jacket. “Grief is strange, isn’t it?” she muses. “I didn’t want to talk about that with you, and yet I find that it’s the only thing on my mind—missing him, I mean.”

“Your husband?” I ask.

“Yes,” she answers sadly, twisting the wedding band on her finger. “I lost him in a car crash like you lost your Ben.” She gives me a sympathetic look. “Maybe that’s why I felt like I wanted to talk to you. Someone that actually knows what it feels like. My friends and family … they try, but they don’t know how I feel.”

I nod my head in understanding. “I know what you mean,” I agree. “It’s hard to lose someone that close to you and people … They feel bad about it, but they don’t get it because they’re not experiencing it. Humans are inherently selfish creatures, and unless it’s happening to them directly then it’s not real.”

She nods and snaps her fingers together. “Exactly.” She takes a sip of water. “Being in Group helps. It’s nice being around people who’ve been through the same thing.”

“Yeah,” I agree, “I think it’s helping me. I like it.” I shrug.

She smiles knowingly. “Is it Group that you like or a certain Group leader?” She waggles her brows.

I look away and my cheeks heat. I don’t know what to say because I don’t even know what I think.

“It’s okay,” she says, “you don’t have to say anything. The chemistry between the two of you is enough to start a fire.”

I pale slightly. If Ivy’s noticed, how many other people have? I was na?ve enough to believe it was something only the two of us felt.

“We don’t have chemistry,” I mumble, stirring the ice around in my water with the straw. “Ben and I … we had chemistry.”

Ivy tilts her head to the side. “So you think you can’t have chemistry with anyone else?”

My lips purse. “I don’t know,” I whisper.

“It’s a complicated feeling and I understand completely,” she tells me. “There’s a man at my work that I really like, but there’s all these doubts and hang-ups because I’m afraid it’s too soon, or he won’t measure up to Gregory, my husband. And the fact of the matter is, no one will measure up to him. You can’t compare people. We’re all different and that’s a beautiful thing. You can never replace someone for that very reason. There’s only one Gregory and one Ben” she waves her hand at me “—but that doesn’t mean there’s not a new person out there, waiting for the both of us.”

I ponder over her words. I don’t really know what to say, but they make sense. The problem is I’m still grieving, and as much as my feelings for Ryder are growing, it doesn’t seem fair to give him a chance until I’m over this hurdle.

I need to accept Ben’s death, and I’m just not there yet.

“I’m sorry,” Ivy says with a wince. “I didn’t mean to go off on a tangent like that or to sound preachy. I think I was saying that to myself more than you,” she rambles.

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I understand where you’re coming from. You should ask that guy out at your work. And maybe one day I’ll ask Ryder out, but I need more time.”

“They say time heals all wounds,” she muses over the saying, “but I think it only stitches the wound and we do the rest of the work ourselves. You can’t heal until you’re ready.”

The waiter brings our food and we move on to safer topics. I find out that Ivy is a social worker and I tell her about my job. We have a surprising amount in common and I think I might’ve found a new friend in her.

We don’t bother saying goodbye since we’re both heading to Group. I end up behind her and follow her the whole way to the school.

We head inside together, chatting about the surprisingly hot weather. There are already a few people there, either sitting or grabbing a snack.

Of their own accord, my eyes seek out Ryder.

Micalea Smeltzer's Books