Dear Life(49)

“It was no problem at all. I really like Daisy. She’s super sweet, and all she wants is to experience life; how could I not help her accomplish that dream of hers?”

“Pretty hard not to.” Amanda leans her back against the counter and sips from her wineglass. “Can I get mushy on you?”

“When has asking ever stopped you?”

“True.” Sighing, she tilts her head and studies me. “I’m grateful for you coming out today and taking part in my wedding stuff. I know it must not be easy for you.”

Understatement of the day.

Must not be easy on me. Ha, more like it was a gut-wrenching, sweat-inducing, fear-clenching kind of day. If I wasn’t on the verge of having a panic attack, then I was ready to vomit from anxiety and the many memories assaulting me.

With every white, lacy dress I came across, or talk of venues, flowers, and bridesmaid dresses, I had flashback after flashback of my wedding night, or my marriage . . . of the dark night I was told Eric passed.

But I held it together. I don’t know how, but I did, and now I just want to leave and be alone for the night. Leaving wasn’t really an option though. Amanda insisted upon making me dinner for everything I did today.

Honestly, I didn’t do anything but participate and defer all attention to Daisy when we started shopping for her because the more I helped Daisy, the less sick I felt.

But now I’m back at Amanda’s house, alone with her and dreading all conversation. There is no buffer now, no way for me to change the topic without being massively obvious.

Swallowing hard, not wanting to touch the topic of how hard today really was, I ask, “Is Matt going to be home for dinner?”

“No, he sent me a text a little earlier, he had some kind of emergency meeting with one of his players.”

Immediately my mind jumps to Jace and if he’s okay.

“Did he say what player?” I ask, being totally obvious.

“He didn’t.” Amanda gives me a knowing smile. “He usually doesn’t tell me details about things happening in the clubhouse because I have a big mouth.”

“Smart man.” I laugh. “Wonder if Gonzalez got himself in trouble again.”

Slightly shocked, Amanda asks, “Have you been paying attention to sports again?”

“No. I just see things trending on the side of my Facebook.”

Once the water is finally boiling, Amanda dumps dry noodles into the hot pot and then turns on me. I know that look.

Walking toward me, she leans on the counter, and asks, “Would you ever let yourself fall in love again?”

Yup, I was right. She asked a question I didn’t want to answer.

“Uh, I don’t know.” Don’t commit to anything, be vague, it’s the best way to get through this question.

Would I ever let myself fall in love again? Is that even possible? To fall in love with two people? To give your heart to two people? A piece of me died with him. The fun, goal-driven, dream-living girl left and in her place is a shell of the woman I once was.

Nursing school is no longer on my radar, having a family, having children, a mere memory. Wanting to be the wife who cooks dinner for her husband—naked, only wearing an apron—no longer exists. That person is gone. Vanished. Those dreams faded the day I lost the man who meant everything to me. He was my radar.

The thought of actually revisiting all those dreams makes me laugh. I would never be able to accomplish them without Eric and my heart wouldn’t be able to handle any more of them untouched.

That’s why I don’t strive for anything, why I continue to waitress at a low-end restaurant, why I’ve dropped all studies, and why I haven’t even attempted to date again.

“You know you can love again, right?” Amanda asks, interrupting my thoughts. “It’s okay to love again, Hollyn.”

It’s not, but she doesn’t need to know that. She wouldn’t understand.

Needing to get out of here, I pretend to receive a text message. Checking my phone, I scrunch my nose and sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Amanda asks.

“Cindy from the restaurant needs me to cover her shift. Her son is sick again. I have to go.”

“Oh no, I hope he’s okay,” Amanda says, falling for the lie.

Yup, I just lied to my best friend. I’m an amazing person. Instead of telling her the truth, that I can’t handle all this talk, that today was a hard day for me, I plaster on a fake smile, and tell her a lie to free myself of the hell I’m currently experiencing.

“I’m sure it’s just a cold. Sorry I have to bounce. Hopefully we can do dinner again soon.”

She tags along behind me to the entryway where I quickly throw on my coat and retrieve my keys from my purse.

“Yes, we have to.” Pausing, she wraps her arms around me from behind and rests her head between my shoulder blades. “I’ve missed you, Hollyn.”

I’ve missed me too. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Returning the embrace, I grip her arms and hold them tight for a second. Suffocating. I have to get out of here. Hold it together. Hold it in.

The walk to my car feels like a mile while I attempt to hold back the agony ripping me apart. Why did he have to die? Why did the love of my life have to die? The faint feeling of darkness is starting to encroach. I can’t.

I’ve been here before. Last time I’ve felt this all-consuming feeling of despondency, I didn’t leave my apartment for three days. Not wanting to fall into that dark hole again, I reach for my phone and dial the one person I know will understand me.