Beautiful Graves(66)

Three weeks since my heart soared, because I knew he meant it.

Three weeks since Nora started living in our apartment full-time because she is worried for me.

Three weeks since Colt had a fit about it, then apologized to both of us.

Three weeks since I changed my sheets and went grocery shopping and took a shower.

I’m not always in my bed. Sometimes I get up to answer the DoorDash delivery person, as indicated from the mountains of takeout dishes littered around me. I sometimes go to the bathroom. I feed and water Loki religiously. But mostly, I’m in my bed.

The day after the funeral, I quit both my jobs without notice. Jenine, my boss, seemed understanding. Then again, the option not to be understanding was taken away from her. I lost my fiancé. I deserve a free pass.

Nothing really anchors me to Salem anymore. I don’t have a job, or friends, or an affiliation with this place. Salem is soaked with Dom’s presence. The city, in itself, is an open wound for me. Case in point—I don’t leave the house anymore.

But then San Francisco is a reminder that my mom died. I can’t stand either of these places right now. But I have to exist somewhere. Currently, though, the easiest thing to do is . . . well, to not-do anything.

Since I’m too distracted to watch TV and read books, I mainly spend my time going over Dom’s social media accounts, holding on to the remainders of him. There’s not much there. Dom wasn’t big on social media. I keep staring at his three Instagram pictures over and over again. I get into the comments section. Check the profiles of all the people who liked them. That’s how I find Sarah’s Instagram profile. It’s public but scanty. There’s one photo there of her and Dom smiling at each other in a nightclub. I notice that Dom liked and commented on her photos until his very last day alive.

Two days before he died, he liked a picture of her and commented with a string of hearts. Presumably, he already knew he was going to propose to me.

I’m so mad at him; sometimes I wish I could resurrect him just so I could bitch-slap him. Other times I promise God that if he brings him back to me, I won’t complain. I’d forgive him. Pretend it never happened.

Now, I hear Colt and Nora arguing in the living room.

“. . . said we’re moving in together. I’m tired of this shit, Nor. It’s been years. Not months—years!” Colt groans. I wonder if he knows just how thin our walls are as I stare at the ceiling from my bed.

“What am I supposed to do, Colt? She just lost her fiancé!”

“Of four hours!” Colt hits back.

“Don’t be gross.” Nora sounds appalled more than anything else. “What an insensitive thing to say.”

“Now who knows when she’s going to feel better? You’ll be stuck here forever. I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t.”

I agree with Colt. Nora should move in with her fiancé. She can’t keep being my crutch. I muster the energy, fling the blanket off, and hobble to the living room. I rap on the wall three times to indicate my presence.

Nora and Colt both turn to look at me, surprised.

“You left your bed.” Nora’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“Yup.” I’m smiling. It hurts my cheeks so bad I’m surprised I’m not bleeding. “Just thought you guys should know I have plans for this evening.”

“You do?” Nora’s eyebrows reach her hairline.

“Yes.”

“Who with?” she demands.

“Joe,” I say naturally. He is the only person I know in this town other than them, so it’s a no-brainer.

“Nice.” Colt folds his arms over his chest. “Need a ride?”

“No. I just wanted you guys to know, so if you want to go out or anything, you can. I’m totally okay. And while we’re on the subject.” I turn to Nora, taking a deep breath. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done and are still doing for me. But please don’t let it screw up your life. I promise I’m okay. Move out. Live your life. I’m still going to have you as a friend. You can keep an eye on me. You are welcome here anytime you want to check on me. I’ll even let you have our spare keys. I’ve ruined enough lives, Nor. I don’t want yours to be added to the list. Go live with Colt.”

“Thank you, Jesus.” Colt rolls his eyes up to the ceiling, pressing his hands together in a praying motion. “FYI, Ever, I think you’re great. I just . . . I don’t want us to get stuck. All of us. Me. Her. You.”

“Yeah, Colt. Sure.” I smile sweetly at him. “The fact that you keep saying that I’m great totally excuses you from behaving like a world-class dick. Keep up the good work.”

“Don’t be like that!” Colt cries out.

Nora looks between us. Pain is marring her face.

“We’ll give you a ride,” she says.

“There’s no need—”

“There is,” she insists. “I don’t want you to go by yourself. Plus, it’ll be nice to check in on Joe.”

“I’m not a kid, Nora.”

“I know that,” she says brightly, pretending like all is dandy and Colt and I didn’t just have a standoff. “But I’m a helicopter parent in the making, so deal.”

Begrudgingly, I call Joe to let him know that I somehow roped him into my lie and now we have to at least pretend that we’re meeting. He answers after the third ring, sounding both surprised and worried.