Sweet Nothing(76)

“Okay,” I said, trying to remain calm. “Take some time and think about this. Call Ginger. She can explain.”

“I’m not interested in whatever story you and Ginger concocted. She’s your friend, Josh. Not mine.”

I heaved, her words knocking the breath out of me. “I should have known. It ruins everything.”

Avery narrowed her eyes, her fury building. “It?”

“I’m f*cking cursed, Avery,” I blurted out. “I should have told you, but I’d hoped if I did right by you, if I changed … It destroys everything I touch.”

“Cursed? Do you think this is funny?”

“My sister, my parents, Brooke, the baby … I’m being punished for what I did to Kayla.”

“You’re not being punished, Josh,” Avery spat. “You were a kid.”

“I thought if I did this right, if I didn’t f*ck around, that just maybe we …” I shook my head, unable to finish.

“Bad luck is an excuse used by cowards who don’t want to take responsibility for their actions.”

“You don’t understand, Avery,” I said, reaching out for her. “It sounds crazy, but I’ve lived it. Bad things happen to people I care about. I’d stopped trying until I met you.”

“Bad things happen, Josh. You can’t just give up on making the right choice.”

Avery awkwardly bent over to pick up a bag I hadn’t noticed sitting by the bedroom door.

An overwhelming sinking feeling came over me. “Don’t leave,” I begged. “I can fix this, Avery. Just … don’t leave me.”

Avery covered her mouth, and with a sob, turned for the door.

Deb seemed sad, curling her arm around Avery’s shoulders and walking her outside.

I slid down against the wall, knotting my fingers in my hair. “I can fix this,” I whispered to myself. “I’m gonna fix this.”

The living room light reflected off a silver chain on the coffee table. Avery’s penny necklace was lying on the glass. My heart began to pound against my rib cage, and I closed my eyes tight. “I’m gonna … what the f*ck do I do?”

I stood and stumbled toward the necklace. Beneath it was a pair of coral lace panties, ones I was sure didn’t belong to Avery. I picked them up, turning them in my hand. “What the f*ck?”

After a knock on the door, I ran across the room and yanked it open. Avery wouldn’t be knocking, but at the moment, I didn’t care why. I just wanted my wife to be standing on the other side.

“Hey,” Hope said. She noticed my expression and then poked her head in. “Are you alone?”

“I can’t talk right now, Hope,” I said, turning and closing the door.

It didn’t close. Instead, I heard Hope’s footsteps behind me.

“Um … that’s my, um … in your hand.”

I stopped and turned around, looking at the thin fabric. I tried to keep my voice even. “Why are your panties in my apartment, Hope?”

She shrugged, looking embarrassed, but not surprised. “I must have dropped them on the way out after I finished my laundry.”

I held up the lace in my fist. “My wife found these. She f*cking left me, Hope.”

Hope took a step toward me. “I’m so sorry. I can try to call her if you want.” She touched my arm. “She’s been so irrational, Josh, even for a pregnant woman. She’s … I didn’t want to say it before, but she’s so mean to you. I hate to see you beat down over and over again. You’re so good and so loving. Avery doesn’t see it. I’m not sure she ever will. Do you want to come over and talk about it? Toby’s asleep.”

For the first time, I saw the desire and intention in Hope’s eyes.

“I just want to make you feel better,” she said softly. “We can hang out on the couch, or … we can do whatever you want, Josh. Sometimes we just need one night not to have to think about or feel anything.”

I looked down at her.

Her gaze fell to my lips. “I can make you feel better.”

Just as she leaned closer, I shirked my arm from her grasp. “You scheming bitch. You did it on purpose.”

“What?” she said, feigning surprise.

“You told me earlier you knew exactly how many pairs of panties you had.” I threw the lace to her, and she caught it against her chest. “You left them here for Avery to find!”

“Josh,” she said. “You’re upset. You’re being ridiculous.”

I pointed to the door, feeling rage boil in my blood. “Get out. Get out before I throw you out.”

“You’re crazy,” she said, backing away. She stopped in the hallway, indignant. “You and Avery belong together.”

“Yeah, we do,” I said, slamming the door in her face.





My spine ached from sitting so long on the floor, but it felt right to suffer. Avery had been gone for three days, and I’d been drunk for about the same amount of time.

My bloody hands shook as I tipped the fifth of Jack to my lips, closing my eyes as the burn scorched a path from my lips down to my stomach.

The amber liquid was barely a trickle now that I’d sucked the bottle dry. Tossing the glass to the side, it clattered and banged along the floor, coming to a rest against the kitchen island.