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I sat in front of Grant’s tombstone, with my legs bent and my arms crossed on top of my knees. My head rested against my arms as I stared forward at the one person who still made me feel loved. I didn’t say anything that morning, because I knew he wouldn’t be speaking back to me at all, but in my head I’d imagine he’d say I was okay.
Scattered around his tombstone were quarters. I’d leave a quarter every time I’d visit, because it always reminded me of him. When I first met Grant, he was always flipping a quarter between his fingers. He had all his odd beliefs and sayings that stuck with me over the years. “Find a penny, pick it up, all day long you’ll have good luck, find a quarter, make it mine, and I’ll be lucky for the rest of time,” he’d say. There was never a day he didn’t carry a lucky quarter around with him. So, whenever I visited, I left him a quarter, so he’d have a bit of luck on the other side.
As I sat there, feeling hopeless, another one of his lines popped up in my head.
“Rain makes rainbows, Aaliyah. Let the water fall,” he’d probably tell me. “Break first, fix later.”
I broke.
I shattered.
I let the water fall from my eyes as the comfort of Grant’s almost words filled my mind. I was thankful for Grant’s silence that still somehow managed to wrap me up in some kind of mystical safe love.
18
Aaliyah
And now comes the part where I plead.
My stomach sat in knots as I rode the elevator up to the Passion Magazine office, where I would respectfully—okay, probably not—beg for my junior editor position back. Now that I had no need to move to Los Angeles, I was trying to put my feet back on somewhat solid ground. I was a New Yorker through and through, and what do New Yorkers do when life knocks them down? We get back up and start swinging, too—knotted stomachs and all.
I was a bit shocked when my boss Maiv agreed to meet with me after I drunkenly emailed her at four in the morning due to a sleepless night.
Jason still hadn’t called me.
I knew that didn’t matter much, but for some reason, it hurt me. You would think the man who stood you up on your wedding day would at least send an LOL my bad, I overslept and missed our wedding text message of sorts.
Still, somehow his lack of communication was what kept my mind occupied the night before. I thought about where he could be, what he could be doing…who he could be doing.
Of course he was cheating on you, Aaliyah. Hasn’t history taught you anything? That’s what men do. Now, look at you—wasted a year of your life on a man who left. Your time is ticking. Tick, tick, tick…
“Shut up,” I muttered out loud to my own insensitive brain. My thoughts had been in overdrive, trying to convince me that what had happened was all because of me, that I wasn’t good enough, that I wasn’t worthy of the happy ending, that I was bad at finding love that lasted…that I didn’t have time to find a real love.
My thoughts were currently controlling me, and all I wanted was to be able to be in control of them instead, even if that meant sometimes muttering at myself to shut up.
I walked into the front lobby of Passion and saw Greta’s smiling face. She was the front desk receptionist, and for the past few years, it was her face that I’d saw first each day I came into work.
“Hey there, sunshine,” she frowned, looking my way. She was invited to the wedding, so I was certain she knew of the outcome of said event. “How are you doing?”
I smiled, even though I didn’t mean it. “One step at a time.”
“I hate him,” she told me. “And I hope he has a miserable life.”
I wished I could’ve wished the same for him…even though my heart wasn’t there yet. All I wished was that he’d reach out and call me. “How’s Maiv’s mood today?” I asked, shifting the subject away from my failed attempt at getting wed.
“Mood is the same as it is every other day: The Devil Wears Prada Miranda Priestly.” Greta frowned. “Did you really use fifty-four exclamation points in the email you sent to beg for your job back?”
“What? No. It was fifty-two at most.”
She snickered. “You’re a brave woman for having enough nerve to even ask Maiv for your position back.”
“More like desperate, but here we go.”
“Godspeed,” Greta said before holding up her fingers like Katniss from The Hunger Games as a sign of her support and love. “May the odds be ever in your favor.”
I swallowed hard as I walked down the long walkway to Maiv’s office. Everyone in the space looked at me and gave me a mix of empathic expressions and shocked Girl what are you doing? Run! looks. I didn’t know which one to listen to, so I kept walking.
