I grabbed a pillow, put it over my face, and screamed.
Why did life have to be so hard?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Thatcher
Life was a drudgery.
I stared out my office window at the gray January day. Even though it didn’t get very cold in the South, I still hated winter. Everything looked dead or dull. The trees didn’t have their leaves, the grass was dormant and brown, and it rarely ever snowed to cover all of it up in a blanket of beauty.
The outside world was a perfect reflection of how I was feeling inside. The holidays had been miserable. If it weren’t for Celia and Bryce, I would’ve drowned my sorrows in a whiskey bottle and spent the whole time reflecting on everything I’d ever done wrong in my life. The two of them, who were also furious with our mother and Olive, had moved in with me for the time being. There was plenty of room in the house Carrie and I had shared. They said it was so we could all be together over the holidays, but I knew they were worried about me. The fact that they were still at the house after the holidays had come and gone proved that.
I didn’t blame them. I was a fucking mess.
Celia had made me aware that we actually had a counseling department at Caldwell Financial for the employees to make use of. I was surprised to realize we had three full-time therapists and a psychiatrist on staff to handle employees’ needs.
“You should see Maya. Dr. Therot. Both Bryce and I see her a couple of times a month.” She’d said.
“What for?” I’d wondered if I needed to be worried about my siblings.
She’d looked sorry for me. “You do remember our shitty childhood, right?”
I had nodded wincing. Bryce’s and Celia’s had been worse than mine or Olive’s. I was the first born, the heir, and that came with certain privileges. Olive was the baby, so she was spoiled. Bryce and Celia fell in the middle and struggled to get much attention. Because of it, Bryce had acted out in negative ways so our parents would notice him, while Celia became a hyper motivated mini adult.
“I’ll make the first appointment for you,” Celia had said briskly.
I’d been seeing Dr. Therot at work two or three times a week ever since then, and I wondered if she was getting sick of me. I hoped not, because it was helping. I was starting to be able to see all the places I had gone wrong. How if I would’ve just cut everything off with Madison when it still seemed somewhat innocent, things would probably have worked out fine with Carrie. I could’ve confessed to her that I’d been engaged before, and I’d never gotten over the hurt of being so easy to leave. And that when Madison had shown back up in my life, I focused less on who she actually was than on how she transported me back to a time before anything bad had happened to me. I’d liked myself better then and possibly wanted to return to those times.
But, of course, you can’t go back. Everyone knows that.
I held my coffee, still staring blankly at the bleak January day outside. “I’d rather go back to the time before Madison returned. Then I’d still be happily living with Carrie.”
“Are you talking to yourself?” Lisa had poked her head in the doorway.
“Uh… yes, I guess,” I said sheepishly.
“Your lawyer is on line two. You must’ve been thinking really hard over there. I buzzed you twice, and you didn’t answer.”
“I didn’t hear it at all,” I admitted and shrugged as Lisa left. My hand hesitated over the phone before I picked it up. I’d been dreading this call but had known it would come any day. My divorce must be finalized.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Thatcher. I’ve got interesting news for you.”
I perked up a little. “What is it?”
“Carrie has asked for another mediation meeting.”
My mouth dropped open, and I couldn’t speak for a moment.
“Thatcher?”
“Yeah… Yes, I’m here. Do you think she wants to cancel the divorce?”
“Well, no. I wouldn’t go that far. But something has changed or we wouldn’t need to meet. This is short notice, but the mediator had an opening for this afternoon. Can you…”
“Yes!” I cut him off. “Absolutely. I’ll be there.
