Page 111 of The Has-Been

I was just a baby when my dad passed. Too little to understand what was happening. But now I get it—what my mom went through.

Then she almost lost me, lost the last piece of my dad—her husband—a piece of herself, too.

So I’ll listen to her talk about knitting, about the weather, whatever the hell she wants to talk about, I’ll listen.

And I won’t ever complain.

JANUARY

“You are totally glowing,” I smile widely to my therapist as she finally tells me the news I’ve suspected for our last few sessions.

“Oh, Liam,” Jasmine giggles from across the screen. “I wish I felt that way.” She rubs her stomach. “This morning sickness…it’s got me down something terrible.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know it. You look great. Give my congratulations to your wife, too. You two will be amazing parents.”

After I went home for Christmas, spending time with old friends and family, I started to realize just how much of people’s lives I’ve been absent from, whether that be from the last few years of me being away for college, or just so lost in myself that I’ve failed to be present.

So, my New Year’s resolution was to get to know the people in my life better.

And the one person I credit with so much of my growth is Jasmine.

It didn’t take me long to learn that I really didn’t know anything about her. And sure, it’s her job to know me—better than myself sometimes, but it doesn’t take away the fact that I never asked, never cared to try to know her.

But now, I know she’s happily married to her high school sweetheart, Amber. She loves Disney movies, snowy days, and beach vacations.

And as of today, I know she’s eight weeks pregnant.

Sure, it’s not much.

But it’s a start.

CHAPTER 25

BLURRED LINES

AUBREY

It’s been nearly two months since I left Liam.

But that’s not to say that I haven’t heard from him. He texts or calls me every single day.

I never answer, never respond. But I listen and read every single thing he sends.

Desperately holding on…

I learned from his last voice message that he’s applying to med school this month.

He’s going to be a doctor.

I would be lying to say I wasn’t happy for him. He’s always been more interested in the injury and recovery portion of athletic training, especially since his own injury. And I have no doubt that he will be much happier with his career change.

A loud knock sounds on my door as I roll to my side. Reese cracks my door open. “Feeling any better?” she asks, keeping her distance at the door.

“Eh,” I say as I try to sit up in bed. My head swims, and my stomach grumbles. I press my hand over my abdomen and quickly reach for my water. I take a few sips, gulping down the cool liquid before asking her, “I’ll be fine.”

A wave of nausea hits me like a truck. I reach for the trash can that has been at my bedside for two days now. I pull in a deep breath, trying to ease away the feeling. After a few minutes of sweating and fighting to keep what little water I’ve managed to drink to keep down, I look up and see that Reese is still watching me through my door.

She tilts her head.