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I don’t answer her. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I close my bedroom door behind me and peel off the sweatshirt I’m wearing, tossing it haphazardly toward the laundry bin. I undo my jeans button and slide down the zipper, kicking them to the floor. I run to the dresser and pull the third drawer open to find Ben’s t-shirts. I haven’t allowed myself to indulge in this since his death, but right now I need this. I pick up a shirt and slide it over my body before climbing into bed.
I cry into the pillows. I’m confused and still slightly angry. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it’s a normal part of grief, or maybe I’m just crazy. Being crazy seems like the more plausible explanation. I hate feeling this way—where my emotions are one way one second, and another the next. I’m giving myself whiplash, so I can only begin to imagine the way the people around me feel. I hate that I’m doing this to them, but I can’t seem to control my emotions.
“Ben,” I sob. “I need you.”
I reach across the pillows.
Reaching.
Searching.
Hoping.
But he’s not there. My heart breaks over and over again each time I realize that I’m never going to see him again. Never hear him say my name. Hold me in his arms. I guess I thought we were invincible, but I never imagined losing him or anyone I loved this soon. Death was something that happened to old people, but that’s not always true. There are babies that die. It can happen to anyone, at any time, for any reason, and what I understand now is that no matter the circumstances, you’re never truly prepared to have someone die.
My bedroom door creaks open, but I don’t rise up to see who’s there. More than likely it’s my mom coming to check on me.
The person creeps to the side of the bed and then the bed dips with their added weight. Arms wrap around me and I smell familiar floral perfume.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice thick from tears.
“My best friend needed me,” Casey whispers. “I don’t know why you can never trust me to hold you together when you’re falling apart. You’d let Ben do it, but I was around long before him. I’m your best friend, Blaire, but sometimes you treat me like a stranger.”
“I’m sorry.” My body shakes. “I’m falling apart,” I admit, staring at the wall, “and I don’t know how to stop it. I feel like I’m watching a train speed into a car. I don’t know whether I’m the train or the car … maybe both,” I muse.
“Everyone falls apart now and then,” Casey assures me. “But something I’ve noticed, even in my profession, is that people are like puzzles. You may break apart, but there’s always someone that can put you back together.”
I roll over to face her and she lets me go. She cups her hands under her head and blinks, waiting for me to speak.
“I really am sorry for what I said,” I tell her, my gaze lowering in shame. “It was wrong of me, and also a lie. Ben never made fun of you. We never even talked about you having a crush.”
She winces. “I’m sorry if you ever picked up on anything. I mean, I guess I had a little crush on him, but I think everyone that met him did. He was such a nice person, and the way he loved you … I wanted that, but not with him. Never with him,” she vows. “You two were perfect for each other.”
A tear slides down my cheek. “I’m pregnant,” I tell her—saying it out loud fills me with so much joy. “Ben and I were trying to have a baby before … before he died,” I force the words out of my mouth.
Her face breaks into a grin, and tears shimmer in her eyes. “You’re having a baby?”
I nod. “I’m scared,” I admit, afraid she might judge me for being afraid.
“Don’t be,” she says. “You’ll be a great mom, and you’ll have all of us to help you. Not to mention your parents and Ben’s mom.”
“I’m still going to be on my own,” I tell her. “People can’t help me forever.”
“No,” she agrees, “but by that point, you’ll be sick of us.” She winks. “Don’t stress so much, Blaire. I know how you overthink things. Take it one day at a time. Right now, the future is just that—the future; the last unknown territory to conquer.” She gestures wildly with my hand and I giggle. I actually giggle.
“Thank you.” I scoot closer to her and wrap my arms around her neck. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Blaire,” she says into my hair. “You’ll get through this. I know it.”
I’m glad someone believes I will, because most days, I believe I’ll never make it out of this hell.
I lead Jessica around the ballroom, telling her what I have in mind for the reception.
“I was thinking swaths of white fabric here, or in the color of your bridesmaids’ dresses if you prefer.” I motion with my hand to a length of the wall. “This room is pretty modern, so I feel like it should be softened. What do you think?”
She nods, mulling over my words. Her long red hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and she’s dressed in a pair of gray slacks and a pale pink blouse. She has a “take charge” persona, but she’s actually been very nice to me and willing to let me take over with the planning. I’ve grown used to people telling me exactly what they want, so it’s nice when someone allows me to plan an event entirely.
“I like that idea a lot.” She continues to nod. “I agree on white too.”
