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"We need some retail therapy," Chloe declares as we reach her car.
"What did you have in mind?" Chloe on a shopping adventure is an all-day excursion. It's already after lunch. We don't have the hours she would normally dedicate, and the closest mall is almost an hour from here. If we want to shop at a place where more than half the stores aren't vacant, we need to head to Denver.
"Me, you, and Lola. Tomorrow we'll head to Denver and start getting things for the babies. What do you think?"
She wants to shop for our unborn children. A task I'm not really up for at the moment, but I'm sure she thinks it will be therapeutic for me.
Thankfully, I have a viable excuse to get out of it.
"Actually, tomorrow isn't a good day for me. Remember how I mentioned I knew someone Wyatt should talk to about the position at the hotel? Well, she has her interview tomorrow, and I'm going to watch her son, Gus, while she meets with Wyatt."
"Who is this girl, anyway?"
Leaning back against her car, Chloe crosses her arms over her chest. Her stare is curious but also filled with concern.
"I met her at the grocery store the night Adam proposed. She's a sweet girl, but she's in a hard spot right now. Single mother. No job. I just want to help her if I can."
"That's sweet of you, Addy, but what do you really know about her?"
"I know enough. I was in her shoes once, remember? When I went through everything I did with Liam and the baby, I never once asked for help. I thought it would make me appear weak. In the end, my body wasn't strong enough and neither was my heart. She didn't ask me for help, just to be clear, I offered."
Chloe nods, pushes off her car, and pulls me in for a hug.
"That big, beautiful heart of yours is strong, despite what you think. I hope you realize that."
Unwilling to talk about my past anymore today, Chloe and I part ways, and I head home. As I walk through the door, I hear a large thud and run toward the sound.
What I find is both hilarious and sexy as hell.
Adam, shirtless, setting up my treadmill. His back is glistening with sweat, the muscles in his arms taught.
I contemplate telling him about the wheels so he doesn't have to work so hard, but before I can get the words out, I have a flashback and clam up.
It still feelslike I'm on autopilot. Every morning, I get up, go to class, and then come home. It's been the same routine for the last week since I lost the baby. I have no ambition to go anywhere or do anything.
The doctor said it may take a while to feel normal again. He warned me about depression and the five stages of grief. When he recommended I see a therapist, I stopped listening.
Going to therapy means talking about how I feel. The last thing I want is to feel right now.
Curling deeper under the covers, I hear the front door open, the dull beeps of the alarm until its silenced, and then Liam holler for me. I don't bother to answer him. What's the point?
Our relationship is over. In fact, I know I need to move out, but at the moment, I don't want to move at all. I'll get there and eventually put an end to our relationship so I can put him out of his misery.
We've both been different since that night. It changes you. It makes you realize what's really important in life. It's not the ring I lost. It's not a poor grade in class, stupid mistake, or money. The most important thing in life is the people you surround yourself with. The love you feel and the love you share.
I've lost my will to love right now. Liam found his through the tragedy.
He's asked me to marry him twice since that night. He's hovering worse than my mother, constantly asking me if I need anything. The last three days, he's brought me gifts. Flowers, food, a book. Things he knew I would like and would willingly accept.
What he doesn't understand is that I see him in a different light now. He used to be the man I loved, the one I someday hoped would be my husband and father of my children.
When I look at him now, all I see is the loss. The failure. I feel it too. I'm broken, and as hard as he tries, nothing is going to fix me. Not right now, maybe not ever.
"Hey," Liam says, leaning against the door frame. I glance away from the TV to find a smile on his face. It's always there, his smile. It's irritating as fuck.
"I got you a little something," he continues when I don't acknowledge him. That damn smile doesn't fade either. "Can you come out here for a minute, please?"
Rolling my eyes, I throw back the covers and follow him into the living room. The couch has been pushed against the far wall and in the middle of the room is a treadmill. One with a lot of buttons and a display screen that looks high tech.
