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I don’t think there are any words in the dictionary that can accurately define how I feel every morning when I wake up.
Shame for the secrets I kept from her.
Regret for my actions that led up to that night.
Guilty I’m still alive and she’s gone.
I’ve made a habit of washing away all those feeling in the shower each and every morning. I try not to carry the weight of Sam’s death with me to work. I can’t let the burden I feel get in the way of my job. I need to have a clear head at all times, and thinking about her, about what happened, tends to make the world around me disappear.
Muttering my thanks, I hang up on Spencer before I back out of the deal. I need to pack my battle armor because I’m headed to war. My head and my heart have been fighting each other for years, and this weekend will be no different. If anything, the battle will intensify.
My phone chimes in my hand minutes later with an incoming message. True to his word, Spencer has sent me not only a confirmation for my reservation at the Hideaway but also an itinerary. I need to buy a plane ticket and start packing. My schedule this week was already light because of the significance of Saturday. Knowing I tend to break down the day before, I was prepared.
I found that out the hard way. In front of my boss. The tears wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t catch my breath long enough to explain why I was crying.
Still, this throws a hiccup in my already modified work schedule this week. I’ll need to cancel an interview on Wednesday afternoon—so I can catch a flight—and clear my schedule Thursday.
Sending my assistant an email, I attach the itinerary and ask her to adjust accordingly and book me a flight for as early in the afternoon as possible. With the time change, I’ll already be losing three hours. I’d rather not be checking into my room in the middle of the night. An hour later, I’m staring at my partially packed suitcases, a feeling of uncertainty washing over me.
I can’t do this. I can’t go back there. What the hell was I thinking agreeing to this?
I’m considering texting Spencer an apology when an email from my assistant with my flight information and modified schedule comes through. There’s no changing my mind now. This is happening.
I’m returning to Great Falls for the first time since I ran, almost five years ago. I swore I’d never go back. One bad memory overshadows all the good. And it’s that memory that’s the very reason for my return.
To honor my friend.
To celebrate her life.
To remember who she was before she was taken from us.
Because of me.
