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“Hey,” he drawls. “How’d it go?”
I shrug, not really wanting to talk about it. “Okay, I guess. Nothing really new.”
Okay, so maybe it’s stupid. If there’s anyone I could count on with this shit, it’s him. He’s always been there for me, even when his own sister was the cause of my misery. But there’s a part of me that likes living in denial. Where I can ignore all the shit going wrong in my life and pretend like everything is fine.
Like my world isn’t being held together by tape.
And not even the strong duct tape shit. I’m talking about the tape that can hardly hold a poster on the wall because it’s designed not to leave a mark behind.
“Is this today’s mail?” I question, looking at the pile sitting on top of the bar.
He nods. “Yeah, I grabbed it before I came in.”
“Thanks, man,” I say as I take the envelopes. “Let me bring this shit upstairs and I’ll be down in a bit.”
“Sounds good. And don’t forget about tonight!”
My brows furrow. “Tonight?”
He looks at me like I’ve just broken our most sacred rule. “It’s the third Friday in May.”
Shit. “Right. The first bonfire of the season.”
“Fuck yeah!”
I force a grin on my face, one that immediately disappears as soon as I start heading up the stairs.
It’s no surprise that I’m not as excited for bonfire season as I used to be. Just like last year, it only reminds me that it’s been that long since I heard Laiken’s confession spill from her lips—when the feelings I put in a box at fourteen-years-old broke out and demanded to be noticed. That night was the start of it all. The beginning of the only meaningful relationship I’ve ever had. And no matter how many days go by, I’ve yet to break my vows.
The ones that still apply because we’re still married—whether she’s here or not.
If elective amnesia were a thing, I’d like to think I’d be the first one in line. Anything would be better than this mess of emotions I drag around day after day. I’m just as angry as I am hurt. There’s no justification for what she did.
But my heart will always belong to the girl who made me feel for the very first time.
I take a deep breath and sit on my bed, opening the mail and feeling my anxiety build with each one. The wordspast dueandfinal noticein bright red stare back at me, taunting me as they threaten to take away the only dream of mine that still remains intact. But my mom’s care is more important.
The little voice in my head reminds me that I need to tell Cam. And I will. I just need to figure out how. It’s not exactly easy to tell someone that we may lose vendor contracts and possibly the bar itself because I was selfish and fucked up by paying for my mother’s nursing home instead of the bills at the bar. It has to be done right, and at the right time, or he’ll hate me.
Who am I kidding? He might hate me anyway.
I put the bills into a pile and shove them into a desk drawer, where they’ll stay, mocking me, in the way I deserve. A stark reminder of what a fucking failure I am.
Can’t be a husband worth staying with.
Can’t save my mom.
Can’t even keep a bar running that was basically handed to me.
My life is a fucking mess.
I’ve never understoodthe sayingmisery loves company.Whoever came up with that must have confused misery with being a vindictive bitch, because when I’m miserable, I just want to be alone. There’s no one I want near me. Nothing can make it better. Just let me lie there in the aftermath of the chaos I caused.
I deserve to be this broken.
There’s nothing that can rid me of the feeling that came when I left. It’s there, staining every inch of my life. And no matter how happy I should be, those feelings don’t exist for me.
Not anymore.
