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“Her name’s Gracie. After you, of course. Jeanette Grace. Wish you were here. Thanks for keeping an eye on us still. Gracie, no!” The sound rumbles, like her phone falling and there’s a giggle before the message ends.
I collapse to the floor as the tears start, the memories jagged as they rip through me, causing me true, physical pain at everything I’ve lost.
At whom I lost.
Another beep and another message, this time staring with laughter.
“No! I’m calling your mom!” Stella’s voice says, and in the background, there’s my voice laughing, “What!?” Before she laughs again. “I do this! Leave me be, Riggins Greene. Sorry, hey Jeanette! It’s me! Guess what!? I’m officially your daughter! Well, in law. We got married! It was very last minute, and no one knows yet, but… god. I’m so damn happy. Wish you were here.”
It cuts off abruptly, but I don’t even care.
Because all I can hear is,We got married!
We got married…
We got married?
We. Got. Married.
I hit back, listening again and, this time, paying attention to the date.
I look back, try and think of where the band was that date, to figure out what happened and why I don’t remember, but I know.
It’s Vegas, the day before she left me.
I let the machine play the next and final message.
“Hey, Jeanette.” It slices through me, the sadness, the hoarseness of her voice. She’s destroyed. The contrast between this and the previous message is actually painful. “Uhm, I, uh… god. I don’t know. I won’t be calling you again. He lied. He lied, and I don’t even know what to do anymore. I’m so sorry. I thought I... I don’t know. I thought we’d be okay. But I can’t do this to myself anymore. I can’t let him do it to me either. I love you, Jeanette. And I love him. But I can’t do this.”
The message cuts off on a sob.
Suddenly, without warning, the morning I had torn apart a million times before comes back to me in a new light.
Waking up in the fancy hotel room with Stella, wondering why the fuck we paid so much for the lover’s suite. The headache I had, the urge to find a drink as soon as I woke. The wide smile on her face.
“Good morning, husband,” she had said, her eyes soft as she brushed my hair back from my face, looking at me like I was her entire fucking world.
And I threw her away.
49 GODLIGHT
NOW
STELLA
We spend five days in Maine. Five perfect, peaceful, healing days. We hike, and we lay under the stars, and we talk, and we laugh, and we fuck. But most importantly, we write.
God, we write. We write and it’s natural and beautiful and it heals a part of me I thought was destined to be shattered for life.
But like all good things, it too, comes to an end. Reality comes knocking at our door when we have to make our way back to Ashford because Riggins has a meeting in New York in three days he can’t put off any longer. Turns out, he’s been putting it off for weeks, doing his best not to leave Ashford in order to be as close to me as possible.
Just in case, he said.
Just in case I needed him.
Just in case I changed my mind.
“I don’t want to leave,” I whisper, standing outside the cabin as he locks up behind him. It’s deceptively large inside, with a primary bathroom, two bathrooms, a small but cozy kitchen-living room combo, and two extra, small bedrooms.
