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My heart picks up a beat. So, he is here watching me from somewhere in the room because he just can’t help himself. I shove my phone back in my pocket, ignoring his last comment. Purposely, I turn to face the guy and start up a conversation. He’s nice, offering to buy me a drink, then asks if I want to dance.
Sure, what do I have to lose?
My husband is gone.
My marriage has ended.
The music is blaring as a local band plays Bon Jovi, settling for a rendition of ‘Always.’ Around me, the crowd sings loudly, swaying their glasses of liquor in the air without a care in the world.
Eric is the loudest, the diva excels on karaoke nights with his over-dramatic expressions and attempts at high notes. The guy beside me pulls me onto the dance floor, wrapping his arm around my waist.
We sway along, but despite the need to get Lex back for his hurtful words, everything about this feels wrong.
But Lex doesn’t care.
He no longer loves me.
I place my hand on the guy’s shoulder, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “I need a drink.”
Pulling away, I walk back toward the bar where Eric has stopped singing and is on his phone trying to type a text. Biting his lip, he lifts his head drawing his eyebrows as he notices me.
“We need to go, Charlie, like now.”
I laugh, it is only the beginning of the night, and I have no plans to go back to an empty house. This is very unlike Eric to want to leave early unless Lex texted him.
Of course.
“You know what? You can go. I’m perfectly fine here, plus…” I point to the guy walking back toward me, “… I’ve got a new friend to hang out with. If Lex is that worried, he would have dragged me home by now. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get another drink.”
I call for the bartender, and when he comes over, I order a tray of shots for the folks around me.
One.
Two.
Three.
Throwing them back, I begin to feel better about my newfound freedom with the desperate need to dance. The room begins to spin, the music fades away. My body erupts into laughter until my feet give away, and I fall into a pair of arms.
I mumble words, something about being ‘married’ and ‘pussy’ until the cold air graces my face, and all I can see is black.
LEX
She still sits in the same spot I left her in last night, against the windowpane staring out to the backyard. The plate of food I left beside her remains untouched.
The house is eerily quiet, my mother has taken Andy for a few days to give Adriana some time to sleep, but she doesn’t.
The same nightmare plays over and over in my head, the screams that echoed down the hospital hall as the monitor beeps increased in pitch, and the doctors rushed in, the sign he was finally gone.
When his casket was lowered into the ground, I held onto my sister who stood perfectly still. I knew I was losing her too, the grief insurmountable, and not once did she speak nor did she shed a tear. She was catatonic. It frightened me that the once-bright future ahead was now unknown. I prayed every night she would pull out of this coma. I couldn’t lose my sister. She’s my blood, my family, and I wanted to shield her from the pain. I wanted the old, annoying Adriana back, faults and all. I wanted her to tell me ridiculous jokes only to laugh before she reaches the punchline, the kind only she finds funny.
Most importantly, I want her to be a mother to this little miracle who defied all odds to make it into this world. If I were honest, that’s what hurt me the most—watching her son grow more and more each day. To witness him not being embraced by his own mother. It wasn’t her fault—she had to deal with this in her own way. She lost the love of her life, and I couldn’t conceptualize her pain, not in a million years. Nor do I wish it upon me, and with this decided, I do the unthinkable, I find myself pulling away from Charlotte.
At the funeral, Charlotte placed her hand on my forearm, and I felt my body instantly recoil. She pulled away, the hurt in her eyes cutting me deep.
It’s my way of dealing with the grief, I’m crippled inside, and love becomes a foreign concept.
Why do we love when in the end, it’s taken from us, and we are left to die a slow death?
