Page 25 of The Time It Takes
“Dean!” I call out. He stops and turns to face me as I stand up on my flimsy legs.
“Who’s the lucky woman?” I ask him, flashing my eyes toward his left hand.
A wide grin spreads across his face. His happiness is so genuine that it hurts. “Phoebe,” he tells me proudly, his smile unwavering.
I don’t hide the shock on my face. “What?”
He laughs at my stunned expression. “I know.” He seems unbelieving himself. “The woman snuck up on me like a heart attack.”
“I’m so happy for you both,” I say, ignoring the pain that comes with the realization I didn’t get invited to the wedding.
“Kids?” I ask.
I didn’t think he could smile any harder, but he does. “A four-year-old boy and one on the way.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I force my smile to match his. “That’s wonderful, Dean.”
It really is. Both the kids and my two friends finding forever in one another. They’ve built a life together. Pain splinters in my chest at knowing I have no part in it.
He descends a few more steps. “Give her a call sometime. Same number if you still have it. I’m sure she’d love to see you before you disappear on us again.”
I ignore the hit. I know he doesn’t mean any harm, but it all hurts the same. I only nod as he turns his back to me once more. I go to take a step toward him but stop myself. “You look good too,” I shout out to him. He turns his head. I can only see the side of his face as a playful smirk grows on my lips. “Beautiful even,” I finish.
He chuckles. “Don’t I know it.”
I’m smiling as I watch him disappear around the house. I’m smiling until I feel his absence like a fish would the sea. I’m smiling even as I feel my eyes brim with tears. I’m smiling because perhaps everything really will be okay.
Maybe I just need to see that despite my leaving in pieces, they’re still whole. The thought makes me feel a little lighter.
I gather my things and push through the door of my past. Without any second thoughts, I walk inside the house. I drag my suitcase behind me as I make my way up the stairs, not stopping to look around and reminisce. I head straight toward my old bedroom. I don’t pause before opening the door and closing it when I’m inside.
I hesitate as I catch a glimpse of the tattoo on the inside of my pinky. I walk into my bathroom and pull a band-aid from the cabinet. I wrap it around my finger and go back to pretending I’m not the thing I hate most in the world. Pretending I don’t hate everything that’s made me entirely what I am.
Everything looks the same, yet everything has changed.
I’m not sure how much of this reality I can take without drowning.
All I know is that I have to endure it for the girl I used to be.
Chapter Six
Present
Ineverfellasleep.
After Dean left, I spent the remainder of the night laying on my childhood bedroom floor staring at the ceiling fan. The entire time I thought about how my apartment in New York doesn’t have one. Out of all the things that were jumbled inside my head, that small detail took up most of my mind. For once I thought about New York and how it didn’t have a lot of things.
My thumb runs over the band-aid on my pinky finger absently as I glance around the room. Something cold grows in my chest because I can’t remember if this is how I left it or if someone’s been in here.
I eventually make my way down the creaky staircase and pause when I reach the end of the banister. I get my first good look at the living room. All the memories begin to rattle inside my head, making it hard to breathe.
It hurts too much to think that maybe I’ve been the only one to blame for this misery.
It feels like no one ever lived here at all, yet there are the small details that only I can see that prove otherwise. One of the cushions has a small dent in it from where Ben used to sit and play Xbox. My feet go to it on their own accord and then I’m sitting on it. I sink into it and trace my hand over the blue material. One of the legs on the coffee table is uneven from the time it broke when I stood on it. Oliver and I were playing a serious game of Floor is Lava—drinking addition. Two drunks attempting to super-glue a leg back onto a table was risky business.
I hit the coffee table with my toe, and it tilts. The corners of my mouth almost turn upward.
I hear a knock at the door and jolt to my feet. I make my way toward it but not before it starts to open. I’m greeted by a scowling Colleen, her eyebrows knitted tightly together. Underneath those brows were her seaweed-colored eyes. I don’t know why, but I stand there like a statue. I’d forgotten how much Oliver and her look alike. Her light blond hair curls softly past her shoulders and even with the most subtle amount of makeup, she’s stunning. Seeing her somehow hurts more than seeing Dean last night.
