Her words hit home, and quite frankly, I don’t think I can take one more pep talk from my friends. I know they mean well, but I don’t need to be reminded of what I’m losing. I know all too well.
I smile graciously and stand. I lean in and hug Caroline, staying in her arms a little longer, squeezing a little tighter.
“Thank you, Caroline. I appreciate the advice.” I walk to the doorway and turn with a smile. “Lock you in?”
She presses her lips together and shakes her head. She sees right through me. “Sure, Cece. That will be fine.”
“Good night.”
As I walk to my car, I’m flooded with thoughts of first loves, last loves, and true happiness. Before all of these new feelings, before Cain, I felt content in my life. I cared for my patients and helped them lead fuller lives. I made a makeshift family with friends I adore. I made the most of what little time I had with Lucas. It was enough.
But now, in the wake of greatness, those things seem less fulfilling, less satisfying, just … less.
I have to come to terms with my new old life. Patients, family, and Lucas will fuel my days, and the occasional glimpses of Cain will feed my heart and soul. It will be enough.
Because it has to be.
“Where I Stood” by Missy Higgins
Present Day
I PULL INTO the driveway, and my heart stutters at the sight of Cain’s truck parked in Adam’s driveway. It’s been too long since I’ve seen him. I crave him, even if it’s just for a moment, even if I know the aftermath will be crippling. A small reprieve from the constant ache is worth the hurt I’ll endure later.
I walk to my mailbox at a snail’s pace, hoping he’ll step out of the house. I flip through the mail and mentally fist pump when I see Adam’s electricity bill in my mail pile. Now I have a reason to walk next door—it’s fate, really.
There’s pep in my step as I cross the yard, and I hum to myself with a silly smile plastered on my face. I tap three times on the screen door before peeking my head in.
“Adam? Sara?”
Sara flies through the kitchen door, her eyes wide and her mouth shaped in an “O.” I giggle at her surprised look and bound through the screen door.
“Hey girl, I come bearing mail,” I sing-song, waving the envelope in front of me and walking farther into the kitchen.
“Oh, thank you.” She grabs the envelope from me and walks toward the door. “I’ll be sure to give it to Adam.”
She stands in front of the door and opens it, and if I didn’t know better, I swear she’s trying to get rid of me. I eye her suspiciously and wait for another explanation, but she remains silent.
“Sara, can I grab another beer for—oh, hello.”
Sara visibly tenses as I turn around and check out the new voice in the room. Her appearance matches the screechy quality of her voice. She’s pretty enough, but all of her features are a bit … larger than life. Hair blacker than nature intended, lips much too big for the face they inhabit, and boobs pointy enough to give Madonna a run for her money. I snap out of my rude and judgmental daze and offer her my hand in greeting. If she’s a friend of Sara’s, I’m sure she’s a sweetheart, and I instantly feel guilty for my silent insults.
“Hi, I’m so sorry to interrupt. I’m just being neighborly and dropping off some mail that was delivered to my house in error. I’m Celia, by the way.” She takes my hand and gives it a limp shake before wiping it on her stretched-to-the-limit skinny jeans.
“Kimberly,” she offers with a curt smile. Her attention reverts back to Sara, making me feel a like a child who’s been dismissed. “I wanted to grab another beer for the boys.”
For the boys?
“No time for beer, babe, the movie starts in twenty.” His voice booms from the living room. While Kimberly’s face lights up with a smile, the breath is robbed from my lungs.
Cain rounds the corner into the kitchen and wraps his hand around the back of Kimberly’s neck. “You know my favorite part of the movie is the pre—”
Cain looks as horrified as I feel, but it does little to comfort me. My fingernails dig into the palm of my hand as try to erase the image in front of me. I want to wipe it away, along with the gaping hole in my gut.
Kimberly looks back and forth between Cain and me, visibly adding up the situation, and looking less than pleased with what she finds. She wraps a territorial arm around Cain’s waist and smirks.
“I’m just gonna …” I mumble softly as I stumble to the door.
The house is eerily quiet as my footsteps echo through the room. The screeching of the screen door pierces the silence, making my ears nearly bleed. I grip the porch railing as I lower my heavy feet one by one down the steps. When Sara calls my name from the doorway, I turn and face her. I notice the pity in her eyes, and it doesn’t come close to matching the intense pain in my heart.
“I’ll stop by later, okay?” She gives me a sad smile and shrugs.
“No, it’s getting late, and I’ll be heading to bed soon,” I say, ignoring the setting sun warming my face, saying it’s way too early for bed. I call out a hasty goodbye as I run to my door and fumble with the lock.
Hurry up. Hurry up. Hurry up.
The key thankfully turns just as the first tear falls. I push through the door and slam it shut. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to keep the tears in and push out the image of Kimberly and Cain. My back slides down the door, and I lay my heavy head on my bent knees. The silent tears slide down my cheeks without much fanfare, as if my body refuses to give in to the act of crying. The tears may come, but I refuse to take part in them.
Car doors and laughter filter through the door, and I punish myself by picturing their cozy double date. Tubs of popcorn, shared sodas, a terrifying horror flick that will have Kimberly jumping into Cain’s lap. I smirk at the thought of her splitting her painted-on jeans or her pointy boob poking out Cain’s eye.
Eddie pads into the kitchen and winds her way through my legs, purring softly. I lower my knees and help her into my lap. She kneads her paws in my belly as the sound of vehicles fades into the distance.
“We’ll get through this, Eddie. I promise, we will,” I whisper, hoping I can convince myself in the process. “He deserves to be happy, even if it’s not with me.”
“Between the Lines” by Sara Bareilles
Present Day
INFECTIOUS GIGGLES FILL the kitchen as I wrangle Lily and Gage and fill the silver platter with mini quiches. A flustered Adam takes in the hectic scene with frantic eyes. Lily tugs the furry tail peeking out of Gage’s dress pants, and he pulls the ribbon of her dress, trying to unravel her perfectly tied pink bow. Dressed impeccably for the special night, they remind me of mischievous angels.
“You got this, Celia? Everything has to be perfect.” His nerves are radiating off him, turning the cheerful tone of the room.
I pull a peony out of the crystal vase on the edge of the counter and slap him on the head without ever looking up from my task.