Текст книги "Sweet Nothing"

Автор книги: Teresa Mummert

Соавторы: Jamie McGuire
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

“Daniel broke it to me that she was pregnant a month later.” I breathed out a laugh, still in disbelief. “We’d only spoken once since that night. Neither of us was interested in a relationship, but suddenly, we were attached for life. I never pressured her to get rid of it. I never even brought it up.”

Avery tightened my arms around her.

“I was a scared kid, sure, but never once did I try to sway her one way or the other. Daniel was dying to swoop in and be her savior, constantly offering his shoulder to cry on. I went to her first appointment, and then … I freaked. I needed space. She wanted me to be her rock, but I didn’t know how. We got into a huge fight. We both said things we didn’t mean. I left town for one night and turned off my phone.

“When I turned it on the next morning, she’d left me a message. She was going to a clinic. I tried to call her. I called her a dozen times, but she wouldn’t … she wouldn’t fucking answer,” I said, feeling suffocated by the memory. “I got stuck in traffic, and by the time I got there, she’d … she … it was over. It was done. She never spoke to me again.”

The room was so quiet it hurt.

“Avery?”

“I love you.”

My breathing faltered and my eyes burned. “There’s more.”

“I’ll still love you.”

I gritted my teeth, trying not to break down, and then told her everything about the day Kayla died, and everything after.

I spoke about my childhood and college and everything in between. Avery listened and loved me through it all. I talked until my voice felt like sandpaper, until I fell asleep with her in my arms.

When I woke, my hand roamed over cold, bare sheets. My heart sank at the sudden realization that I was alone.

Tossing off the comforter, I pulled on my jeans, tugging my shirt over my head. I nearly tripped while slipping on my sneakers. My legs wouldn’t move fast enough as I tried to hurry from my room. Once I reached the living room, I froze at the sound of Avery’s voice.

She hadn’t left me. I spun around to see Avery and my mother sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and chatting.

“Morning,” Avery called out to me. She pulled one of her knees to her chest before taking a sip from her mug. “I made coffee.”

I rubbed my hand hard against the back of my neck, struggling to process what was happening. Not only had Avery stayed, but she seemed to be having a pleasant conversation with my mother.

Walking across the room, I bent down and pressed my lips against her forehead, letting them linger for an extra second.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Better.” Her sweet smile put me more at ease.

I stood, glancing over at Mom. She looked everywhere but at me, trying to avoid eye contact. It was nice to know she hadn’t lost her conscience.

Grabbing a mug from the cupboard, I filled it with steaming coffee and sat next to Avery. She explained to my mother what she did for a living. As Avery described nursing school and her shifts in the ER, Mom listened intently and seemed to actually enjoy it.

It was hard to pay attention to their words as I watched Avery in awe, wondering what I had done to deserve someone so understanding.

We would be different on the way home … our home. The next step was to ask her to marry me. I just had to restrain myself from proposing the second we walked in the door.

An hour had passed since Quinn had radioed ahead that they were bringing a teenage boy in critical condition to St. Ann’s. When the ambulance arrived, Quinn and Deb pushed the stretcher through the ambulance bay doors. Josh was straddling the patient on the stretcher, chanting numbers as he counted chest compressions. I helped Deb with vitals as Dr. Rosenberg rushed in.

Forty minutes after the patient arrived, I reached up and grazed a cloth across Josh’s sweaty brow, noticing the green and red decorations on the ceiling.

“You need another break?” I asked, tending to the head wound.

Josh shook his head.

“You’ve only had one,” I said with labored breathing. Sweat had glued my bangs to my face, and the room was buzzing with organized chaos.

Josh refused to give up, still on the stretcher, using his entire upper body to help his arms ward off muscle fatigue.

“He’s gone,” Dr. Rosenberg said. “I’m calling it.”

“No, he’s not!” Josh said, continuing.

The ECG picked up a single sinus rhythm, and then another peak blinked on the monitor. Everyone froze.

Deb held her fingers to the teen’s neck. “No pulse."

“Resuming compressions,” Josh said, placing the heels of his hands in the proper position and working even harder. “He’s coming back. He’s gonna come back.”

“What are you doing, Josh?” Dr. Rosenberg asked. “It’s a GSW to the head.”

“It’s Christmas!” Josh snapped, panting. “He’s a fucking kid, and his mom’s waiting on us to come tell her he’s going to be okay!”

“Fine, one more,” the doctor said, pointing to me. “Epinephrine.”

I flicked the preloaded syringe twice and then stabbed the IV port with the needle, administering one milligram of epinephrine.

Josh continued compressions for three more minutes, and then Deb checked for pulse and rhythm.

Deb’s brows pulled together. “Asystole, Doctor.”

Josh leaned over the boy again, positioning his hands. “Resuming compressions.”

“Enough, Josh,” Dr. Rosenberg ordered.

The staff’s eyes bounced between Josh and the doctor.

Dr. Rosenberg yanked off his gloves. “Time of death, one twenty-two a.m.”

Josh’s jaws twitched under his skin. He’d heard the doctor, but ignored him and continued compressions.

I glanced at Dr. Rosenberg, worrying that if he felt like he’d lost control of his ER, Josh would lose his job.

I reached out and touched Josh’s arm, leaving a bloody handprint on his skin. “Josh, he’s gone. Enough.”

Josh leaned back on his knees, winded. Sweat poured from his hairline. He used his forearm to wipe his brow, smearing dark blood across his skin.

We all looked at the monitor, hoping for a miracle. Nothing but a flat line streamed across the monitor.

“Goddamn it! Stupid fucking kid!” Josh yelled.

“Josh,” I said, standing with my arms out to my side, my scrubs covered in blood.

Josh kicked the tray table, knocking it over, his eyes wild.

Everyone but me backed away. “Avery! Out!” I yelled.

Josh shouldered his way out of the room as the rest of the staff stood around the boy, just fourteen.

The X-ray tech backed out of the room with her portable machine, and the respiratory therapist followed. Deb printed out a final rhythm strip showing the flat line, and one by one, staff members removed tubes and began cleaning up the mess.

“I’ll go speak with the family,” Dr. Rosenberg said.

“Doctor,” I said, stopping him. “Might want to change first.”

He looked down, noted the mess on his coat, and then nodded.

“I’ll finish up,” Deb said.

I pulled off my shoe covers and gloves and nodded to her, wiping my face with the back of my wrist. I walked out of the room, down the hall, and turned the corner, looking for Josh. He was sitting on the break room floor, his back against the wall.

I knelt in front of him. “You can’t do that.”

“I know,” he growled.

“Look at me,” I said. His head snapped up. “You can’t pull that in my ER, understand?”

His shoulders fell and he looked away, nodding. His jaw shifted to the side. “I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s … it’s fucking Christmas. He blew his brains all over the Christmas tree with his mom’s new pistol.”

“I know,” I said, wishing I could say something more comforting, but there was nothing rational about what had happened to that child.

He wiped his wet cheek and sucked in a breath, his face crumbling. “I feel like a fucking pussy.”

“It’s okay. Everyone deals differently.”

“Baby,” he said, reaching out to wipe my face.

I leaned away from him. “I’ve got it. I’m going to get cleaned up. Make sure you debrief at the station.”

I stood, looking down at the large crimson splotches on my scrubs.

“Yeah?” I confirmed.

He nodded again, indignant. “Yeah, yeah, all right.”

“See you at home.”

Josh’s bottom lip trembled for a moment, and then he sniffed, stood, and shook it off.

We all had our reasons for doing this kind of work. Josh’s compassion ran deeper than even he knew. He didn’t do it for the money or the glory. We had shitty hours and even shittier pay, but at the end of the day, Josh could go to bed knowing he had helped someone, and for him, there were few things more important than that.

The women’s locker room was decorated in cheap red and green decorations. Most of the lockers bore pictures of the nurses’ children or nieces and nephews. Mine was empty but for one black and white photo of Josh and me at Quinn’s mom’s house on Thanksgiving. I walked past the lockers and into the bathroom, pulling my scrub top over my head and tossing it into the red biohazard box.

In the mirror, I noticed dark spatters and smears on my face, and the blood that had bled through to my sports bra.

My eyes stared back at me, dull green with dark circles underneath. Pieces of blonde hair had fallen from my ponytail. The rest of the staff was a mess, too. We had all worked hard the last hour to save that boy, but sometimes, no matter what we did, we couldn’t fix everyone. Not even Josh.

I pulled off my scrub bottoms and then turned on the faucet, watching the sink turn red while I washed my face and arms. I dried off, feeling the weight of disappointment and heartbreak, knowing not even a fraction of what I was feeling could be compared to the loss felt by the boy’s mother.

I gripped the sink, choking out a cry. After that first sob, my entire body shook, and I gave myself five minutes to grieve for the boy I never knew. My watch counted down the minutes, and then I washed my face again and dressed in fresh scrubs, ready to do my best to help the next person in need.

Michaels pushed through the door, her eyes puffy and red. “Good work, Jacobs.”

“Thanks,” I said, unable to make eye contact. I walked past the room, the doors closed and family present. Just as the mother began to wail, I grabbed another chart and pushed through the double doors to the waiting room. “Charles?” I called and smiled as a woman pushed her elderly husband’s wheelchair toward me.

Josh was waiting for me after my shift. He stood, still in his navy-blue T-shirt with the white logo and navy-blue cargo pants, bundled in a matching puffy coat. He pulled his ball cap low over his eyes, huffing out a cloud of crisp air when I approached.

“Hey,” I said, crossing my arms over my middle. “How long have you been out here?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I had Quinn drop me after we clocked out. Risking sounding like a huge vag again, I didn’t want to be at the apartment alone.”

I slipped my arms under his, pressing my cheek against his chest. The strong scent of whiskey assaulted my nose. I leaned back. “How many?”

“Just one, after work. It wasn’t even my stash, it was Quinn’s.” He smiled and then shrugged when I didn’t respond. “It’s fucking cold out here.”

I pulled out my keys. “Let’s go home.”

Josh opened the driver side door for me and swept his arm toward the seat. I smiled, sat, and then leaned across the seat to open his door.

He sat, rubbing his gloves together while I attempted to start the car. It whirred three times but didn’t start.

“Shit,” I groaned, slapping my palms against the steering wheel.

“Try it again. She’s just cold. Don’t pump the gas. Let her turn over a few times and then stomp it to the floor.”

I did as Josh instructed, and the Dodge started right up, blasting icy air from the vents. I breathed out a sigh of relief and then turned to him, smiling. “Brilliant. You’re brilliant.”

Josh scrambled to turn off the fan and then rubbed his gloves on his thighs. “Home, baby! Shit, it’s cold!”

I giggled, shifting the car into gear, pulling out of the parking lot, and making my way to the highway. Traffic was ridiculous, with last-minute holiday travelers. The Dodge inched forward, and I shook my head. “It was bad enough that we both had to work on Christmas. I just wanna get home already.”

“At least the heater’s working,” Josh said, patting my knee and forcing a smile.

“It was a bad night,” I said.

Josh nodded, somber. “I’m sorry I yelled. And kicked over the instrument table. And stormed out.”

“Deb said she’s seen doctors do the same thing. Doctors who give a shit. Not Doc Rose,” I qualified.

Josh grinned at me. “You called him Doc Rose.”

“So? You call him Doc Rose.”

“As an insult. I’ve never heard you say it before.”

I shrugged. “It fits.”

“Do they still call me McPanties?”

“No. At least, not to my face.”

Josh chuckled and leaned back. “One more mile ‘til our exit. Sweet baby Jesus owes us a Christmas miracle.”

“It’s our first Christmas together,” I said, smiling at him.

“It’s our second Christmas together. Knowing now that we had to work, I’m patting my back for the first one.”

“You should. It was perfect.”

“I have something up my sleeve for this one, too. Don’t you worry, baby.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“You’ll see,” he said, his grin growing wider with every foot we rolled forward.

Twenty minutes later, we reached our exit, and I pulled off. It only took another ten to reach our apartment building, and I parked behind Josh’s Barracuda.

He hooked his arm around my neck, pulling my hair against his lips. “Are you excited?”

“I can tell that you are,” I teased, bumping him with my hip while he unlocked the door. He chased me up the stairs, and then we paused in the hallway, panting and smiling.

He unlocked our door and I pushed him in. After saying hello to our furbaby and giving him a Christmas treat, Josh walked over to the Christmas tree and plugged in the lights, standing to face me. The rest of the apartment was dark, adding to the magical feel.

“Is it lame that it isn’t technically Christmas anymore?” he asked.

“It’s still Christmas in California,” I said.

He looked at his watch. “No, no it’s not. But we can pretend.”

I flitted to the tree, sitting on the floor with my legs crossed. Josh sat next to me, handing me the first present. “You first.” He ruffled the dog’s hair, pure exhilaration in his eyes.

“Then you, right?”

“As you wish.”

I giggled while I tore open the orange paper with green spiders. “Spiders?” I asked.

“It’s one of the things on your list.” He winked, and my heart melted at how thoughtful he was, and how much effort he still put into fixing our memories.

I peeled back the paper to reveal a cardboard box stamped Amazon. “Books?” I asked. He didn’t answer, so I lifted off the top of the box, looking closer. There was another box, this one smaller. I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Just open it,” he said with a smile, taking a deep breath.

I opened one side and then pulled out clear plastic packaging. I looked up at him with a smile. “It’s a watch!”

“It’s not just a watch. Google says it’s the number one nurse’s watch. It has antimicrobial bands and backing, and the numbers and hands glow in the dark!”

“Ooh!” I said, squinting.

He grabbed it out of my hands and gave me another. “Next.”

I set it down and pulled one of his presents from under the tree. “Your turn.”

I wrinkled my nose and smiled as he tore open the paper, not nearly as daintily as I had. He held it up with a huge grin. “It’s a watch!”

I cackled. “Not just a watch. It’s a freaking Rolex!”

“Baby.” He shook his head. “It’s too much.”

“I saved. We’re good.”

He grabbed each side of my face and planted a firm kiss on my lips. “We really were made for each other. Open yours. I’m dying here.”

“This is fun, isn’t it?” I said, wiggling with anticipation. I picked up the box he gave me and opened it. I looked up at him, confused. “What is it?”

He smiled.

“Is this a joke I’m not getting? It’s empty.”

He reached over, plugging in another extension cord. The rest of house lit up. The doors, windows, and even the floorboards were aglow in every color of the rainbow.

He tapped his phone, and our song began playing from a speaker across the room.

I clapped. “Ah! I love it!”

“That present isn’t actually yours,” he said. “I just didn’t have the heart to tell you.”

“It’s not?”

He shook his head. “It’s the dog’s. I got him a new collar.”

“You did?” I squealed, looking out our baby’s new bling. Something scratched my hand, and I turned the collar. “A new tag, too?”

“No.” Josh chuckled. “Not a tag.”

I tugged on it gently, and the whole collar came loose. “Oh, no!” I panicked until I saw the gold band with the small but perfect princess cut diamond between my fingers. “Oh, my Go—Josh?”

“Avery Jacobs,” he said, shifting to get on one knee.

“Oh, my God,” I breathed, unable to say anything else.

“I …” he blinked. “I had this all planned out, and my mind just went blank.” He laughed and then rubbed the back of his neck.

I laughed and covered my mouth with one hand. “Josh!”

“I’m so damn nervous. To hell with it, Avery … Will you marry me?”

I stared at him, unable to move, unable to speak without sobbing.

“I know it’s too soon. I tried to wait, I swear to God, but … I love you more than anything, Avery. I mean that. More than anything. I haven’t been able to think about anything else but putting a ring on your finger.”

I threw my arms around him, tears streaming.

“Is that a … is that a yes?” he asked while Dee jumped on his back.

“Yes!” I said, leaning back. “Yes.”

Josh slipped the band on my finger while I wiped my cheek with the other hand.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he said, using his thumb to wipe my eyes.

“I love you so much,” I said, sniffing. “I’m just so happy that you love me. And … I’m going to be Avery Avery.”

I meant for it to be funny, but he scanned my face in pure adoration. He took my cheeks in his hands, shook his head, and sighed. “The words just don’t seem enough anymore.” He pressed his lips to mine, kissing me under a thousand twinkling lights. At last.

Long after the last flake of snow had melted and the final patch of ice had evaporated into nothingness, Avery was still struggling to plan the perfect wedding. Our schedules never seemed to let up, making nailing down the details difficult. Avery insisted on a summer wedding, wanting to wear her dress without shivering. I just wanted to be able to call her my wife—mine.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I tossed the estimate for the cake onto the kitchen table. “This is ridiculous, babe. No cake is that good.”

Avery stood in front of the stove, the morning sun pouring in the through the window and casting a glow over her hair. “I’ve tasted her cakes. They’re good, but it’s not so much about the cake as the appearance.”

“We can just have our reception down at Corner Hole.”

She turned to face me from the stove, a spatula her weapon of choice. “You want to have our wedding reception at a dive bar?”

“A dive what? That’s blasphemy! You love Corner Hole.”

“Yeah, baby. I love it for an after work drink and to unwind. Not the place to celebrate the rest of our lives together. They don’t even serve food.”

“We can order from JayWok.”

“JayWok?” Her eyes threatened to pop out of her skull. “You want Japanese takeout for our wedding? Really, Josh?”

“Another thing you love. Now it’s not good enough? Who are you trying to impress? This day is supposed to be about us. No one else.” I pushed up from my seat at the table and wrapped my arms around her waist from behind.

She shoved the scrambled eggs around the pan. “I’m sorry.” She sighed as her shoulders sagged. “I don’t know what this wedding has done to me. I’ve never cared about any of this kind of stuff. I just … It’s an important day. Our day, about us and the beginning of our marriage. I want it to be perfect.”

Pushing her hair over her right shoulder, I pressed my lips to the back of her neck. “It will be perfect. Going into debt over a cake is not a good way to start our forever.”

She sniffed once. “I would just hate to let anyone down, and—”

“What asshole is going to be let down by our wedding? You’re too stressed out, baby. What can I do to fix it? Let me help.” I turned her around to face me, wrapping my arms around her waist. She tucked her face into the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply.

She shook her head, her whining muffled against my skin. “You can’t fix this.”

“I can fix anything.”

“I don’t have anyone to walk me down the aisle, Josh,” she confessed. “How are you going to fix that?”

I squeezed her tighter, hating that the best day of our lives had opened old wounds.

“Let me handle it.”

“What?” she asked as she pulled back, eyeing me.

“You said you would hate to disappoint everyone. Put it on the list. I’ll take care of it. Just like our dates.”

“No.” She began to shake her head slowly, uncertain. “You can’t ask some random person to give me away at our wedding.”

“I want to. Let me do this. You’ve been working so hard at everything else.”

Her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she slowly bit down, unsure.

I placed my hands on either side of her face, looking her in the eye. “Please. I want to do this.”

She nodded as I pressed my lips to her forehead.

The sizzling in the frying pan snapped us from our tender moment as Avery whipped around to take the pan from the burner.

“Damn it,” she yelled as the pan clattered on the counter. She rushed to the sink and pushed on the cold water, soothing her burnt hand under the stream.

“Jesus Christ, Avery!” I grabbed her hand, stretching out her palm so I could inspect it. The pink outline of the handle on her skin was already beginning to fade.

“Doesn’t look too bad,” I said, offering an encouraging smile.

Groaning, she looked up at me with her bottom lip jutting out. “I give up. I am going back to bed and will try again tomorrow.”

“Hey.” Rubbing the pad of my thumb over her lip, I pulled her back against me. “It’s going to be all right. I promise.”

Her head moved against me as she nodded.

“Go ahead. I’ll finish up the eggs and bring them in to you, and we can both spend the day in bed.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“I didn’t say what it is we’ll be doing while we’re in bed.” I patted her ass as she walked away.

She stopped in the doorway, a sexy grin on her lips. “Like I said, you’re too good to me.”

I’d spent the last two weeks doing my part, booking plane tickets and finalizing time off work. Even a simple wedding took some time to figure out. I still wanted our day to be special, regardless of how simple it was.

Avery didn’t seem as stressed, but she’d stopped discussing the wedding. Every day, I worried more that she was having second thoughts.

“I said no, tit bag. Quit worrying,” Deb said.

I pressed the phone closer to my ear. “Don’t fuck with me. This is important.”

“You know, I used to like you. Back when you were cool. Now you’re like a weepy vagina all the time and trust me, those aren’t fun. I miss when you were fun, Josh.”

“Double D!” Quinn called in the background. “Get your hot ass in here!”

I rolled my eyes. “Can’t you be serious, Deb? Just this one time? It’s important.”

She was quiet for a moment. “No. Can I go now? Your bestie wants a post-dinner hand job.”

“Christ. Bye,” I said, poking END and dropping my phone in my lap. I covered my face and groaned.

A noise across the room prompted me to look up. Avery was in her scrubs, leaning against the kitchen doorframe with her arms folded over her chest.

“Hi.”

I did my best to pretend I didn’t want to choke out her friend. “Hi, baby.”

She hesitated. “Who was that?”

“Just last-minute plans for the wedding.”

She nodded but didn’t say anything.

“Is something wrong?”

She shrugged, pushing from the door and walking to the fridge. “I just thought we were going to elope … quick and dirty. Now you’re on the phone all the time, but I don’t feel like there’s been a lot of progress.”

“Baby, it’s only been a few weeks. I had to get some things together, but it is almost there.”

“A few weeks? Do you know what today is?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Cinco de Mayo?”

“It’s May, Josh. You chose June. You wanted to take over the planning because you felt it was too stressful for me. Now you’re dragging your feet.”

“Avery,” I chided. I cleared my throat. My exasperation with Deb was bleeding into our conversation. “What is going on? First it was all happening too quickly and now it’s not fast enough. I’m trying.”

“Are you stalling?” She turned around slowly, a tear slipping down over the apple of her cheek. “Because you don’t have to do that. You can talk to me.”

She touched the penny at her neck, and I panicked and pointed at her. “Don’t walk out on me.”

She blinked. “I wasn’t … I … was going to offer it to you. For your thoughts. Just asking doesn’t work as well anymore.”

I sighed. “We definitely need to talk. I can’t keep wondering, but I don’t want to upset you.”

“About what?” she asked, shifting her weight.

“I’m nervous.”

Her face fell. “About marrying me.” It wasn’t a question. She said the words as if she’d expected everything I was saying.

“No. Absolutely not,” I said, walking over to her. I held her arms in my hands. “You’ve been quiet. You clam up when I ask you about the wedding. I’m okay. I don’t want to wait, but if you do, I will.”

She shook her head.

“You don’t want to wait?” I asked, nearly allowing myself relief.

“There’s been talk at work,” she said, biting her lip.

“Talk? What kind of talk?”

“Michaels mentioned she saw you at Corner Hole the other night when you said you were at work. She didn’t say it to me. Deb overheard her telling someone else.”

I blinked. “I was.”

She looked up at me. “I texted you fifteen minutes before you got home. You said you were driving home from work.”

My mouth pulled to the side. Fuck. “I wasn’t trying to lie. I didn’t even think about it until now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going by the bar after work?”

I shrugged. “You’ve never needed me to before.”

She thought about that a moment. “Were you with a girl? A blonde?”

“No,” I said, inwardly cringing. Going to Corner Hole was stupid.

“Avery,” I said, squaring my feet, lowering my chin until she met my eyes. “I want to be with you, more than anything. There is no one else, I swear to God. There will never be anyone else but you. You’re just going to have to trust me.”

She hesitated, looking to the floor. I held my breath

“Is there something else?” I asked, a million horrible thoughts racking my brain.

“I hear you talking to her on the phone at night.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but I heard it loud and clear over the hammering of my heart.

“What?” My head turned to the side to hear her more clearly, wondering if I’d dreamed it.

“I wasn’t trying to catch you or anything. I just woke up.”

I shrugged, trying to play it off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, baby.”

Disappointment shadowed her face. She watched me for a long time. “Is that your answer?”

“I don’t have an answer. You know I’ve been making wedding plans. I told you I’d take care of it, and I meant it. That’s the truth.”

“I’m going to bed,” she said, passing me for the bedroom.

“Baby.” I reached out to her, but missed. “Aren’t you hungry?” I called.

“I’m not hungry,” she said from the bathroom. She closed the door, the light forming a halo around the edges.

I walked into our dark bedroom, standing alone. Frames holding pictures of us that we’d taken over the last year were scattered around the room, on the nightstands, and the corner table where I kept my emergency stash. Avery’s apartment didn’t have room for the hutch, so I sold it. Now I wondered if I should have found a smaller, locking chest. Opening a drawer was too easy.

The shower turned on, and I sat on the bed. I was stuck between telling her the truth to shield her from her imagination, and ruining everything.

I opened the door, seeing her perfect, naked silhouette blurred by the glacier glass. She kept her head under the water, letting it cascade over the hands that covered her face.

I had to tell her.

“Avery,” I said, reaching for the door.

“Please don’t,” she said.

“We need to talk.”

“No. I just want to stand in my shower and process everything.”

“I can fix this.”

She was quiet for a moment, and then she yelled. “Has it ever occurred to you that I don’t want you to fix everything? Maybe I just want it to be right and good in the first place! Maybe I don’t want something that has to be fixed!”

I stood with my mouth open. She’d never yelled at me before.

“O … okay,” I stammered. “I’m sorry. I’ll, uh … I’ll leave you alone.”

“Great,” she snapped.

I backed out, closing the door, and then kicked off my shoes. The clock glowed in the dark bedroom. I had to be to work in five hours and had no fucking clue how I was going to sleep. I peeled off my shirt and jeans, crawling under the covers in my boxer briefs.

The shower turned off, and Avery went through her nightly routine. The door opened, and she fell into the bed, yanking on the covers and turning her back to me. Her wet hair slapped against the pillow, and she let out a long sigh.

We lay in silence for a while, and then I reached back for her, touching my fingertips to her hip. “I can’t leave. I’m afraid you’re going to change the locks tomorrow and have all my shit laying on the sidewalk.”

She didn’t respond.

“I swear to God, I’ve never cheated on you. I’ve never wanted to. Don’t you know how much I love you?”

She sniffed. “Something doesn’t feel right, Josh. I’ve felt this way for a while. I don’t know what it is. Don’t you feel it?”

“Sometimes,” I said, trailing off. I thought about the times when I had to stop and take in the reality around me. Sometimes, sitting with Quinn, it felt like talking to a stranger. Some days I felt like I was at work, but most of my time between moments with Avery were just a blur. “You loving me has always been … I dunno, a surreal thing to me. But that doesn’t mean it’s not right.”

She sucked in a breath through her nose. She was crying now. I turned over. “Avery,” I said, wrapping my arms around her body.

She pulled her knees against her chest. “Just don’t lie to me. Ever.”

“Can you think of anything that would warrant me risking the most important person in my life?”

“Stress does weird things to the best people. Look at Dr. Rosenberg.”

I pushed up on my elbow, looking down at her. Her cheeks were wet. “I used to want to be like him, but that was only because of the way you looked at him. I don’t wanna be anything like him, Avery. I’m going to cherish every second I have with you, and our kids, and our grandkids. We’re going to grow old together, and I’ll look back on all of this and know I honored what we had.”