Love, Always (18 page)

Three months? Shocked, I pull away from him and watch his mouth continue to move as he talks about his wedding day. He doesn’t look particularly happy or excited. In fact, he doesn’t look anything like the Adam I saw two months ago. There’s an emptiness that surrounds him that never existed before.

I want to touch him, soothe him, talk to him, but I am afraid of where that will lead. He still loves me. I know it to be true, but I can’t offer him something I’m too afraid to unleash. So he’s settling and thereby punishing us both.

“We should celebrate,” I say, interrupting whatever Adam had been saying. “I don’t have wine or champagne or anything.” I shrug. Hayley and I kinda emptied out my stock.

“I’ll go buy some.” Adam kisses me lightly on my forehead, and I feel the heat from his lips linger there long after he’s left on the search for some wine.

Eventually I find the strength to go back into my condo where I find Amber smirking at me. She’s won; she knows she’s won, but Adam’s heart was never a pawn in any games.

“Don’t hurt him,” I tell her, picking up Josie to give her a bottle of juice.

“Right.” She nods her head, still smiling at me. What I’d give to wipe that smile off her face. “Hurting him is your department. I’m just here to pick up the pieces.”

“I never meant to hurt him.” Anger at her words boils inside of me, and I want to lash out at her for speaking the truth.

She laughs at me, but I hear no humor in her laughter. “I should actually thank you. I’d been trying to get Adam into bed, but couldn’t figure out how. Until you broke him.”

I stare at her, replaying her words in my head, and the anger turns into outrage when I realize there’s no love in her words.

“Do you love him?” I ask, hoping she’ll say yes.

She cocks an eyebrow at me as if I were some naïve little child that believed in fairy tales and happily ever afters.

“Love?” she asks. “I love being with him.” She winks at me. “That’s enough for him.”

“It’s not enough!”

“It’s more than you gave him.” I watch her sit on my couch, crossing her legs as her smile spreads on her face.

“He deserves more.”

Again Amber laughs at me, so I put Josie in her highchair in case I’m overcome with the desire to tackle Amber to the ground and hopefully break a few of her pretty little bones. Amber watches me as I pace the room and I realize that as usual I’m the crazed lunatic in the room. I purposely take out one of my dining room chairs and sit next to Josie, but my feet start to twitch and I find it impossible to stop them.

“I don’t see what Adam sees in you,” Amber says sweetly.

Neither do I.

“Apparently he has poor taste in women,” I bite back.

“Here’s the deal, sweetie,” she says, walking over to me. “You had your chance with Adam and you missed out because you were too busy boo-hooing over your dead boyfriend. He’s moved on. He wants me now.”

“He doesn’t want you.” I glare at Amber and find satisfaction when her face flushes to an unnaturally red color.

Feeling as if I finally have the upper hand in our conversation, I grip Amber’s arms hard, hoping I’ll leave a mark.

“He doesn’t want you. He wants me.” I nod my head, knowing I’m right. “Don’t hurt him or you’ll have to deal with me, and we both know I’m not all that mentally stable.” Now it’s my turn to smile sweetly into Amber’s shocked face.

I turn my grip into an embrace when I hear Adam open the door and smile back at him when he walks into the door.

“Everything okay?” he asks, and Amber nods her head.

“Just getting to know each other better.” I open Adam’s wine, trying to feel festive for a wedding everyone in the room knows is wrong.

One year is quickly approaching, and I’m seriously contemplating institutionalizing myself yet again. I feel as if I’m losing my mind, very literally losing it. I’ve gone through all the firsts without him, although experiencing my first birthday without Josh was by far the worst. But the upcoming one year anniversary of his death has sent me reeling.

I can barely go a day without having a major panic attack. I see my yoga instructor every day, but no amount of breathing exercises helps me. It’s like I’ve gone back in time and am mentally trapped on the day of his death.

Every night I see myself screaming his name, begging for him to hear me and step away from the stage before it collapses on him. But he never hears me. I never save him. He always dies – every damn night I watch Josh die. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, I die with him.

I don’t even care that Adam is engaged to the red-headed whore. If he wants to spend a lifetime with that walking prosthetic, it’s entirely up to him. He can fondle her surgically enhanced boobs and stare into her all-too-obviously ironed face. I don’t have a claim on him, nor do I want to.

Friend-zone is good. It’s where we belong. I didn’t think our friendship would ever recover; it was an uphill battle, one I didn’t think we’d come out of, but thankfully we have Josie as our common ground and neither of us wanted to hurt Josie. So I’m putting on my happy face as I get ready to stand by Adam’s side as his best man while he marries the wrong girl.

I hate that Josie is his flower girl. Sure, she’s gonna look adorable, but that doesn’t mean I want her to be a part of Adam’s wedding. And for him to marry three days before the anniversary of Josh’s own proposal, three days before the anniversary of Josh’s death, is a dagger so deep inside of me there’s no pulling it out. But I’ll stand by Adam’s side as he has done countless times for me and pretend my life isn’t in shambles.

Because what if…what if I had let Adam explain things before I left him in the bathroom? What if I hadn’t left him to tour with Amber by his side? What if I had responded to his email and opened myself up to him, to love? What if I had told him about my little conversation with Amber?

Those ‘what ifs’ are about as empty as all the promises of love that have ever been made. Love was a joke that rarely left anyone unscathed.

I put on my teal bridesmaids dress and look at myself in the mirror. I’m sure that Amber purposely picked this dress out for me so I’d look my worst. It showcases my assets in the worst possible way with ruffles on the sleeve and bodice. The tail is the worst though, I think as I turn around and see the mismatched sequins. Our dislike for each other has grown and is obvious to everyone but Adam. Or maybe it’s obvious to him as well and he just doesn’t care.

I dress Josie in her white flower girl dress, omitting the flower headpiece until we are at the church. I hope she doesn’t spit up on her dress, but if she does maybe it’ll be while they’re exchanging their vows. Then I’ll be able to excuse myself legitimately and not have to witness any of it.

I leave early, knowing the church is by the cemetery Josh is buried at and convince myself to get out when I arrive. I put Josie in her stroller and try to steady my heart beat with cleansing breaths, but shit, who am I kidding? Inhaling isn’t any more cleansing than exhaling.

I walk slowly towards his resting place, knowing exactly where it is even though I haven’t visited it in close to a year. Josh isn’t here, I know that, but the problem is that he really isn’t anywhere anymore. As each day passes and we get closer to his anniversary, I need his presence more and more. Maybe I’ll find it at his gravestone. Maybe I’ll camp out here until I do.

As I walk closer, I see a figure slumped in front of Josh’s gravestone, so I pick up my pace, already knowing who I’ll find. Josie isn’t the only common ground Adam and I share.

“Adam,” I say gently, and he snaps his head back at me. His fingers and pants are dirty from kneeling on the dirt, pulling out weeds. I crouch down beside him and stroke his hair as he leans his head on my knee. I kiss the back of his head the way he kisses mine and wait for him to speak.

“Am I making a mistake?” he asks, his voice muffled.

Now’s my chance. I can tell him how I feel, how Amber is all wrong for him, how he can do better. But am I better? I look over Adam’s head and read Josh’s name on his gravestone. I’m not better because I can’t give him what he deserves. He deserves to be loved, and maybe what he and Amber have can grow into love, or something that resembles love.

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Do you love her?” My heart catches in my throat as I wait for an answer.

He looks back at me with sincerity brimming from his eyes. “I’ve only ever loved one woman. Well, two,” he smiles, “if you count Josie.”

He stares back at me, his eyes begging me to respond, but I can’t. Not with Josh’s body below us. Not with the sound of my heart beating drowning out every thought that I try to form. Not with Amber eagerly awaiting her groom. I dislike Amber, but not enough to ruin a day she’s probably dreamt about since she was a girl. I’m a sadistic, selfish bitch, but even I have a limit.

I cup his face with my hands and kiss his cheek. “It’s normal to be nervous, but we really should clean you up before Amber sees you.” I smile at him when he takes my hand, and I lead us away from a past neither of us can let go and towards a future neither of us wants.

I walk us towards the small private bathroom and push Josie through the door so I can help Adam freshen up. I stumble backwards when I see a couple making out on the bathroom sink and giggle until I see a flash of red familiar hair. I grab Adam’s hand, not wanting him to see, but it’s too late.

Adam stalks forward and pulls Ricky off Amber while she tries to smooth out her hair. I open my mouth to scream obscenities at Amber, but my limbs take over and I find myself pulling Amber out of the bathroom by her hair. She hasn’t had time to put her wedding dress back on, which is fine by me. I want to humiliate her.

I push her through the door as Josie starts to cry, an uncontrollable wail that only a baby of her age can get away with.

I can’t believe Adam was going to marry someone he clearly doesn’t love. And Amber!

“You,” I whisper as I advance on her again, but Adam grabs me by my shoulders and holds onto me.

“It’s okay, Dee,” he whispers as an audience forms around us. “I know about them.”

I look back at Adam, and he turns away, ashamed at his own admission. “You knew?” I whisper, and he nods. I put my hand on his cheek, and instead of leaning on it he just stares at me. “Why, Adam? Why would you marry her?”

He shrugs and looks away again.

“Because I wanted him,” Amber laughs. “Our sweet Adam just wants to be wanted.”

“He’s not yours,” I tell her, and shake my head when Ricky hands her panties back.

Just when I think Josie has expensed all of her tears, her wails become louder, so I walk past Adam and pick her up.

“She’s fine,” Amber demands, trying to grab Josie, and I growl at her. Josie’s cries become more pronounced while Amber and I struggle over her.

“Let me have her,” Adam sighs, but I childishly move away from him, not wanting anyone to hold her. Throughout this debacle I’ve completely forgotten about Josie and whatever is ailing her as I sling her around. Unaware, I get her a bit too close to Amber just in time for her to vomit all over Amber. Seriously. Projectile vomit. Everywhere. Or not everywhere, mostly just on Amber.

“Oh my God!” she shouts, quickly moving away from us while I try not to laugh, probably not the reaction she would want if she were paying any attention to me.

Her bridesmaids rush to her side and glare at me while I shrug away from them.

“Let’s go, Adam,” I reach my hand out to him. He hesitates, but takes it anyway.

“Where are you going?” Amber asks, but neither Adam nor I stop. “You ruined it,” she accuses me.

“Ruined what?” Adam wants to know.

“Everything.” I can’t say I can empathize with Amber’s tears seeing as we just found her screwing a bandmate in the bathroom minutes before she was supposed to exchange her
I do’s
, but I don’t think it’s sympathy she’s looking for. In fact, I don’t think she knows what she wants. “I earned this! I fucking earned this, Adam,” she whimpers.

“Yeah, babe, you’ve earned this,” Adam relents, looking sad and defeated. He rubs his hands together and tries to keep his eyes on Amber, but fails when they begin to dart around the room. I want to hold out my hand to his again, to offer him support, but I’m not sure he’ll take it.

I lean towards him and whisper, “What are you doing here, Adam?”