Chapter 26
River
I hauled the few boxes Adam had of my stuff up into the condo and put them in the spare bedroom. I wasn’t sure what the contents were, but I figured they couldn’t have been anything I needed since I hadn’t seen them in over a year. I tapped my fingers against one of the boxes, my stomach clenching in unease. I didn’t need to see what was in them, but somehow I still found my hands opening the box. I shook my head as I looked at the books. They were classic volumes of Austen, Shakespeare, Bronte, Milton, and Chaucer. Bobby had bought them for me when we went out exploring in Cape Cod and found a used bookstore. They were all aged, worn from reading by others and myself, but still beautiful. I picked up Paradise Lost and ran my fingers over the etched leather cover. Bobby couldn’t understand why I loved the books so much, but he hadn’t hesitated to make a pile on the register as I stared at certain ones in awe, flipping through the worn pages to the date. The Austen novels were all printed in Great Britain, and I’d wondered out loud how they’d made their way here. Bobby had laughed, telling me it was undoubtedly with a hopeless romantic like me. I swallowed the lump in my throat before replacing the book and moving onto the next box.
It was filled with clothes I’d left in my rush to leave. I moved to the next box; more books this time, but these were modern books. My eyes burned. They were the books I’d lost myself in the weeks after Bobby’s death and as Adam disappeared into the bottom of a bottle. I’d left them because they were a harsh reminder of how I managed to control my grief with words and all Adam did was drown his with booze. I closed my eyes before moving to the last box, and my hands shook as I pulled the tape free. Inside were photo albums. I ran my hands over the years on the side. Back when we were kids, I made them for everything. I licked my lips, my throat raw as I closed the box and then lifted the one filled with the books.
I put it in the living room and went to make myself a cup of tea. As I placed the books neatly on the shelf next to the window, the ominous blue bag in the backseat of the car caught my eye. My pulse whooshed in my ears. I knew I should bring it inside, but I was too afraid I would open the damn thing. I took another sip of the tea before looking down at Sadie. Her siblings were at the tattoo shop, and she’d stayed home with me. She seemed perfectly content as she hopped up on the window sill to see what I was looking at. She huffed and then made her way back to her seat on the couch.
It was just a dress. My chest filled with air as I grabbed my keys and headed down the steps. I threw the bag over my shoulder, the weight of the dress bearing down on me as I went to throw it in the spare room with the boxes.
I should sell it. Or donate it. I was never going to wear it again.
As I went to shut the door, a flicker of the stones on the dress shimmered where the zipper had come undone. I tilted my head back as my body chilled and then warmed, causing nausea to course through me. I pulled the little piece of paper out of my pocket and went to the dress, unzipping the bag.
The rose gold dress shimmered against the setting sun cascading through the window, and I stepped back. It wasn’t wrinkled anymore. It looked exactly like it had before I put it on. It dipped in the back and the front, a plunging neckline that Tara had selected. I closed my eyes, the sapphire blue heels I’d worn with it flashing in my memory.
I knew what I’d done with those. I’d tossed the shoes in the trash, never willing to wear them again. I should do the same thing with the dress, and definitely with the smooth piece of paper I had in my hand. I rubbed my face before depositing the letter at the bottom of the bag and going to zip it in.
“Wow,” West said, and I jumped, my hands going to my chest as my heart pounded. “Where did you wear that?”
Our eyes met, and I couldn’t hold his gaze. I turned and zipped it closed before opening the closet and hanging it there. My hand reached up to my neck and my fingers clasped around the angel wing necklace that I never took off.
When I turned West was sitting on the top of the boxes, his jaw tensed.
“Adam buy that dress for you?”
I nodded, a sour taste filling my mouth. “It was going to be a special night.”
West’s brows furrowed, and his green eyes flashed. “But?”
“Bobby died.”
He put his head in his hands before standing and pulling me into his arms.
“I don’t know why he kept it,” I whispered into his chest, my voice cracking.
West’s hands ran over my hair and down my back, pulling me in tighter. “Probably for the same reason you are.”
“I’m sorry.” My chest tightened. “Are you mad?”
West gave me a sad smile, his hand on my cheek. “I get it. Sometimes it’s easier to hold onto the things that are most painful.”
He’d told me about the newspaper articles about the accident. I’d never gone looking for them, even though I knew where they were.
“It’s hard to let go,” I finally replied, and his body tensed.
“I know.”
“I’m not talking about Adam. I’m just talking about…” My voice drifted because no matter what Adam was a part of it. “Everything.”
West cleared his throat, nodding over his shoulder. “I thought we could go out to eat. We haven’t had a date night in a while.”
“Sounds great,” I replied, leaning up on my toes to kiss him. His body remained tense, and my head pounded. He said he wasn’t angry, but his eyes were distant.
Maybe he wasn’t mad, but it still bugged him. I followed him out, my eyes landing on Adam’s handwriting on the boxes as I closed the door behind me.
I wasn’t sure I blamed him for that. It took me a long time to be okay with the tattoo across his chest, and Sophia wasn’t even alive. When I turned, West stood at the shelf by the window with Paradise Lost in his hands.
“The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven…” West said, his eyes on the pages in front of him. I knew from where he was in the book that it wasn’t a quote from the page, but something he knew by heart.
“I hope that’s not how you feel,” I said as he placed the book back in its place on the shelf.
“I read that book countless times after Sophia died. I remember thinking that if Satan believed he could truly make Hell into Heaven, that I could survive life without her,” he said, rubbing his hand over the tattoo on his chest.
“Kind of a morbid book to read after all that,” I said as I stepped forward, picking up Emma. “I didn’t read any of them after Bobby died. He bought them for me, and I couldn’t even look at them. That’s how they ended up in the box. Adam didn’t put them there. I did. I read a lot, though…when I couldn’t sleep, and Jesse locked me out of my computer outside of work hours.”
West nodded to the book in my hand. Its blue cover was faded from time. “Is that your favorite?”
“I think it’s nice how Emma tries so hard to set up all her friends, and she’s so blind to her feelings that she tries to set someone up with the man she loves.” My eyes lifted as I put the book back on the shelf.
“Friends since childhood who didn’t realize they loved each other.” West raised an eyebrow. “Or Emma didn’t realize it. Knightley knew he loved her, despite her glaring flaws.”
“I like that about Jane Austen, she never shied away from human nature,” I replied, stepping forward and putting my hands on west’s chest. “Exactly the reason I love you so much. You accept me for all of my glaring flaws.”
West’s hands found my hips. “Glaring flaws?”
“Like keeping that dress even though I know it bugs you,” I replied, cocking my head at him.
West bit his lip as he looked at the ceiling. “It’s not the dress that bugs me.”
“What is it then?”
He took a shallow breath. “What was the special occasion?”
The box flashed in my mind. My voice was weak when I answered, “I don’t know.”
But the truth was, I was afraid of the answer, and by the way West’s chest rose, and his forehead tilted to touch mine, he was too.