The service began, and as shocked as I was to see her there, I was also grateful for the strength it brought me. We sat there together for the rest of the service, tears falling as we said good-bye to our friend.
When the service was over, she looked over at me, smiled, and with a fresh tissue, dried my tears. “I’m really sorry about Ty,” she said. She knew how close we’d gotten. “I was devastated to hear.”
I nodded, finding my raspy voice. “Thank you.” I stared right at her, still absorbing her presence and the undeniable effect it had on me. Her hair was up, and she wore a dark green dress that really brought out the radiance of her eyes, which were kind.
As the church emptied, our colleagues seemed to give us our space. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” I said as we walked out. “I should have called you. I’m really sorry about that.”
“Doesn’t matter now, okay? And I had to come. Whether you wanted to see me or not, I had to be in the room for you. Then I saw the state you were in and thought you might need the support.”
“I did.” I exhaled, giving the conversation space to stretch and breathe. I looked over at her. “There’s a part of me that’s so upset with you for wanting the job, and there should be a big part of you that hates me for pulling so far away.”
“I want to be here anyway. Is the angry part of you okay with that?” she asked.
“It’s not the time to push people away.” The opposite, really. Life was precious. I imagined for a small moment if I’d lost Carrie in the way I’d lost Ty and immediately shoved away the thought. Too much. One thing at a time.
She nodded. “I agree.” A pause. “Will it be weird for you if I attend the gathering? If you’d rather I not, that’s okay. Ty was your friend first and foremost.”
There was an informal reception afterward with lunch and drinks, a time for people to come together on such a hard day. “No, no. Come. Please. You have every right to be there.”
“Okay. I will. Thanks.”
“And Carrie? For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for how I behaved. I don’t like myself very much because of it.”
“Thank you,” she said. A haunted look crossed her features, and my stomach dropped, watching her walk to her rental. If she’d put me through a lot, I’d certainly done it right back. I hated that knowledge. It hadn’t been real until now as I witnessed the effects in person. I’d told her to go to Seattle and then punished her for it.
An hour later, covered dishes dotted every available surface of Ty’s aunt’s home. Ice cream flavored punch, topped off with whiskey in certain glasses, flowed. Friends and family mingled, got to know each other, and exchanged stories and memories of Ty. It was nice in so many ways to laugh with the people who loved him most. Sandra hugged me and thanked me for being a friend. I swore to her that we would stay in touch and still get those noodles together.
“He adored you,” Sandra said. “I hope you know that. Rooted for your success each step of the way.”
I nodded. “He was a big part of it.”
“Thank you for being here. Call me soon.”
“I will.”
Throughout the reception, Carrie gave me space. But no matter how much I tried to focus on whatever conversation I was in, I always knew where she was in the room. She was a phantom from a life that felt so far away now…but so wonderful, too. As soon as I’d shove thoughts of Carrie to the side, I’d catch a glimpse of her smiling across the room, and I’d be right back in the thick of it, wondering how we’d gotten here and then remembering the awful details full on. She’d left me, and then I’d left her right back.
At some point, mid-reception, I’d looked around to find Carrie had gone home. Everything, to my annoyance, seemed much dimmer after that. The air had been let out of the world.
Lying on my couch that night and decompressing after such an emotionally charged day, I imagined what it was going to take to get me back to…me. Micky, mimicking my energy, lay on his back with all four legs standing straight in the air. “You doin’ dead bug?” I asked. He didn’t move. “I completely feel you on that.” Because after today, I had nothing left to give. I’d cried my eyes out at a funeral, had a panic attack, and seen the woman who’d broken my heart after months apart. Dead bug was looking like my new favorite pose.
My phone buzzed, but I didn’t have the energy to even look. “Go away,” I said blandly. “Don’t you buzz at me.”
Shortly after that, there was a knock at the door. Perfect. Was there no peace? I stalked my way to open it, unsure what I would say to…had to be Sarah. I swung the door open and paused. There she stood, in jeans and a long-sleeved turquoise top that looked incredibly soft. My fingers itched to find out. Her hair was down and her expression earnest.
Carrie.
She opened her mouth and closed it, saying nothing. For a weighted moment, we simply stared at each other as my heart thudded, ignoring my brain. When she took my hand and gave it a soft tug, pulling me to her, I didn’t resist. I closed my eyes when she leaned in to receive her kiss. Everything went soft. Me, the room, the door, the universe, and most especially, my resolve. As our lips moved together the way they always did, I came back to myself. I pressed closer, deepening the kiss, needing her now more than I thought humanly possible. I needed this in every way. My arms were around her waist and holding her firmly against my body as we kissed. And kissed. And kissed. I was lost in her, and for this short period of time, more than okay with that. I had zero strength to fight myself because having her in my arms was everything.
“Skyler,” she whispered moments later when we came up for air. Everything in me had come alive. I opened my eyes and held her gaze, drunk on the connection I desperately missed and now craved, and went in again without hesitation, hungry for more, more, more. I caught her lips with mine and sank into the kiss, which was anything but timid. Not enough. I pulled her into the apartment, kissing her the entire way. She kicked the door closed behind us. I unbuttoned her shirt in my living room, tossing her bra to the floor within seconds, too. Her breasts fell into my hands, and I squeezed gently. I turned her around, kissed her neck, and cupped her breasts from behind, moving my hips against her backside. She murmured her approval, eyes closed. I kissed her neck without reserve. She angled it to give me more access and snaked her arm up and into my hair, grabbing a fistful of it. We were on fire, and she’d been in the room for under a minute.
“Off,” I whispered and gave her jeans a tug. She obeyed and slid them down her legs, leaving them on my floor. I pushed my hand down the back of her panties, reaching under and around into warmth and wetness, and listened to the sounds she made as I stroked her slowly yet firmly toward release, on a total mission, her hands flat against the wall as I took her higher. This wasn’t about tenderness. It was primal, lust-driven sex, and we seemed to be in sync on that.