Chapter One
Ember
I got the text message while I was in the home improvement store trying to figure out which carpet to buy to replace the one my sisters had ruined.
I ignored it for a few minutes as I decided between sandcastle and brilliant beige. The last thing I should be doing is putting more stainable, light-colored carpet in their room, but these were the only two options in my price range, and my budget was already stretched to the max. My parents should be attending to this particular responsibility, but asking them to do anything responsible was like trying to pluck a star from the sky: impossible.
“How much is this one?” I asked, pointing to the beige. The clerk stretched to check the printouts as I dragged out my phone to read the text.
At first, my heart lifted at the From: indicator. It was Chris, my boyfriend, who was away at college in Miami. It had been a couple of days since I had heard from him, and although I wanted to talk to him more often, he’d made it a point to let me know I was smothering him, so I had backed off.
Apparently, I hadn’t backed off far enough.
CHRIS: Hey pretty lady. Wassup?
It should have pleased me to hear from him, but an indescribable weight seemed to take up residence on my shoulders. Anxiety bubbled in my stomach. All I wanted was for us to work out. Our relationship had become more work than anything else, but that’s what relationships were—or so I told myself. If I kept working at this, it would pay off.
ME: Getting carpet for the twins’ room. How are you?
Somehow, my relationship with the man who I thought I loved had turned into a carnival reflection of itself. I didn’t recognize it when I looked in the mirror. Chris and I had met when we were in high school and then reconnected when we were at the same community college. I had been training to be an EMT; he had been finishing prerequisites to transfer to a four-year university. To be honest, I’d had a crush on him for as long as I could remember, and when he had reciprocated interest, I had thought I was the luckiest girl in the world.
It had been a long time since I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world.
Ever since things had gotten more serious and the time began to draw near for me to either stay in Tallahassee or join him in Miami, he’d begun to retreat. The more I tried to make it work, the more he pulled away. In my heart, I knew what that meant, but I didn’t quite know how to give up hope.
It didn’t matter. Reading his text told me all I needed to know about our future together. As the words began to sink in, my tongue went as dry as the Mojave, and my thoughts blurred together.
CHRIS: Look, I think I need to be upfront about something with you. I don’t want to hurt you, but I’ve met someone. I thought I should tell you.
My fingers went numb where they clutched at the phone. Even though I had an inkling it was coming, the reality was so much worse than anything I could have dreamt up. My vision went white, and, dramatic though it was, I couldn’t seem to catch my breath.
I’d never been the type of girl who went gaga over any guy, but I guess there was a first time for everything.
It shouldn’t hurt so much to have my suspicions confirmed. I hadn’t wanted to say my fears out loud, afraid that it would make them too real.
But here it was, in black and white. The undeniable truth.
The guy I loved, the one I’d trusted and believed in for so long, wasn’t who I thought he was.
The poor clerk who was reading off measurements, colors, and prices gaped after me as I dropped the other supplies I’d been considering in the shopping cart and then abandoned it in the middle of the aisle.
Normally, I loved this store. I loved the possibilities of it. The little apartment I rented for my family wasn’t in the best shape, and fixing it up was one of the most rewarding things about my somewhat dismal life. But suddenly the sky-high shelves of paint chips and caulk didn’t feel reassuring. Instead, the winding aisles became a maze from which there was no escape.
I texted a response blindly. I was sure to read it back later and regret it, but if the only weapon I had was words, I wanted to aim for his heart and make it hurt.
ME: Then I guess all the promises you made about wanting to be with me forever, all the times you said you loved me meant nothing. All those were just lies? I’m not a perfect person, but I deserve better than this. I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am, but I actually believed the bullshit you spun to me about it being us against the world. Lose my number. I don’t ever want to hear from you again.
As tears flooded my vision, I blocked his number and navigated through the aisles to the front door. I don’t know how I made it back to the apartment complex without wrapping my car around a pole, but I did. Sheer will, I suppose. All those late nights driving an ambulance, high on adrenaline, must have paid off.
An indeterminable amount of time later, I found myself in the shower, the hot spray beating down on my naked body and hot tears streaming down my cheeks. I didn’t know a person could hurt so much. It felt like I was dying, except there was nothing I knew in my repertoire of life-saving skills that could resuscitate me.
I don’t know how long I sat there, wallowing in self-pity. It could have been minutes, but it felt like years. The water began to run cold, although I could barely feel it. My brain seemed to have disconnected from my body. It was probably a good thing. The flashes of pain that radiated down to the marrow of my bones were almost too much to handle.
I’d never believed in broken hearts. Get over it, I’d think to myself when friends of mine would go through a breakup. Even when Liam and Charlie or Layla and Dash had split, granted it was only for a short time, I didn’t think it was so bad. They’d gotten back together, after all. I’d been with Chris so long it had never occurred to me what would happen when we broke up. Not even when things started to get so rocky a couple of months ago.
What a fool I was.
My laugh echoed off the dingy subway tiles, and I peeled myself off of the tub floor to turn off the water. My hair was matted to my head, but I couldn’t find the energy to care. Any concern aside from surviving had leaked out of me in the torrent of tears and had seeped down the drain.
The twins still had another couple of hours at school. Mom was probably off with whatever bum she’d hooked up with over the weekend, and my father, who didn’t seem to care who she slept with, was no doubt glued to a barstool down the road at his favorite haunt.
I was alone.
I doubled over as the implication stabbed through me.
I was alone.
I had my family, but they were more of a responsibility than a comfort. I’d get through this for them. I had my friends, but they had their own lives, and I didn’t want to burden them–not yet. It wasn’t in my nature to lean on others. I provided for my family, working myself to the bone without any help from my deadbeat parents. I would survive this, even if it didn’t feel like it at the moment.
For now, it felt like the pain encapsulated everything, blotting out my surroundings until it contracted to a dull ache in my chest. I staggered to my bedroom with a towel wrapped loosely around my body and water dripping from my saturated hair onto the worn wood floors. I didn’t care. I couldn’t scrounge up the energy to do more than throw myself onto the bed and pull the mussed covers around me.