But not tonight.
Tonight, I let my heart be sad. I’ve never felt grief like this. Not even when Andy died. I loved him, but our connection never had the chance to grow into something more. Little did I know that it was over before we were even married.
This grief is different.
Tonight, I mourn the loss of the younger me. The love that never got its chance. I mourn the relationship that will never exist with Clay and Grant. Every heartbeat hurts.
I let the tears fall unchecked. For the first time, I don’t try to stop them. I don’t try to be strong. I don’t try to fix anything.
I just feel it. All of it.
Tomorrow, I’ll work to fix myself.
Tomorrow, I’ll try to be better.
But tonight, the sobs continue until they’re done. Until exhaustion drags me under and I finally pass out.
Empty, broken, but alive.
28
Clay
My thumb hovers over Grant’s phone. I’ve already called five times and left a voicemail each time, and now I’m staring at her name, willing her to answer.
Jo. Please.
I tap her name again. It Rings. And rings. And rings. Straight to voicemail.
“Jo?” I whisper, more to myself than anyone. My chest tightens. Why isn’t she picking up? Is she hurt? Upset?
I send another text.
It’s Clay. Are you okay? Please call me.
No reply.
One more.
I’m fine. Grant’s okay too. I just want to hear from you.
I continue to stare at the screen.
Nothing.
The minutes stretch like hours. Every ring, every “delivered” notification I see—I can’t stop checking. My stomach is in knots, and my bruised hands shake.
I pace our bedroom, muttering to myself like it will provide me answers. She can’t just disappear. She’s okay. She’s safe.
But what if she’s not? What if she’s hurt? Or worse, we hurt her?
My mind races with more thoughts. The accident. The letters. All the ways things could have gone wrong.
I try calling again. More ringing in my ears, but hearing her voice on her message helps a little. Like I can pretend for fifteen seconds that she’s talking to me.
I slump onto the bed, running my hand through my hair. Just answer. Just pick up the phone. Anything.
This can’t be the way things end. I won’t let it be.