48. Cassidy
CASSIDY
W ith our bellies full of greasy burgers and fries, Michelle and I stood by the fire pit.The stars were scattered like glitter against the dark velvet sky, and the flames crackled, filling the quiet.
I grabbed Brian’s journal from the box, holding it against my chest whileMichelle crouched near the pit, adding a piece of wood to the flames, making them leap higher. “One second.” She grabbed the wine bottle from the grass next to her chair and topped up our glasses. Once that was done, she held hers high. “To assholes. May they always trip on their lies and choke on their bullshit.”
“Fuck yes!”
We clinked our glasses together, then Michelle gestured with hers to the fire. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Holding the journal felt like holding the past, all its weight pressing against my chest. Time to let it go. I stepped up to the fire and dropped the journal into the flames, watching as the edges caught fire, curling and blackening. The pages were devoured quickly, the ink dissolving into smoke. It felt like exhaling after holding my breath for far too long. My chest hurt, but there was something freeing about the sight of it turning to ash.
“What else have we got in there?”
“Umm, let’s see.”I rummaged through the box, looking for the next burnable item. The only things I’d taken out were the scrapbook and the bracelet. Everything else could go.
While I was looking, Michelle put two more logs on the fire. They took flame immediately and I felt the heat on my face.
“Fuck it.” Without warning, I picked up the whole box and dropped it into the pit.
Michelle burst out laughing. “Fucking hell, that’s the spirit!”
We sat down and watched the box smolder and collapse in on itself, the memories inside reduced to nothing but ash. It was oddly mesmerizing, like watching the end of something and the beginning of something else all at once. I took a sip of my wine, letting the silence linger.
Michelle broke it first, her tone light but edged with something deeper. “You know, I never thought I’d find myself sitting by a fire with my husband’s other wife, burning his shit.”
I glanced over at her, a small smile on my face. “Same. Life’s funny like that.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t happen with the next guy.”
I nearly choked on my drink. “Next guy? You’re considering dating again?”
Michelle gave a soft laugh.“Not considering it. Doing it.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Really? Wow, that’s... brave.”
“It doesn’t feel brave, honestly. Most of the time, I’m scared shitless. But he knows all about Brian and he’s agreed to take it slow, so that’s what we’re doing. I’m back to weekly therapy appointments, instead of every other week. Just so that I can deal with anything as and when it pops up. So far it’s going well.”
“How... how do you trust him? Or, more to the point, how do you trust yourself? Your judgement?”
“I’m very fucking vigilant, for starters. But honestly, Cassidy, this guy is waving green flags in my face all the live long day.”
“But how do you know he’s not faking?”
“In some ways, I don’t. But I’m on the lookout for those telltale signs and so far, this guy is an open book.” Michelle leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her glass dangling loosely in her hand. “You know how it was with Brian. There were always those odd rules. Stuff that seemed normal at first but wasn’t, once you really thought about it.”
I frowned, swirling the wine in my glass absently. “Like what?”
“Like the whole ‘don’t post pictures of us online’ thing. I mean, this started well before he met you, which makes me wonder if he was playing the long game, looking for a second wife.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.” She ran her fingers through her hair, blowing out a breath. “And then there was the whole, ‘I’ll handle the bills, you just give me your half and I’ll keep track. I wasn’t even allowed to see bank statements.”
The memories clawed at the edges of my mind. “He did the same thing to me. Said it was easier if one person managed everything and he didn’t want me worrying about it. It sounded supportive and sweet, but, no.”
Michelle’s expression tightened. “Exactly. He made it sound like he was doing me a favor. But now I see it for what it was. It was all about control for him. And don’t even get me started on the way he’d suddenly have ‘business trips’ anytime there was something important, like the girls’ recitals or family gatherings. And heaven forbid you should dare to question him about it. About anything. As soon as I started asking for clarification, or reassurance, he’d blow up. Don’t you trust me ? And then I’d be the one apologizing.”
My stomach churned. “He did that to me too. I’d planned this big dinner to celebrate passing the bar, and he vanished the day before, claiming a last-minute emergency.”
“Always emergencies,” Michelle said bitterly. “Looking back, it was so obvious. But at the time...”
“At the time, you don’t want to believe the worst about someone you love.”
Michelle nodded again, her face softening. “Exactly. You convince yourself it’s just quirks or bad timing. But it’s more than that. It’s patterns. And those patterns are hard to unsee once you know what you’re looking for.”
I stared into the fire. “It’s scary to think about how much we didn’t see.”
“But we did see it, if you think about it. We just didn’t know what it meant. Now we do. We know better, so we can do better. And if a guy wants to date me, he has to be an open book. If he balks at that, even in the smallest way, I’m not interested. Them’s the rules.”
“I admire that, I’m not gonna lie.”
Michelle didn’t reply for moment, so I kept my gaze on the flames. Until the silence dragged out long enough that I flicked her a glance. She was watching me closely, which made me squirm. “Okay, you need a come to Jesus talk and I am just the person to give it to you, so here goes. I’ll preface this by saying I think I’m quite drunk, but I mean every word. You are far too young, and far too gorgeous, to bury yourself in this pain for the rest of your life.” Suddenly, she shoved to her feet, swaying a little as the wine hit her. “Added to that, if you do that, Brian wins. That fuckstick wins! And I won’t stand for it!”
She jabbed her finger toward me, her hand shaking just a little. “Do you hear me? That fuckstick doesn’t get to do that to you. Not to either of us. Please, Cassidy. Don’t let him win. Get therapy, as much as you need. Fuck, I’ll even pay for it! But don’t let him make you too afraid to love again.”
Silent tears slipped down my cheeks, almost without me noticing. “Okay,” was all I could think to say, my voice trembling like a thread caught in the wind.
My mind went immediately to Harle, because of course it did. I could see him so clearly. Standing by the lake, the sun catching the gold in his hair, his quiet strength like an anchor in the chaos of my thoughts. I thought of the way his hands cradled my face, as though I was something precious, something worth fighting for.
The ache in my chest tightened, but alongside it, there was the faintest flicker of something else. Hope. Yes, it was terrifying to think about letting someone in again, to give them the power to hurt me. But Michelle was right. If I didn’t try, Brian would win. And Harle... Harle deserved more than the broken pieces of me. He deserved someone who would fight for him.
I wiped at my cheeks, my resolve hardening. “You’re right, Michelle. He doesn’t get to win.”