Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Seth
I had no intention of telling Claire about Abigail tonight, but that’s where we ended up.
It’s hard to think about how long I’ve lived without her, the life she didn’t get.
One of the other reasons I ended up in New York was that it was one of her favorite places.
We’d taken a few vacations and tried to fit in as many restaurants as we could in a short amount of time—she was a foodie.
I do love the idea of being happy in the place she loved so much. I’m not sure about the afterlife or what happens when we die, but part of me holds hope that she knows where I’m at, what I’m doing, and it doesn’t feel like I wasted the precious time I had.
A lot of people in New York don’t know I was married.
It really does feel like I cut my life like a piece of rope, and tied it off.
Then, I started a new one in a different state.
Every once in a while, I go back to the old rope, all the things hanging from it, but they stay put after.
Even if they wanted to come to New York, I always go back to them, not wanting to mix things up.
We’re rinsing dishes in the kitchen, the warm water rinsing the bubbles from the plates. I insisted on doing the dishes, since Claire cooked, but she was adamant we do it together. We make quick work of it, Claire drying the last of the dishes and putting them away.
She turns and faces me, hands on her hips, scanning for anything else for us to do in the back-to-immaculate kitchen—every counter wiped and everything spotless.
Slowly, she steps closer to me. She doesn’t say anything but instead wraps her arms around me, resting her head on my chest.
I hug her back and we sway back and forth for a few seconds.
I knew it was the right thing to share with her, tell her about one of the pieces of me that’s rare to find, and she couldn’t have been nicer to me.
There was no toxic positivity or bullshit take on how she’s in a better place or anything like that.
It felt like everything I said…just was.
“I mean it. Thank you for taking care of me. And for making my birthday one to remember.”
She melts into me and her weight is like the weighted blanket my therapist told me about, the one I use when things get dark. The one that makes me feel like I can claw myself out of whatever hole I’m in.
“Could’ve done without the emergency landing, but, you’re welcome.” I hold her to me and feel her shake with a laugh. My own lips pull into what feels like a smile. And I don’t say it, but I feel it.
This means something to me, too.
The Fable Inn is mostly modern, but then Jess tells us about the hot water bottles she put in our room while we were having dinner and it makes me question my judgement.
I’ve never come into contact with one until tonight, but it gets a ten out of ten for me.
Even though she turned the generator on, the wind has picked up outside.
It might be barely snowing, but you can’t see a thing.
Plus, the wind is so shrill, it whistles as it creeps through parts of the window, making the room cooler than last night.
We’re under the blankets, Claire’s laptop balanced on her lap with enough battery for us to watch another movie—we’ll need to charge it tomorrow.
“Is now a bad time to tell you that the only thing I have downloaded are all of the Scream movies?” She puts a hand over her mouth, probably covering a laugh.
“Put the next one on,” I insist as she taps the keys. “I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I saw the second one.”
When she settles in, she curls into me, resting her head on my chest. Maybe we need to stick together for warmth or maybe this is just the pull. The place we end up. Either way, I’m not complaining.
Before we get too far into the movie, I pull out my phone, checking the weather for tomorrow. I hold the screen in a way that both of us can see it as I click the radar and forecast.
“Maybe it will finally stop snowing tomorrow?” Claire says wistfully, as the massive blue blob of winter seems to shrink and disappear while we watch the twenty-four hour radar loop.
“Maybe? I am looking forward to wearing appropriate clothing, not things from my Florida suit case.”
She turns, looking up at me, eyes wide and gushes, “Same.” She laughs considering she’s wearing a T-shirt of hers over the lacy lingerie from last night.
Next, we check the temperature forecast, which shows a significant warm up over the next few days. Like, it’s supposed to be 65 in six days. Talk about a swing.
“No icy roads this time next week,” she says. “That doesn’t compute in my brain. Stuck in a blizzard but back to the pumpkin patches and no winter coats in a week.”
“Definitely something I didn’t see coming. But, hey, we wouldn’t be in a bed with hot water bottles, watching the masterpiece that is Scream 2, if the weather behaved? Right?” I joke and shrug my shoulders, feeling her laugh into me.
Picking her head up, she wags a finger at me. “Don’t talk that way about my favorite movie franchise.”
“I would never,” I tease her, rolling my eyes, and then looking at the laptop screen.
We watch all of the movie, some of the jump-scares getting me, and Claire letting out a laugh I’d pay to listen to when my depression is pulling at me. An honest belly laugh from someone who people legit won’t sit next to in meetings because they’re scared of her. I love the contrast.
When the movie ends, I hurry out of bed, closing it and putting it on the small table in our room. Climbing back into bed, Claire is waiting for me to get comfortable.
Last night, I couldn’t help but think of touching her. Tasting her. Making her moan. But tonight? The thought of us just being here with each other is enough.