ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟜𝟡 #3
"I told my husband I thought we should get a divorce."
Dannah gently squeezed my hands. "You really want a divorce?"
"No, I don't. I don't want to lose him."
"You haven't, just yet- you're still married."
"That doesn't mean anything...I..I don't know what we're doing anymore."
Dannah guided me towards the couch. My tote bag remained on the floor beside it.
All of a sudden, it looked pathetic.
A bag full of clothes I'd grabbed because I was angry- because I thought leaving would make me feel better.
Newsflash, It hadn't. It had only made me realize how badly I wanted to go home.
"What do you feel right now?" Dixie asked.
I stared at my hands. "I miss him so much. I've been away from him for barely any time, and I already want to go back."
"Then maybe you should."
I shook my head. "I can't, I don't know if he'll want me there."
Dannah looked at me. "Dix, that man loves you."
"I know he does."
"Then why wouldn't he want you back?"
"Because I hurt him."
"So did he."
I looked at her before sighing.
"You two are hurting each other, and you're both exhausted."
"..And you're both stubborn."
I gave her a look. "I'm not that stubborn."
Dannah raised an eyebrow.
I stared at her, smiling lightly.
"Exactly."
"I just wanted him to be happy for me."
"I won.. I finally proved myself, and I wanted him to look at me and be proud."
Dannah's expression softened. "I can tell you he probably is."
"He didn't even ask about it."
"Maybe he was overwhelmed."
I stared at the floor. "I know he's hurting."
"And you're hurting too."
"But I feel selfish." I nodded.
"You're not selfish." Dannah fixed one of my curls.
"I feel like I am."
"You're only human."
That word hurt more. I had spent so much time trying to be strong. Someone who could handle everything.
My eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling, but my mind had already wandered somewhere far away.
Jordyn. Her funeral date was coming up again.
I knew the exact date without having to think about it. Some dates simply stayed buried in your mind, no matter how many years passed. That one was carved somewhere deep inside me.
Every year, Cameron and I went together.
Every single year.
It didn't matter if we'd argued the night before, or if we'd spent a week barely speaking.
It didn't even matter if one of us was angry enough to sleep on the opposite side of the bed, we still went.
Together.
It had become one of those strange traditions that neither of us had ever officially discussed.
We never needed to. When the date got closer, we'd both somehow know.
Cameron would make sure his schedule was clear, I'd find something appropriate to wear.
We'd drive there together, sometimes we talked, other times we didn't, which led to the entire ride being painfully quiet.
But we always arrived together, no matter what.
When we stood there in front of Jordyn's grave, everything else became smaller.
Our arguments, pride and stupid little disagreements mattered for those few minutes.
It was just us, and her.
I closed my eyes.
This year felt different. Everything felt different. The thought of going without Cameron made me feel awful.
But the thought of going with him felt almost impossible too.
How were we supposed to stand beside each other after what happened?
How were we supposed to pretend we were okay long enough to visit the person whose death had changed both of us?
I'd never left him before. I'd never packed a bag, I'd never walked out of our house while we were still angry.
I'd never driven away without knowing exactly when I'd be coming back.
If I had never done it before, then I didn't know what came next. Perhaps this fight had finally crossed some invisible line neither of us could uncross again.
Gosh, I hated this.
I hated it even more because part of me wondered whether Cameron would still expect me to go with him.
Would he even want me there? Would he go alone?
The image of him standing at Jordyn's grave by himself made my stomach twist.
Cameron had always been so composed when it came to grief- at least on the outside.
But I knew him too well, and I knew what his silence meant.
I knew how quiet he became when he missed her, and I knew that, underneath all of it, he still carried the guilt.
Every year, we carried it together. That was why going together had always mattered so much.
I pulled the blanket Dannah had given me tighter around myself.
The date was getting closer.
I didn't know whether Cameron and I would stand beside each other when it came.
Jordyn wouldn't want that.
Despite everything that had happened between us, despite the anger, the distance, the things we'd said that we couldn't take back, I still couldn't imagine standing there without him.
I could leave the house, I could take my things, and I could pretend that I wanted distance.
But when it came to Jordyn, I still wanted Cameron beside me.
Just like every year, just like always.
Except this year, I wasn't sure if there was still an always left for us.
~