Chapter 8 - Andie
Chapter Eight - Andie
Nerves overtake my body the next morning, almost like I’ve thrown back eight espressos and am about to be thrown in a cage to fight Mike Tyson.
What a combo. Pacing back and forth, like a tiger stuck in a cage, my script runs through my mind while my fingers fidget with the hem of my shirt uncontrollably.
The movement does very little to calm my heart as it tries to rip out of my chest at the thought of telling Charlie I’m leaving.
Charlie’s my friend, my safe space, and my rock while I’ve been dealing with the loss of my husband.
How is it that he can comfort me, but at the same time cause me so much grief?
Whenever I see his face, it’s a reminder of what I lost. While it’s not his fault, I still feel that I need someone to blame.
This twisted emotional double-edged sword has my gut tied up in knots trying to stay calm.
It’s fine, I’m fine . . . Charlie will understand that I just need a little bit of time away.
Part of me worries he won’t understand. Concerns that the abandonment accusations will fly, and the coward’s way out theories will surface. Is his anger something I can accept or will I cancel this plan if he doesn’t agree with my choices?
Time freezes, and all movement from my body ceases to exist as I see his car pull into my driveway. It’s now or never. Charlie needs to know I’m leaving.
Deep breath, Andie.
My hand reaches for the handle as my stomach churns with nausea—
Breathe, you got this. How bad could it really be?
Each slight movement of the handle amplifies the shaking feeling under my fingertips. Thoughts continue flooding in. What if he thinks it’s a stupid idea? What if he stops talking to me? Questions swirl through my mind, worrying I might lose Charlie too.
One more breath, now plaster on that smile and just get it over with.
I pull open the door as I see him approaching the steps to the house. “Hey Charlie, come on in.”
“Well look who’s vertical before noon. Feeling better today?” He gives me that half-smile that says he’s joking, but genuinely curious.
I nod my head, questioning how I want to respond. On one hand, I’m feeling better now that I have a new plan. But on the other hand, it’s taking every bit of energy to not go back to the couch and hide away like a hermit crab with social anxiety.
Making two cups of tea, I set one in front of him.
Taking a seat across the table, my focus is on the steam rising from his cup, staring like it’s magically going to tell me how to get through this.
Come on, steam. Work your magic. The rehearsed speech replays while awkward silence and tension swarm around us.
Lucky for me, Charlie hates silence as much as I do.
“So—” He clears his throat, while repeatedly turning his mug in his hands. “I was surprised you texted. First time in weeks you’ve initiated contact with the outside world. Almost checked the window for flying pigs.”
“Look, Charlie, can I go first? I just . . . I need to get this out.” The abrupt interruption was necessary.
I finally gathered my nerves, and if I wait for whatever he wants to say, I may never get the words out.
Panic still shakes my voice, but breathing and remembering Charlie’s love for me is what matters most. He only wants what’s best. His nod feels like permission to take the floor. So I don’t hesitate further.
“I know this may sound sudden, but I’m leaving for a bit.” That wasn’t so hard, now was it? His eyebrows are squished together, as if he doesn’t understand my statement. Like the words I spoke were a foreign language. Okay, well, maybe I need to expand.
“It’s just too hard to process everything here. I feel like I’m losing Cody over and over again with the daily reminders everywhere.” My words erupt from my mouth giving him no chance to react.
“I mean it’s frustrating I can’t even go to the grocery store without running into someone who wants to talk about him.
I just need to get away.” The bobbing of his head shows me he’s starting to understand the challenges I’m facing.
“So, I talked with Maddie, and I’m going to Chicago for a while.
I got a travel position at a hospital there.
I think . . . I think I need this change.
” It’s out. It’s done. And I’m hoping it’s enough explanation for him to understand so I don’t have to keep going.
“Good,” he says, nodding firmly. “I’m glad you’re leaving.”
Wait, what? My jaw drops, dumbfounded by his hasty agreement. The insult must be plastered across my face because recognition hits his features immediately.
“Shit, that came out all wrong.” He backtracks as he runs a hand through his hair.
“What I meant is I’m relieved you’re getting away from here.
Watching you fade away day after day has been killing me, Andie.
This place . . . it’s like a shrine to what you lost.” His gesture encompasses the room, and my impulsive scanning reveals he’s telling the truth.
Holy shit, it really is a shrine.
“Getting some distance might help you find yourself again.”
Instant relaxation follows his encouragement. “You’re not mad? You don’t think I’m running away?”
“Running away would be drowning yourself in wine and Netflix for another six months. This?” He gestures toward me. “This is the first proactive thing I’ve seen you do since the funeral. It’s a step forward, even if that step is taking you to Chicago.”
His kindness and love for my happiness hits me like a train with the break lines cut.
Fuck this crying, is there a way to completely turn it off?
The sting behind my eyes causes my face to become red and splotchy as I try to hold them back.
I’m so tired of crying, and I hate to cry in front of others.
Charlie slides his chair next to me. He knows I don’t like to show my emotions.
His arms wrap around me, pulling me close as my resolve begins to slip through the carefully maintained mask.
He sees the cracks forming. Silence surrounds us, while his embrace provides stillness, allowing emotional repair on my own terms: no judgments, no tear-release requests, just his presence as the iron-clad facade gets rebuilt.
Sitting there feels like an eternity before deep breathing resumes. Escaped tears get wiped away before the mask slides back into place.
“I don’t know what I would have done without you these past months.” My voice cracks as I think about leaving, while at the same time expressing my gratitude for Charlie.
“You would have figured it out. You’re stronger than you think, Andie. You always have been.” The squeeze on my shoulder gives me the grounding I need. “But I’m glad I could be here for you. Just—promise me you’ll actually talk to Maddie, not just hide at her place.”
Relief softens his face as I tell him about my self-help mission.
Approval shines behind his eyes and having his support makes taking this step easier.
I’ve always respected Charlie and his feelings.
Having his support makes me believe I am strong.
It’s like a sign that I might just be doing the right thing.
My hopes for Chicago seem simple enough: figure out who I am without Cody and how to best live this life. Chicago could be the change I need, or it could make my life even more complicated.
Time to figure out which way it will be.