Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
The house is drenched in the usual silence when I get home, and the first thing I do is go to the downstairs bathroom. I don’t need the toilet. I need a mirror. I wasn’t even halfway home when the tears found me again. Tears for Billy. Tears for Boris.
Tears for me.
What confronts me when I stare into the oval glass hanging above the sink is unrecognizable. I endure the dismal sight as I wipe away the evidence of my sadness, not wanting Billy to see it. It’s silly of me. A perfect stranger saw my plight. I have dark rims under my eyes, a gray complexion. Hair that hasn’t been cut and colored for months, leaving me with my natural dark blonde at the roots and bright blonde highlight through the ends. I reach up and flick my locks from one side to the other, counting at least three inches of roots. And I pout, trying to recall the last time I painted my lips. My fingernails catch my eye. Short, neat but bare. Long gone are the days when they were immaculate, never chipped, or without a color—usually a shade of bright pink. Bright and alive. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with so much sadness in their eyes.”
I sigh, bracing my hands on the edge of the sink and dropping my head. Is that what he sees? So much sadness? Sadness I could never mask, even if I had the means. Attention to my appearance is a luxury I can’t afford anymore, both in time and money. And energy.
Pushing off the sink, I make my way up the stairs. The smile I found earlier felt lovely, the laugh even more so, but everything real about my life slowly returns to where it should be with each step I climb. On my shoulders. The momentary light feeling vanishes into thin air, and the heavy feeling returns, except now it’s heavier.
Peeking my head around the bedroom door, I see Billy’s asleep, looking peaceful, and the glow of the silent television is illuminating the room. I can only hope for a peaceful night. Not that I’d sleep if it was.
“That was along walk,” Billy says as I’m backing out, closing the door.
I still, holding the door open a little. “I had to take Boris to the vet.”
“What happened?”
I let myself into the room and make my way to his bed, keen to put his mind at rest, even though Boris’s condition is up in the air. “He collapsed. They think he had a heart attack.”
Billy tries to sit up, but I hurry forward to stop him. “Why didn’t you call?”
I pull up for a few moments, wondering what he thinks he could have done. He can barely walk today, for goodness sake. “Someone stopped and helped me,” I tell him. “Took us to the nearest emergency vet.”
“Oh good. Did you take her number? You should send some flowers or something.”
“It was a man. A businessman. I don’t think he’d appreciate flowers.” I smile awkwardly and set about tucking him in better and making sure he has plenty of water. I shouldn’t have told him that. He’ll hate that another man was forced into helping me because he couldn’t be there. “The vet will call me tomorrow to update me. Have you had all your pills?”
“Yes,” he says quickly. “Thank God for pet insurance. This won’t be cheap.”
I swallow and reach for the remote control, flicking the television off. “Can I get you anything before I go to bed?”
He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I’m sorry for upsetting you earlier.”
“Stop it,” I say. “I understand.” I don’t understand; how could I? To me, the thought of being without Billy is . . . well, unthinkable. How he could tell me to walk away is beyond my comprehension. But he’ll do it again on another bad day. And he’ll apologize again.
“Goodnight, Lo.”
“Goodnight,” I whisper, dipping and placing a kiss on his gaunt cheek. “I love you.”
Billy doesn’t respond, just nods. And my heart shatters one more time for the day. I don’t think he realizes how much I need to hear him say it. He used to say it so often. Every day. With every kiss. With every hug. With every touch. Now? He never tells me he loves me. He never kisses me. He never hugs me.
So each day, I long for the most important three words that could provide a glimpse of hope. Of joy. Anything to tell me he will fight. For him. For me. For us.
But in order to distance himself, he denies me those words. He’s out of fight.
My heart aching, I leave him and make my way to the spare bedroom, the place Billy told me to move to two years ago, because he couldn’t sleep with me anymore.