Page 98 of Mine

Astor never came back. It’s the first night he didn’t watch me sleep.

My stomach rolls.

I stare at the chair, a glaring symbol of the vacancy now between us. Of the end, of the nothingness I feel inside.

Shut up! This is your fault—I told you not to leave!

I’m done . . .

I press my palms to my eyes, which feel like a pair of sandboxes. I have no more tears. I cried them all out last night.

The despair is so sickening that I can’t take it. So, I do what I always do. Push it aside and plan my next step.

I’m leaving tomorrow . . .

That’s what I’d told him, so that’s what I’ll do. I’ll pack what few belongings I have and get the hell out of here.

Refusing to acknowledge that I am about to vomit, I force myself to sit up.

I gasp.

Dozens of black leather boxes stare at me from every surface of the room.

I recognize the label from the jewelry store I visited during my short trip into town. The store where Astor first screamed at me for not being where I was supposed to be, when he expected me to be there.

I throw off the covers, pad across the room, and pick up the first box. Inside is a pair of diamond earrings, and in the next is a diamond tennis bracelet. The next contains a pair of gold bangles.

I place my hand over my mouth. These are the pieces I spent time admiring while perusing the glass cases. Every piece that the saleswoman showed me then is here now, right in front of me. Astor must have called the store and purchased every single thing the saleswoman said I liked.

There are at least a dozen boxes in the room.

My stomach flutters as I move to each box, the contents of each more stunning than the last.

When I come to the end of the Easter egg hunt, I notice something on the seat of the armchair that once held the man who told me he loved me.

I love you and it makes me crazy. Seeing you with another man. I can’t. I won’t ...

This box is different from the others. It’s large and velvet with a gold clasp.

I pick it up, my hands trembling.

My heart stutters as I open the box. It’s the piece I spent the most time lusting after. Their “showcase” piece—aka, the store’s most expensive piece of jewelry. It reminded me of Astor and me, of me with him and him with me. Of death to self and pain, followed by a beautiful rebirth.

“Oh my God . . .”

My heart pounding, I carefully lift the necklace and gape at the diamond butterfly pendant with a sparkling red ruby in the center.

A notecard lies underneath it. It reads:

I would care if you left.

Fifty-Nine

Sabine

Without planning what I will say, what I will do, if I’ll kiss him, if I won’t, I run out of the bedroom while securing the necklace around my neck.

My feet skid to a stop the moment I fling the door open.

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