Page 57 of Catch Me When I Fall

“Carrie, it wasn’t—”

I cut her off. “I’ve never had a home.”

My admission hovered in the humid air between us, and in that moment, I knew were at a crossroads. I could let her in, show this wonderful soul just a hint of the darkness living inside me, taking over my past, or I could play it off and change the subject. Somewhere deep down, I knew Sarah was meant to be in my life, that me coming to Astoria and getting pulled over by Michael was some twist of fate.

Due to that little twist of fate, I was going to take a chance right here and now.

After weeks of stopping myself, I was finally going to tell her the truth.

“What do you mean you’ve never had a home?” she asked, her voice soft now.

Keeping my eyes straight ahead, focusing on the lights of the small town I’d come to love, I replied, “Last year, my husband didn’t just die. He was murdered.”

I felt her stiffen beside me, but I couldn’t look at her. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to continue. I needed to get all of it out, and then we could go from there. The truth might cause me to lose a friend, but at least the weight would be off my chest.

“I’d gotten up early like I usually did,” I began in a monotone voice. I’d told this story over a thousand times; it was almost second nature. “I’d left him in bed, gotten dressed, and headed to the gym—believe it or not, I was a lot skinnier back then.”

She said nothing.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed on. “I came home and could smell my breakfast the second I walked in—Robert always made sure I had breakfast. He would make it and put it in the microwave for me. I remember calling out for him, because usually, he’d be downstairs and ready for work by then. When he didn’t answer, I went upstairs to our bedroom, and I heard water running.”

Dark memories shot up to the surface, images I’d give my soul to forget flashing before me. Astoria faded away, and like every time I told this story, I was back in the bathroom.

“I found him in the bathtub,” I whispered thickly, waiting for tears that would never come.

I stopped crying about his death three months after I found him. My body didn’t see the point in wasting tears on someone I was never going to get back. “I don’t remember much, but I do remember a horrible noise, the kind you only heard in nightmares.”

Swallowing, I looked down to my hands resting on the railing. My knuckles were white as snow as my fingers held on for dear life, my body preparing for the usual panic attack that followed this story.

“Later, I was told the noise I’d heard was me,” I continued, looking back up. “It was my screams.”

“Oh my God, Carrie,” she breathed.

I couldn’t respond. I had to keep going. “The bathwater was pink from all the blood, and it was seeping over the edge, flooding our bedroom. I remember looking at my husband, and then, everything was a blur. I woke up later on the bedroom floor, lying in bloody water. I must’ve stumbled back into the bedroom before I fainted.”

I looked down again, trying to remember the last words Robert had said to me that morning. Like always, I couldn’t. I didn’t even remember what he sounded like some days. There were so many memories from our marriage that were fuzzy now. I couldn’t understand it.

“Carrie, I am so sorry.”

God, I was tired of hearing those words.

It was the only thing people could say, and I fucking hated it.

“After that, I was sent to the hospital because my blood sugar levels were so low,” I explained, bracing for the next part. “I told myself when I first got to Astoria that I would never tell anyone about my past, but…you just said something that people used to say all the time…”

“What did I say?” she breathed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I looked over to her. Her hands were on her chest, as if trying to stop her heart from breaking while a look of horror painted her face. “You’re family.”

She began shaking her head. “I didn’t—”

I gave her a weak smile. “No, I loved it. Truly, I did. All I’ve ever wanted was a home, a place where I belonged.” I looked back out at the town for a second before I looked up to the moon. “I didn’t belong in St. Louis. I never did.”

“St. Louis?”

I nodded. “A few days after I’d found Robert, the pain of losing him became too much, and my father was nowhere to be found…” I trailed off, closing my eyes as I inhaled an unsteady breath. “I couldn’t take it any longer.”

“Carrie,” she practically whimpered.

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