Page 75 of The Cost of Forgetting You

Swallowing takes effort. My throat is dry and sticky, my hands trembling. It’s too much to think about. Too many directions I’m being stretched in. I feel paper-thin. So easily torn. But she’s my mother, and she’s right. I came when Dad needed me. I’m all she has to depend on. How can I offer her anything less?

“I have to work a few things out before I can say for sure, but I’ll try, Mom. I’d need to arrange for someone to stay here with Dad, I think. I have to ask Roberta what her opinion is. Some nights are fine, but I don’t even know how long I’d be gone, and?—”

“You know, when your nana couldn’t be alone overnight, that’s when we started looking for a facility.”

“He’s not going to a facility.” The words are finely ground by my teeth. I sigh heavily. She doesn’t need vehemence right now. She’s hurting. What she needs is my help. “I’ll figure it out. Just send me the info on your surgery and I’ll let you know when I have an answer.”

I hear another voice, this one familiar. Debbie must be there with her. Relief courses through me that she’s not alone at the hospital, at least. But Debbie has her own family, with two kids still at home. She can’t stay with Mom and take care of her after surgery. That’s my job. And I don’t wish it wasn’t, I just wish it came at a different time. Or that I could tear myself in two and take care of them both.

It’s one of the few times I’ve wished for a sibling.

“I’ll send you flight options. I’ve got to go; they need my pharmacy information. I love you, baby. I know you’ll do what’s right.”

She ends the call, but her words linger. They’re intentionally heavy-laden, a weapon she’s always known how to wield. It weighs on me, compressing me like a closed fist until I’m standing, gasping for air. I want to be free of it all for just one fucking second. To remember what it was like when the only burdens I carried were my own.

Before I can second-guess myself, I pull up Truett’s contact and send him a message, my thumbs hitting the screen rapid fire. To my surprise, he answers immediately.

Me

If I say I’m sorry, will you allow me access to the river?

Truett

Sorry for what?

I pause, weighing my thoughts. I dole out what feels like enough, without laying it on so thick it’s unbelievable. I am sorry. Sorry that I took things further than I should’ve.

Me

Sorry for making a mistake.

He must pause too, because his next message takes forever to arrive, and I bite off half my fingernails while waiting.

Truett

That spot is as much yours as it is mine, Temptress. You don’t need my permission or forgiveness.

Me

…but can I have it anyway?

Truett

Sure, you little rule follower. You have my permission.

Me

And your forgiveness?

Truett

That too.

Three dots appear and then fade. Appear and then fade. I stare, completely rapt, wishing I could pull the thoughts from him like a loose thread. Like I could unravel all the tension between us so easily.

His message appears, and my cheeks flush.

Truett

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