Page 52 of Rainstorm

“Come on, just tell me what size jeans you wear.”

“Five, but that means nothing, Ariel, nothing!” Her eyes are fixed on mine, but I see them through a haze of unshed tears. “I’m a hideous blob!”

“Rosie, you are no such thing,” she says quietly. “I think you need to see a therapist to talk through these body issues you obviously have, as well as seeing a lawyer. If you’re healthy, you’re happy, and if you’re happy, you feel beautiful. So, come on, girl. Take a chill pill!”

“What for?” I scoff. “What I really need is my old life back.”

“No, you need to wake up and accept your life is changing...”

Then the doorbell rings.

Saved by the bell!

As Ariel curses and heads for the door, I sigh with relief as I put my clothes back on, thinking I’ve already had my quota of lectures today from my mother, so I don’t need Ariel starting on me too. Maybe I should start looking for my own place sooner rather than later.

I hear the front door open, then muffled voices arguing. Whoever it is doesn’t seem to be welcome, that much I can make out.

“It’s Chase,” Ariel informs me when she returns. “He’s brought your car keys. I told him he could leave them with me, but he’s insisting on talking to you.”

He wants to talk? Fine. I jump up and hurriedly brush the crumbs from my t-shirt, not even bothering to check myself in the mirror as I go to confront Chase.

“What do you want?” I say coolly, attempting to portray a mask of indifference, although seeing him standing there is actually killing me.

Slowly.

Painfully.

With no alcoholic haze to numb the pain, seeing him in the bright light of day is something altogether more painful. This is my Chase, my husband, and I’m still so crazy in love with him.

He looks like the man I was meant to get old with. But now I won’t be.

Our future together has become impossible.

It’s still so fucking hard to believe it.

It feels as if there’s a dagger twisting in my heart, and I’m slowly, painfully bleeding to death. How do I tell my poor damaged heart to listen to the logic of what my head is saying when he’s wearing those jeans, my favorite faded pair, the ones that fit him so nicely?

“I need to talk to you, Rose. I don’t understand why you’re living here with Ariel, when you know you have your own home you can stay in.”

“It’s not my home anymore, not since you told me you wanted a divorce and threw me out,” I yell at him.

The pain crushes my chest, my breathing is distressed.

“That’s not true, I never threw you out. I was only there to collect a few basics, so that I could leave the house for you.”

He looks hurt but I don’t care... at least I shouldn’t care. But I do. Because you still love him, my traitorous heart whispers.

But I need to stay strong.

“Whatever,” I say, trying my hardest to dismiss these thoughts. “You have my keys? That’s the only thing I need from you, so...” I put my hand out.

“Rose, we have to talk.” He ignores my outstretched hand. “About what happened between us last night…”

Oh no, he’s not having the last word here, he’s not setting the agenda.

“Nothing worth talking about happened between us last night, Chase. Because there is no ‘us’, that word doesn’t even exist as far as you and I are concerned. You need to start thinking in the singular. I am.”

My words act like a slap in the face, the pain reflected in his handsome face.

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