Page 15 of You Cake My Breath Away

Inside the master bathroom, I stare at the random bottles of cologne, aftershave, and lotion I’ve yet to be able to part with. Sometimes a scent is enough to trick my brain into thinking Jessie’s going to walk through the door at the end of the day.

I know it’s time to ‘get back out there’ but moving on in life isn’t as easy as it sounds. I pick up a bottle of his cologne and hold it to my nose, inhaling the scent as if it’s his life force. My throat aches, and I clench my jaw as my eyes brim with tears.

On my side of the sink, a new pair of pajamas, aloe-infused fuzzy socks, and a stress-relief body wash are laid out for me. I slip into the shower and let the hot water beat down on my neck. Two days’ worth of shame and sadness slip away, swirling down the drain with the last of my self-control. Tears and snot mix with water as I crumble to the shower floor, arms wrapped around my knees, crying into the crevasse of my thighs.

Why me? It’s the same thing I chanted over and over again when the doctor told me there was no way to stop the unimaginable from happening.

It was just our luck of the draw.

I scoff.

Luck is finding a ten-dollar bill in your car console, or realizing you finally caught your favorite TV show before it’s midway through.

It’s not having an aneurysm.

Dying before you even knew you needed to say goodbye.

“Tilly?” Shantel’s voice floats through the door. “You okay in there?”

“I’m fine,” I croak. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Grabbing Jessie’s body wash, I lather the wash cloth and spread my favorite scent over my body. Bergamot and spice fill the steamy air as I shut off the water and towel dry. My eyes land on the pajama pants Shantel bought me, but without thought my hands reach for the faded Hawthorne Heights shirt Jessie loved. It reaches the tops of my thighs, so I grab a pair of shorts to wear under it and slip into the comfy socks.

I clasp my bracelet back onto my wrist, eyes snagging on the marquise diamond ring sliding down my finger. Jessie picked the perfect jewelry, a testament to how well he knew me. If not for the thin ring guard keeping it secure, the weight I’ve lost would prevent me from wearing it.

“Feel better?” Shantel asks when I plod into the now spotless living room.

I survey my surroundings. How did she complete all that within an hour when I haven’t been able to complete one task for two days?

“I do. Thanks.”

Shantel plops onto the sofa and pats the seat beside her. “Sit.”

I oblige her request but sit on the far edge with my legs pulled to my chest so we’re not touching. She smiles, but her eyes are filled with pity.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

“Because you need me.” She shrugs, gaze bouncing around the room. “Why else?”

“I know you’ve got something to say, so just say it.”

She pouts and crosses her arms. “You know me too well.”

I tilt my head, urging her on. “What’s wrong?”

“Archer needs your help at the bakery.”

Instantly my throat closes.

He kept Jessie’s gift a secret from me.

They all did.

In the moments when I needed to feel close to him, to remember I still had a portion of him with me, the bakery could’ve been my solace.

It wasn’t listed on any of his will documents. Jessie was the financially smart one and paid all our bills. I never had any need to look through our financials, nor a reason to touch the life insurance money left over after his funeral.

Now not only do I have to deal with the influx of grief and frustration I was going through trying to get a loan for something I apparently already have, but also with the fact that Archer is leaving too. I’m not sure why, but thinking about it gives me indigestion.

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