Page 29 of Beautiful Broken Love

I turned over with an exhale, peering out the wall of windows. The lights on the skyscrapers blinked in the night, and the clouds were thick and heavy in the sky. Rain was on the way.

As if he could sense the decline of my mood, Zeke walked around my bed and placed his head on the edge of it. He’d have jumped onif I didn’t have a rule about him being all over my expensive bamboo sheets. The last time I let him on my bed, he clawed at them while I was sleeping and ripped them.

“What’s up, man?” I scratched behind his ears after he let out a light whimper. “I’m all good. Promise.”

Zeke burrowed his head into my palm, and I caved and let him onto the bed. I lightly scratched his head while grabbing my phone with my other hand.

I scrolled through my photos until I found my Favorites folder, then tapped on one of the last pictures taken of me and my brother, Damon. I was fourteen, and he was seventeen. Everyone always said we looked alike. A tightness hit my chest as I stared at it.

All this talk of grief while thinking about Davina and her loss struck something in me. Normally I’d catch a wave of grief, and it would pass. I’d distract myself, hit the court, drop a few buckets, and forget about it. If that didn’t work, I’d focus on the good times we shared. But on this particular night, the good times were distant.

People claim grief is a process—like it’ll end one day and never be thought of again—but that’s far from the truth. Grief is an ongoing cycle and is totally reliant on your mood and vulnerability.

When you feel good, grief can be dealt with. You can go about your day, accept it for what it is, and move along. But when you’re down and reminded of your loss—when you’re alone at night with no one to talk to and nobody to hold—grief is like a colossal wave. It rises higher and higher, and no matter how sturdy your ship is, it’ll smash into it and wreck it, leaving you to drown.

To put it simply, Grief is a bitch, and she likes to hit you where it hurts. I swear she’s Karma’s two-faced sister.

When the screen of my phone darkened, I slid it off the bed. It landed with a soft clatter on the hardwood floor, and when Zeke went back to his pillow, I turned my back to the window, pulled the sheets over my head, and swallowed my sorrow.

SIXTEEN

DAVINA

“What are you doing here!?” Tish’s voice was shrill as she stood within the frame of my office door.

“I like myself better when I’m busy,” I told her with a faux grin, and she scoffed. Let’s just say she was not pleased to see me sitting in my office bright and early on a Monday morning.

“Davina, this isn’t busying yourself. This isdistractingyourself.”

“Well, it’s better that than being at home with all the curtains drawn and bottles of wine in rotation,” I said, clicking through one of the folders with my computer mouse. I cut my eyes at her. She had her arms folded and a dip in her brow. “Wanna catch me up to speed?”

“I don’t like that you’re back. I was actually going to come see you tonight and bring Chinese food.”

“Well, how about you have the Chinese delivered here later, because it’s going to be a long day. We need to get the rebranding party squared away. I know the caterer we hired had a tight schedule, so let’s reach out to her about the menu, because we havea lotof vegans and she’s really good. We’ll work through the list for final touches and then get in touch with Kenji to go over the photos that’ll be on display for the slideshow.”

I purposely avoided my friend’s eyes as I clicked away on my keyboard.

After a few seconds of silence, Tish asked, “What is this really about, Davina?”

“It’s not about anything.” I forced a laugh to prove to her that I was fine, but she wasn’t buying it. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned me like paper in a Xerox machine.

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

I stopped typing with a sigh. “Say what?”

“You aren’t properly grieving, Vina. You’re just burying yourself with work to disassociate with your feelings. You’re my girl, and I love you, but I have to be honest. You need to take your ass back home and sit with your feelings. You lost yourhusband, Davina. Your life partner. That’s not something you just get over in months.”

I folded my arms right along with her. I wanted her to cave, to yield, but Tish was just like Octavia—stubborn as hell and always getting her way.

Or maybe I was just too damn soft.

When I realized I wouldn’t win the silent battle, I sucked my teeth and dropped my arms. “Well, since you want to be honest with me, I’m going to be completely honest with you. Everything in that house reminds me of Lew, and spending so much time there is killing me. It makes me want to sleep all day, to drink all day, and I thought I wanted the time off, but it’s not healthy for me to be there for hours staring at our pictures or sniffing his hoodies.” I paused, looking away. “And sometimes I—I get this feeling that I might—” I clamped my mouth shut, shaking my head.

“Might what?” she asked, her forehead creasing with concern.

“That I might fall into a really ugly depression that I won’t be able to pull myself out of. I feel like the walls are closing in, Tish. Like I can’t breathe sometimes.” She started to say something, but I raised a hand and said, “Yes, I’m still taking my medication. Look, if I stay there all day, no one will ever see me. I’ll never leave. I’ll turn into a shell of myself, just like I did when my daddy died.”

I dragged in a breath.Oh, God.Now I was bringing my dad into this. No, I couldn’t do that here. Not right now. Talking about Lewis was already hard enough.

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