Page 58 of Every Broken Promise
It took me a second to jump in after her. Once inside, I locked the window. Astrid was looking around my old room.
“Where’s all your stuff?” She walked over to the long wall that used to have pictures of us. Her fingers trailed the now white paint as if the memories had been painted over.
Not that I put them there. Astrid’s room was full of knickknacks and accomplishments we had made through the years. She hated that my space was barren, so she divided our pictures between our rooms.
“So now you’re the only one allowed to forget about us?” I spat out before I thought better of it.
She shook her head and then turned to look at me. It killed me the way her gaze seemed sad, and at that moment it fucking hit me. There had been a difference in her that went beyond how she had matured. Her radiance, the warmth, the sunshine I loved was gone.
“You broke every promise we ever made.”
Her words were soft, but fuck did they pack a punch.
“Beautiful,” I pleaded.
“Please don’t call me that anymore,” she whispered.
This time, I flinched.
My mind drifted back to our first year of high school. Both of us were scared freshmen, worrying about what the future would hold for us. We had been right to be scared because although Astrid was finally close enough for me to touch, she felt farther than ever.
“If you could ask your mom anything, what would it be?” Astrid asked from where she was laying on her bed. I was on the floor, building the new vanity her parents bought her.
“I don’t know…” I said, because I never gave it much thought. Thinking about what-ifs wasn’t my style, especially when it came to my mother. That shit was too painful to think about. “I guess I’d like to know why EZ and Adam got biblical names and I didn’t.”
The bed creaked, and she sat up.
“What does your name mean?”
“Nothing biblical,” I muttered.
I could feel her staring at me because she knew I was hiding something. When I heard her typing on her phone, I pretended to pay closer attention to the vanity instructions.
She giggled, and I knew it was coming.
“Tile maker,” she choked out. “Maybe it’s your life’s calling?”
I raised my hand and flipped her off.
“What does yours mean?” I nodded toward her phone so she could look it up.
I craned my neck when she started typing to look at her and the screen.
“Divinely beautiful,” she murmured. “Okay, I take it back. This is all bull.”
Hmm, I didn’t agree with her. I thought it was fitting.
“Come on, beautiful, help me with the instructions.”
All the little things I took for granted were slowly killing me.
“Come on…” I had to clear my throat because the words stayed lodged in my voice box. “Let’s get you to bed.”
She didn’t resist when I led her downstairs to my room. I guess it was a good thing that she was too drunk. She didn’t hear the pain in my voice. Maybe this was my punishment?
I was finally getting my wish—I was getting more time with her.
I just never expected it to hurt.
