Page 123 of Role Play
Ash
Two days later, I took a half day off from the studio. I had planned for this months ago. Had told Richard that no matter what, I needed to be in Los Angeles with an afternoon free to pay tribute to my wife. He didn’t fight me on it. He never did. Year after year, we planned filming around this day. The crew was prepping to go on location to Georgia. In actuality, the characters were supposed to be in Florida, but Georgia had massive tax breaks forfilming.
But for now? None of that mattered. Work didn’t matter. Filming didn’t matter. Prep for going on location didn’t matter. I may not have made the time for Brie when she was alive… it may even be the reason she’s no longer with me. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to make that mistake again. Not in life. And not indeath.
I packed myself a small picnic. The same meal Brie and I had shared the afternoon I proposed to her... an assortment of cheese, turkey, salami, Marcona almonds, Castelvetrano olives, and a bottle of cheap Pinot Noir. Because when you’re young and in your twenties, you always think Pinot Noir is the refined wine to drink. I chuckled to myself. It was the same exact Pinot we’d had all those years ago, a six dollar bottle from the grocerystore.
The hike itself didn’t take me long, only around thirty minutes as I neared the halfway point to the top of Runyon. There were no picnic tables. No benches. But I sat down on a small patch of grass, and pulled out the snacks and wine. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have bothered pouring myself a glass—lips to bottle, I would have chugged that thing straight. But this was our anniversary. And if Brie had been here with me, we would have poured the red wine into little plastic cups and clinked themtogether.
I squeezed my eyes shut, picturing what Brie would look like now. After seven years of marriage. As a mother to a five-year-old. I pictured her here beside me. Imagined what our little girl would have looked like, playing in the grass beside us, picking dandelions and tying them together to make a necklace. Would she have had Brie’s curly hair? My blueeyes?
I held my plastic cup of wine out toward the sky. “Happy anniversary, babe.” Then, I took a swig from my wine, ignoring the prick of tears stinging myeyes.
Hey you. I heard Brie’s voice in my head, clear as day.Happy seven-yearitch.
I smiled at that, almost laughing because it’s exactly what she would have said. But then, those words rang truer in my heart than they should have. Seven years and my heart had finally chosen someone else.No. It hadn’t. I was resisting that. “I miss you,” I said, letting my words dissipate in the hot, dry air as though it was a single drop of water and the Los Angeles sun could make it disappear as though I’d never uttered thewords.
I miss you, too. But staying miserable and alone won’t bring meback.
The tear slid down my cheek and I ignored it, taking a bite ofcheese.
The sun beat down on my bare shoulders, burning them, but I didn’t even care. I wanted the pain. I wanted to bepunished.
I closed my eyes once more as a soft breeze brushed over my face. In the distance, I heard the pounding of footsteps—runners making their way up the trail. I heard the hum of mild chatter and somewhere along the trail, a child’s laughter cut through the ambient noise. My eyes snapped open at the sound. “Kelly said my excuses are bullshit. That there’s another reason why…” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words aloud. To admit to my dead wife, here in our sacred place, that I was falling for anotherwoman.
That Kelly is a smartchick.
So, she agreed. Or at least, my subconsciousdid.
Digdeeper.
“I think… I think that by letting myself be with someoneelse—”
Love someone else, Ash. Sayit.
“I think that by letting myself love Lucy, it will somehow take away what you and I had. By loving Lucy, I’ll have to let go of you. Say goodbye to you. And I’m not ready for that. I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready. And that’s not fair to her. She deserves what you and I had—the first love. The lasting love. But you’ll always be this presence in my life and I don’t think she can handleit.”
She can’t handle it… or you can’t handle it? Because you’ve never even given her the chance to try. You didn’t even give her theoption.
No, I guess I didn’t. I grabbed a few almonds and popped them into my mouth, chewing in silence as I twirled Brie’s ring on my pinky. I couldn’t go back in time and change what happened with Brie. And I wasn’t able to move on. I was stuck in limbo. Torn between the husband I once was and the husband I could potentially beagain.
You need to apologize toher.
I snorted at that. Apologize? I’d tried that already and failed miserably. I needed to do more than apologize. I needed to open up a vein and bleed my past all over her. I needed to show her how sorry I was. I needed to show her I was really ready to move on.IfI was ready to moveon.
I leaned forward, digging my fingers into the dirt and watched as the reddish grit covered portions of Brie’s ring. My throat grew tight, clogged with a hollow sort of misery. Was it time? Time to bury her ring, five years after I buried herbody.
I looked up and through my tears, the Los Angeles horizon was distorted, like I was looking at it through a warped piece ofglass.
It’s time,Ash.
A shaky breath trembled in my chest as I wrapped my fingers around the now gritty ring and wiggled it off my pinky. Digging with my hands, I dropped it a few inches into the dirt, then covered it. Using my finger, I wrote our initials, then poured a bit of wine around it, smiling through my sadness. Smiling through mytears.
I loved her ring. I loved wearing it. It didn’t feel like a shackle, binding me to her, but rather a sweet memory of my firstlove.
I finished what wine was left in my glass, and corked the bottle, packing up the nearly untouched food. As I stood, my stomach wobbled and my eyes fixed onto the freshly disturbed mound of dirt that only I knew held her weddingband.
It hurt like a motherfucker leaving a piece of her here. “Is this the right thing todo?”
