“Okay,” she finally says.“I trust you, Jason.”
The words hit me like a steam engine, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.She trusts me.That’s something I can’t take lightly.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”I kiss her lips.
She nods and says nothing more.Just closes the door behind me when I leave.
As I drive to Barry and Lisa’s, I can’t help but think of Lindsay.Of the life we built together and how it all crumbled in the blink of an eye.The what-ifs and could-haves play in my head like a broken record.
The note.
The handwriting.
Anxiety knots in my stomach.
Pulling up to their house is like stepping into another life.The house is large and welcoming—the house where our wedding reception took place, Lindsay’s baby shower, the party after Julia’s christening.
So many family dinners.
Julia took her first steps to her grandma here.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself before exiting the car.
Lisa opens the door and greets me with a warm smile.“Jason.”She wraps me in a tight hug.“It’s so good to see you.”
Her words are genuine, but they hit me like a gut punch.Itisn’tgood to see them.It never is, because all it does is remind me of Lindsay.
Barry and Lisa have found their peace.They had no choice.They have two other children who need them.Grandchildren who need them.They’ll always mourn the loss of Lindsay and Julia, but they’ve moved on.
They had to.
But me?I was stuck.Stuck in a whirlpool of grief and regret that kept sucking me back in, no matter how hard I tried to swim away.And then, when I found Angie, learned about the surgery…
Things cleared up, if only a little bit.
And now I’m back in the fucking whirlpool.
“I brought down some of Lindsay’s old things,” Lisa says as she invites me to take a seat in the living room.“You said you wanted to see her handwriting?”
“Yes.”God, my mouth is dry.“Could I bother you for some water?”
Barry rises.“Where are my manners?I haven’t offered you a drink.”He gestures toward the wet bar in the kitchen.“You still like bourbon?I got this great one from one of my associates.I think he was trying to impress me.”
“It’s tempting, but I’m driving and all.”Plus, bourbon won’t do much for my parched mouth.“Just water would be great.”
“Good man.I can’t tell you how many of my partners I’ve had to get out of DUI charges.”He heads to the wet bar and returns with a highball glass full of ice water.
“Thank you.”I take a sip.
Doesn’t help.
Lisa hands me a box that’s worn at the edges.It’s filled with letters, postcards, and a few diaries.Some of her old high school yearbooks as well.As I rummage through them, memories of Lindsay come flooding back.Her laugh.Her smile.The way her eyes lit up when she was excited.
I open one of the diaries.It feels like an invasion of her privacy, but the need for answers outweighs my guilt.
This one was written during college.She writes of classes, of friends, and…of meeting me.
I’m writing this down because if I don’t, I might explode.Like, actually combust into a pile of ashes.