Page 2 of The Opposite of Romance
“Let’s get you into a seating position, Dee.” I rush to help her get to the couch.
“Nope. Sitting’s the worst, by far.”
She gave birth to my adorable niece ten days ago, and this is pretty much her first outing. While I was upending my life, divorcing my husband and buying a house to move into, her new life was getting started.
“I should call Liam to pick you up.” I search the plastic shrink wrap covered sectional for my phone.
“Not yet. Let him handle Stella for a little while.” She waves me off. “Besides, I’m here to help you out. It’s Sadie and Sandy against the world, just like the old days.”
A chuckle escapes me. Our parents weren’t really innovative in naming us, and it’s a running joke ever since we knew how to make jokes. We’ve often wondered how we both turned out as creative as we did, since we’re carrying their genes.
Sandy is four years younger than me, and my best friend in the world. She’s also my right hand when it comes to self-publishing. She’s been working with me ever since I started earning enough to pay her.
“Then stand there and watch me try to unpack something.” I open the box right next to me, finding my books inside. I start to close it back, because it’s certainly not a priority, but Sandy stops me.
“Come on, get those out. You’re Sadie freaking Summers and you should show it.”
My lips turn up, and I do what she says, dragging the box toward the massive bookshelf that was one of the selling points of the house.
Giant windows overlook the expansive backyard, and I can practically feel hot cocoa sliding down my throat as I envision sitting here in a comfortable reading chair with my favorite books. Something like excitement swirls in my belly, and I get to work unpacking the books.
Refocusing on the task at hand, I hear Sandy ask, “When’s David bringing the kids back?”
“In the evening. They want to spend the first night in their new rooms. I just hope they’ll have somewhere to sleep by then.”
“Even if the bedrooms are not ready, you can camp out here in the living room. I’m sure they’ll love it.” Her optimism is contagious. Even though I’m the romance writer, she’s the true romantic between the two of us. I used to be more like her, but romance hasn’t been a part of my real life for a long time.
She walks slowly to the large beige sectional and lies on top of it. I smile, knowing she’s probably not in pain anymore. “Wow. That view is … wow.”
Even though we’re ten minutes away from the beach, our house overlooks the mountains, making for a breathtaking sight.
“Yeah … but there’s a lot of work to be done in the backyard.”
The backyard was in the middle of renovation when I bought the place. The pool is finished, but I need to get someone to build the deck. Preferably, as soon as possible, knowing my kids will want to live in the pool this summer.
She tries to help me unpack a few times, but I force her to lie back down before she eventually gives up and chats with me, while I do the work.
An hour later, Liam picks her up to feed little Stella, and I’m left alone in my new house. The movers assembled all the furniture, so there’s not much to do besides unpack. Still, it’s weird starting out again on my own.
There’s no point in dwelling on it, so with a heavy sigh, I open the next box and find some pictures that need to be hung up.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself.There better be some YouTube videos to help me with this. But first, I need to make sure my kids have somewhere to sleep tonight.
David dropsthe kids off around eight.
“They ate dinner and already took a bath,” he says emphatically, kissing them goodbye.
I exhale a relieved breath. “Thank you.”
We stare at each other for a few more seconds before he speaks, “Are you OK?”
“I think so. You?” A lump forms in my throat.
“I think so.” He nods and heads to his car, and I’m left there standing, my eyes filled with tears.
Why am I crying?
Am I mourning the loss of us? Could I mourn something that was lost a long time ago?
