Anna.
“Hey, girl,” Demetria calls from behind me.
“Hey,” I reply, fixing her with a stern gaze. For someone who claims to be a great friend, she hasn’t called in days or even asked if I’m okay.
“Someone’s in a mood,” she murmurs, pecking my cheek. My expression remains unchanged.
“Demetria, you didn’t even call… Nothing.” My tone shifted from angry to disappointed.
“I called Dave, and he said you were fine. Plus, I’ve been busy with… you know who.” She winks, making a crude gesture with her tongue that describes in no uncertain terms what she’s been up to these days. It’s not something she should be flaunting at work, but I can’t help but laugh.
“Looks like you had a blast,” I comment dryly, returning to the counter. At least someone enjoyed themselves. I busied myself folding clothes.
“You have no idea. And, just between us, I think I’ve got a new roommate for the week,” she smirks, plopping down on a swivel chair meant for customers trying on shoes and spinning herself around.
I shoot her a sidelong glance. She’s clearly smitten. “Do I know him?”
Probably. She never gets involved with anyone from outside the neighborhood. And when she’s done with them, she tosses them aside like yesterday’s news. I despise watching the heartbroken guys watching her with sad puppy eyes.
“Definitely. He was at your front door.” The white blouse I’m holding slips from my grasp.
Two troubling thoughts invade my mind: either my friend wants to sleep with him or the bastard took my absence as an opportunity to be with my son. Either scenario fuels my anger. The fact that he spent time with my son should be reason enough for my fury. Part of me wants to believe it’s the only reason I’m mad, but if that were the case, why do I feel so irate towards Demetria?
“You never mentioned that Dave had such a hot friend. I assure you, if you had, I’d have been at your place faster than Flash no joke!” she giggles at her own tasteless jest. A vivid image of me tipping her off the chair plays in my mind.
“It’s Henry,” I respond tersely. She studies me for a moment, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Oh my god, did you hook up with that hunk? I am SO jealous. Except for the fact he’s your ex-boss,” she quips. My glare deepens.
Demetria used to understand me. She was compassionate, kind… But when I returned to Seattle, I realized she had changed dramatically. She wasn’t the same person with me anymore. It felt like she was constantly competing, and whenever I made a mistake, she never missed an opportunity to rub it in.
I had hoped she’d revert to her old self over time, but she remained unchanged.
“Yeah, he’s also the man who broke my heart and treated me like garbage. It’s great you managed to spot that before anything else.”
I picked up the garment from the floor, tossing it onto the counter in frustration. Exiting through the door, I was well aware I might lose my job, but I needed to confront that good-for-nothing.
***
Watching Jeremy and Henry play as if they’d known each other their whole lives wrenched my stomach to a point where it was almost unbearable the variety of feelings that coined in my body. Happy, anxious, confused and sad for what could have been and never was.
The desire I always had for Dave to be the father that Henry never was and I know Jeremy never saw Dave as a father.
And today I see my son extremely happy playing with a stranger as if he knows who he is.
I wasn’t lying when I said Jeremy had strength. It feels like I’ve been kicked in the stomach, though there’s not much difference between that and getting hit with a ball, right?
I tried to get up, but damn, it hurt like hell.
“Ann, are you okay?” Henry drops down beside me on the grass. He touches my shoulder, and he genuinely looks concerned. His intense gaze consumes me from the inside out and… damn, it shatters me.
Images of us in bed flash in my mind, looking at each other the way he’s looking at me right now. Or times we were in opposite corners of a room, feeling the weight of each other’s gaze without turning around. Those moments when he looked at me as though I was a dream, his treasure, as if I’d slip away at any moment. I used to look at him in the same way, except in this exchange of glances, he was the one who lost by walking away… Tears welled up in my eyes and I let them flow. Memories are sly bitches that strike at your most vulnerable moments. These memories are attacking me, and I’m defenseless.
How I wish I had amnesia. I no longer want these memories. I want to erase them from my life, as if they were a dream that later turned into a nightmare.
Henry is unfortunately reopening wounds I thought had healed. The pain in my chest feels like it did when I was eighteen. Answers to questions I thought I didn’t need to know began gnawing at me from within.
“Why did you leave when I needed you the most? Why didn’t we fight for us if you loved me? Why return now? Where is your friend? Why won’t you leave before it’s too late for me?”
I promised myself I wouldn’t cry over him again, yet here I am. Another day, shedding tears for him.