by Marci Bolden
He’d saved her back then. She assumed he was about to try to save her again. The difference was, despite the pain of her loss, she was stronger now and didn’t need to be saved. She needed help; she needed support. But she didn’t need him to save her.
“What’s going through that big brain of yours, Simon?” she asked when the silence between them dragged on too long.
“A few things.”
She smirked at his vague response. “Such as?”
“How would you feel about me flying out to Utah and doing some exploring with you? We could drive to St. Louis together, and then I’ll fly home from there.”
Carol’s breath caught. The idea of spending so much time with Simon jolted her. Though she knew better than to assume he was suggesting anything more than two old friends traveling together, her mind flashed back in time to when they were lovers. Her heart did a crazy somersault in her chest, and she opened her mouth but couldn’t form any kind of response.
“To hang out with you, Caroline,” Simon explained. “Nothing more.”
“I-I know. But…um…” She scanned the small space around her. The compact RV was the perfect size for two people. The main bed was in the back, and a second bed was above the driving compartment. Though the quarters were close, there was room for two people.
“No,” Simon said, interrupting her internal debate. “The word you’re looking for is no.”
Carol closed her eyes and rested her palm to her forehead. “Simon—”
“You’re mourning your husband right now.”
She dropped her hand and stared at Tobias’s photo. “Yeah. I am.”
“If you’re worried that I’ll try to take advantage of you—”
“No. I know you better than that,” she said. “I trust you. I have mixed feelings about having company right now.”
“Company in general or my company?”
“Both,” she answered honestly. “I know you’re trying to help, and I appreciate your efforts.”
“But?”
Carol eyed the photo on the fridge again. “But I miss my husband. You can’t fix that.”
“I wasn’t trying to.”
She sighed. She’d hurt his feelings, either by rejecting his offer or implying he was trying to make something better that he couldn’t. She started to apologize, but she couldn’t make the words come together. She hadn’t meant to offend him, but she wasn’t sorry for the boundary she’d set.
Spending time with Simon would be wonderful. She loved being around him.
But she was smart enough to know that, honorable as his intentions might be, there would be underlying tension between them. She couldn’t say what that tension would be, but they had a past that hadn’t ever been fully resolved. She had enough things to settle without allowing Simon Miller to share her space.
“If you decide you want company,” he said, “in Salt Lake City or anywhere else along the way, I’d be happy to join you. I’ll even bring a tent so I don’t invade your space.”
She chuckled. “Good to know.”
“Do you think we could have dinner since we’ll be in the same town?”
“Maybe.”
He was quiet again. “Think about it, okay?”
“I will,” she agreed. “It’s early yet, but I think I’m going to get some rest. My legs are killing me. Thanks for checking in.”
“You’ll let me know when you get back on the road?”
“Yes. You and my mother,” she said lightly, hoping to ease the awkwardness between them.
Simon laughed lightly, but the air of discomfort lingered. “Good night.”
Carol once again replayed the day’s events, from waking up under a cloud of dread all the way to what she’d said to Simon, and her face fell. I miss my husband.
Missing Tobias was an understatement. She was lost. Falling through space with no end in sight. She was going to hit bottom eventually. And hitting was going to hurt like hell. She had taken twenty-four years to work up the courage to face Katie’s loss. She didn’t have another twenty-four years to spare to face losing Tobias.
After putting her dishes in the sink to wash later, Carol crawled onto the bed, stretched out, and stared at the ceiling. Pulling the worry stone from her pocket, she rubbed her thumb over the words as she thought about Gillian and her insistence that she was happy to be free. To be alone. To have no one.
Carol would give anything to have someone. To have Tobias. Katie.
But that was impossible. She had to stop dwelling on how much she wanted the impossible.
As much as she could imagine Tobias with her, standing before some natural wonder and telling her all about it, she could begin to picture Simon. Though she and Simon had never traveled together, that had been something they’d talked about a few times. They liked to talk about a future beyond sneaking off to his apartment when their shifts had ended. Arches National Park had never been mentioned, but Carol could think of him standing at Delicate Arch with her.
“Isn’t this incredible?” he would have asked.
That was a phrase Simon used to say often. A patient would make an unexpected recovery, and Simon would beam a brilliant smile as he uttered those words. They’d be curled up together as she kept one eye on the clock, not wanting to go back to reality. He’d pull her closer, kiss her shoulder, and say how lucky they were to have crossed paths.
“Isn’t this incredible?” he’d whisper.
What they’d shared had been incredible. Wrong but incredible.
Now that she was considering his offer, she couldn’t stop thinking about how this trip would have played out with him. Instead of walking alone, offering shallow greetings to strangers she met on the trails, she could have had company. Real company. Not Gillian and her false bravado.
Carol would have had someone to enjoy her day with. She would have had someone to share this day with. More than anything, that was what she’d missed the most—sharing her life with Tobias.
Rolling onto her side, she stared at the photo she kept on the small shelf beside the bed. Blowing out a long, sad exhale as she ran her fingers over his face, she said something she had thought a thousand times but hadn’t dared to voice until that moment. “Fuck you for leaving me here all alone, you jerk.”
Four
By the end of the following week, Carol was back in St. Louis. Home. Or as close as she had to one these days. The bedroom where Tobias had slept right up until they got their first apartment together was hers now. While that offered some comfort to Carol, there was a sadness in her heart every time she entered the room. There was so much of Tobias lingering in this space. His trophies, his posters, his memories. The purity of the love he’d had for everyone he ever met. He had been one of those people who genuinely wanted the best for everyone and was willing to help make that happen if he could. Other than Katie, Tobias had been the closest thing to an angel that Carol had ever met.
Having him in her life had been a blessing. He’d driven her crazy sometimes, but she’d loved him so fiercely, she couldn’t imagine ever feeling like that again. She didn’t know if she wanted to. That kind of all-consuming love had nearly done her in when she’d lost him. Hell, it continued to do her in. Most days, if she stopped fighting to carry on, even for a minute, she’d lose herself in the grief.
Dr. Baxter had advised her to focus on the good memories while simultaneously making new ones. While her therapist supported Carol’s decision to not have Simon travel with her, she was also reminded that she couldn’t keep living in the past. Traveling was supposed to be a healing experience for her, not a constant reminder that Tobias wasn’t there to see the things she was seeing.
Apparently Carol was clinging to the hurt instead of embracing the opportunity to heal.
Big surprise.
Kneeling on the floor before one of the boxes of memories, Carol hesitated before lifting off the top. The contents had been carefully wrapped in brown paper, so the mementos safely made the transitio
n from her old house in Houston to this tiny room in St. Louis. The first item she unwrapped was a framed photo from her wedding with Tobias. The picture captured a moment when she was leaning into him, her hand resting on his chest as he pressed his cheek to her temple. Their joy was evident and authentic.
They’d promised to do everything in their power to give the other a life of love and happiness, but they couldn’t have imagined how amazing the next twenty years were going to be. Despite the ups and downs, they’d both fulfilled that promise until the moment he was ripped out of her life. She couldn’t have imagined how someday she’d be sitting in his old bedroom, alone. Widowed. Missing him more with each beat of her heart.
She cradled the photo to her chest and closed her eyes against the burning tears that wanted to form. One of the things Dr. Baxter had been helping Carol learn was how to feel without being consumed.
Feel the pain; don’t live it. Acknowledge the sorrow; don’t dwell in it.
The longer Carol let her hurt be the focus, the longer her pain would linger. She had to learn to acknowledge the loss, feel the emptiness in her heart, and then focus on the happier times so she could be thankful that she’d had them.
The happier times she’d shared with Tobias had been some of the happiest of her life. She’d never been whole after losing Katie, but she was as close as she could have ever been when she’d had the love and support of her husband. From the day they’d met, they’d known each other on a spiritual level. Their souls were meant to be together. They’d fit like puzzle pieces. Instantly.
Her connection to him had saved her from the darkness she’d been living in for so long.
Losing him was more like losing half of herself. Definitely the better, stronger half. Tobias was centered and focused. Carol was good at faking those traits, but inside, she’d been a storm. She’d had a mind filled with chaos and emotional hurricanes swirling below the surface. He’d calmed that. He’d provided a safe haven from her own mind. A haven she had desperately needed then and certainly could use now.
Without him, she’d let the storms back in. The darkness was closing in, and hard as she tried, she feared she was losing the battle.
Though she still had several boxes to sort through, Carol took the only photo she’d unpacked and crawled onto the bed. With the picture cradled to her chest, she curled into a ball and stared at the place where Tobias used to rest his head. Tears welled in her eyes as she recalled how he would stare up at the ceiling, smiling as he told her stories of his childhood. She’d so loved hearing his stories. Though his father had left when Tobias and his brother, Elijah, were young, Mary had given her sons a happy and healthy childhood. They’d had so many good times, Tobias never ran out of tales to tell.
Carol had been so envious of his stories. Her childhood had been sterile. She’d never had her own memories to share with him, so she’d immersed herself into his. She’d immersed herself into everything about him. Now that he was gone, Carol was starting to realize how much of her had been molded by Tobias. She’d been a self-imposed blank slate when she’d met him.
She’d left Caroline behind her and had yet to figure out who Carol was until Tobias took her hand and pulled her into the light. He’d made her feel like a person again. He’d shown her how to feel again.
How was she supposed to just let that go? He was gone, but in so many ways, he was right there. He was inside her, imprinted on her heart and soul.
Lifting her head when the bedroom door was opened, Carol gestured lamely for her sister-in-law to enter. One of the many things Carol loved about this family was that in-law was a technicality. Mary was her mother, Elijah was her brother, and Lara was the sister Carol wished she’d had while growing up. With them, she belonged. She was a part of something larger than herself, part of their orbit.
“I brought whiskey.” Lara slipped into the bedroom and closed the door like she didn’t want to get caught with the liquor she’d swiped from Mary’s cabinet. “May I join you? It was a long day at the office, and drinking alone seems wrong.” She kicked off her high heels and started peeling away her blazer before Carol had a chance to answer.
Carol wiped her cheeks as she sat. “I see a bottle but no glasses.”
“Glasses are for sissies.” Lara climbed onto the mattress, twisted the cap off, and then took a swig. A full-body shiver ran through her as she held the whiskey out to Carol.
“Classy, as always.” Carol toasted Lara and then took a drink. The liquor burned all the way down to her stomach. She winced, sighed, and then swallowed another mouthful. After a long exhale, she examined the bottle in her hand. “I met a woman in Utah who said she preferred whiskey over wine. Why?” she asked before taking another drink to test what she already knew—she wasn’t a fan of whiskey. “Ugh. This is awful.”
“Okay.” Lara reached for the bottle. “Don’t get drunk before dinner. Mary will kill me.”
Carol grinned as she imagined for a moment the hell Mary would give them if they got sloshed. However, her lips fell quickly because those lectures were usually saved for the troubles that Tobias and Elijah used to get into. “Her name was Gillian, and she made this big show about how independent she was. Nobody told her what to do.” Carol smiled, but the grin didn’t last. “She was sad. She did her best to hide it, but she was sad. And lonely. I felt sorry for her,” Carol said flatly. “But maybe she was on to something. Part of me wishes I didn’t have all this…” She gestured around the room.
“Family?” Lara pressed.
Tears sprang to Carol’s eyes. “No. That’s not…” She blew out her breath. “Ignore me. This year seems harder than last. The shock has worn off. I can feel his absence now, and I really wish I couldn’t.”
Lara capped the bottle and set the whiskey on Tobias’s nightstand before stretching onto her side. She propped up her head on her hand and gave Carol a sympathetic frown. “Nothing screams ‘look at my shitty life’ like society insisting this is the most wonderful time of the year.”
Staring at the boxes of memories, Carol let the photo she’d been holding fall to the side. Furrowing her brow, she muttered, “You think my life is shitty?”
“No,” Lara said quickly. Too quickly. “No. That’s not what I mean. I… I was trying to empathize. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. My life is shitty.” Carol’s lip trembled as she focused on the stack of boxes. “Shitty and…empty.”
“It’s not empty,” Lara said.
Carol chuckled wryly as she took in the concern on Lara’s face. “So you do think it’s shitty.”
Lara glared, but a smirk toyed at the corner of her mouth. “Stop. I’m not catering to your pity party.”
Falling back onto the bed next to Lara, Carol focused on the ceiling like Tobias used to do when they’d share this bed. “Sorry. I was eyeballs deep in feeling sorry for myself when you came in.”
“I figured as much. That’s why I brought whiskey. Mary’s worried about you.”
“Mary never stops worrying about me. Or everyone else.” Rolling her head toward Lara, Carol confided, “She said you’ve been working late every night.”
Lara rolled her eyes. “No, I haven’t. Not every night.”
“Is everything okay?” Carol asked gently. “With you and Elijah?”
“Yeah. We’re fine.”
The idea of her family falling apart so soon after losing Tobias was a fear she hadn’t harbored until Mary had shared her own concerns. Now, that was weighing on Carol as heavily as the impending holidays. Though she knew she’d never lose her bond with Lara and Elijah, she also knew those bonds would change if they divorced. The idea of more change was almost as terrifying to her as letting go of the past. “Are you sure?”
Lara gripped Carol’s hand. “We’re fine. I have been working late, but not because there’s anything wrong. Rumor has it one of the executives is retiring after the New Year. I want his job. More than that, I don’t want anyone saying I got his job because I’m a Black
woman. They need to know I earned any promotion I get.”
“You have earned it,” Carol assured her. “You’re brilliant. They’re lucky to have you.”
“You’re my sister. You have to say that. They don’t.”
“The reality is, no matter how hard you work or how much you prove yourself,” Carol said sadly, “someone is going to choose to believe you only got ahead because you’re a minority. There is always going to be someone who disregards your value and sees you as a statistic. You can’t escape that. None of us can. Don’t waste your energy proving yourself to anybody else, Lara. If you work hard for the job, then you deserve it. Let that be enough.”
After a moment, Lara grinned. “Listen to you, sounding so evolved.”
Carol rolled her eyes. “I started therapy so my mom would shut up about it.” She tasted the lie as soon as the words left her mouth. “No. I started therapy because I…I scared myself.”
Lara sat up and focused her intense dark brown eyes on Carol. “What do you mean? What happened?”
“You know how I have this ability to shut down and push through?”
“Yeah.”
For a moment, Carol flashed back to sitting on a wooden bench, clutching a clipboard, as a panic attack threatened to overtake her. What the hell had she been thinking? Rubbing her forehead, she forced the memory away. “I tried to go white-water rafting.”
Lara stared for several drawn-out moments, as if trying to make sense of what Carol had just said. “What happened?”
“I froze. Like I’ve never frozen before. I was on the verge of a full-blown meltdown when this elderly man I met intervened and, thank goodness, talked me out of going out on the river.”
Worry filled Lara’s eyes as she shook her head. “Why would you do that to yourself? Water triggers you. You know this.”
Carol swallowed hard, unable to find a logical explanation. “I thought the time had come to face old traumas. I wanted to… I wanted to put some of my demons to rest. I have so many, you know,” she said lightly, as if making a joke would lessen the impact of her words. They had the opposite effect.
