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Not that I expect anything less, given his behavior lately, but the notebook falls at Noah’s feet, his eyes never moving as I walk past him. I don’t turn around, nor can I. I’ve just handed him my heart, as if he doesn’t already have it. Only now, nothing is hidden.
Oh, my God! What did I do? Go get it back! Run, go!
I want a take-back, for Journal’s sake. It’s clearly one of those moments when I ask my brain, “What the fuck?” Sadly, I get no response. I hesitate walking back up the driveway, but I don’t turn around. I can’t because if I do, I probably would have said more and regret it even more than tossing Journal so carelessly into the dirt.
I’m so sorry, Journal. You didn’t deserve that.
Twenty-Five
It’s About a Girl
(It’salwaysabout a girl.)
I read it.Did you think I wouldn’t? I did. Every single agonizing page, I fucking read. I knew she wrote in a journal. I saw her doing it late at night but never once did I think of reading it. Probably because I knew what was in it. Mara. Me. Our life. I didn’t care to read it.
Until now.
Until I’m forced to.
And I have no thoughts to form other than I fucked up. I’ve broken her heart in more ways than I could have ever imagined myself doing so. But I did. I could argue that mine was broken too, but not like hers. Yes, I’ve gone through something completely different than Kelly here, but she lived it differently. Through the months Mara was sick, and the devastation that followed her death, the move, my distance, Kelly had to pick up the pieces of all of us. Me, the kids, and herself.
Had I not read her words, I never would have known any of this.
Truthfully, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know any of it.
“What the fuck is that?” Justice asks, motioning toward the leather-bound notebook in my hand as we sit on the edge of his tailgate.
Pushing out a heavy breath, I lean back on my hands. I look his way, the last few years worn on both our faces, for entirely different reasons. “Kelly’s journal.”
“Shit, man.” His brow pulls together, eyes bloodshot, a bottle of Southern Comfort in a flask. “Heavy.”
He has no idea, but then again, in some ways, he knows a thing or two about loss. A different kind, but still the same. “You gonna tell Kelsey how you feel?” I ask. I’m closest with Justice out of all my cousins. And believe me, there’s a shitload of them, so it makes our connection more like brothers if you ask me. Probably because we’re a lot alike.
Justice groans, running his hands over his face. “What am I gonna say?”
“Probably something terrible.”
“Yeah, like I told you I cheated on you so you’d leave me?”
“That’s probably where you should start.” There’s a lot more to it than that, but most of his history with Kelly’s sister started when we were kids. Then something spooked him. I think the idea of settling down scared the shit out of him. So instead of breaking up with her, he said he cheated on her so she’d break it off with him. Now I’m not saying I’m a fucking genius when it comes to women and relationships, but seems to me his plan was shit from the beginning. But what the fuck do I know? My wife talks to a journal like it’s a person, and I let her.
Justice drops his head forward and presses his hands to his temples, squeezing. “This is just so fucked up.”
Reaching for his flask, I take a drink and chuckle, my jaw tightening. “You can say that again.”
He grips the edge of the tailgate, knuckles white. “Why’d she have to go an’ fuckin’ marryhimof all people?”
“Why’d my kid have to die?” I shrug, holding up the flask, which I drop because I’ve never been a coordinated drunk. “Sometimes, the world just fuckin’ blows.”
“It does, man. It fuckin’ does,” he murmurs, squinting at the burn when he takes a drink.
“And they’re not married yet. You can still say something,” I point out, feeling like I’m at least helping someone out even if I can’t help myself.
“Have you met her dad? It’s not exactly a wedding I want to break up.”
“Uh, yeah, I have met her dad. I’m married to his daughter, dumbass. They’re sisters.” I mean to stand up, but I end up falling off the edge of the tailgate right on my ass.
Justice laughs. “Right.”