Page 83 of Breadwinner
Beth was close enough that Sarah could smell her shampoo lingering in the air. Lavender, just like always. Just like she remembered from the hundreds of times she had picked it up for her at the grocery store. It filled her as she inhaled deeply, letting the scent hurt her in the best way possible as memories flooded her vision: running errands together, Saturdays at the aquarium with Lily, dancing in the living room to the sound of the rain outside.
“We had different ways of getting there, but I always trusted we were heading in the same direction,” Beth said.
Sarah stood, frozen to the spot, watching as Beth’s gaze dropped to her mouth, lingering for just a moment, but to Sarah, it felt like an eternity.
That had been alook.
“What are you doing?” Sarah asked.
The words left her before she fully knew what she wanted—no,needed—to say. Her hands shook slightly as she shifted her weight, fighting the rush of feelings that look had yanked to the surface. Her grip fumbled, and the laundry basket dropped to the floor, sending clothes everywhere again.
The clatter of the basket broke the moment between them.
God, what thefuckwas her life right now? She raked her fingers through her hair and turned away from Beth, still notsaying anything, her pulse whooshing in her ears as she tried to make sense of what just happened. That was a look, right? Or had she just imagined it? She didn’t need any of this right now—not from Nell, not from Beth, not from anyone.
“I’m sorry,” Beth said quickly, stepping away. “I shouldn’t have come over here to vent.” She nervously reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked at Sarah with those big, worried blue eyes. “I should leave.”
Sarah held up her hand, effectively silencing Beth’s ramble. She needed quiet, a moment to process and decide what this all meant. That had definitely been a look. Now she was sure of it. Why was Bethlookingat her like that? Or was she just reading into it because, in her heart of hearts, SarahwantedBeth to be looking at her like that again?
“I think that’s probably best,” Sarah said, her voice lacking its usual firmness as she ventured into the uncomfortable territory of boundary-setting with Beth. She had never been particularly good at it, but she knew it needed to be done. She just had to find that strength first.
Sarah bent yet again to collect the laundry from the floor, buying herself a moment to try and loosen the thread that was pulling again in her chest. She became absurdly aware of just how much laundry had been a part of their lives, in ways she never noticed before now. Lazy Sunday mornings of folding over coffee, frantic last-minute loads before a gymnastics meet, sifting and sorting between stolen kisses. She forced herself not to follow that thought any further. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that to herself, not anymore.
Beth’s worry turned to confusion. “Sar?—”
“No. Please don’tSarme. Not now.” Sarah stood, the power returning to her voice as she held the basket of laundry between them once again, the barrier firmly in place. “I think you’re right. You should leave. And I don’t think you should come over herewhenever Jamie pisses you off anymore. You don’t get to bring your problems here and expect me to sort them out for you like always.”
Sarah paused a moment, considering whether or not she should acknowledge the look Beth had given her, and decided that if she was setting boundaries, she should probably set that one, too.
“And you definitely don’t get to look at me like...” She caught herself, giving herself enough room to pivot, but choosing not to. “... like I’m still yours.” She fought the urge to cringe at the way her voice had the audacity to crack, undermining her in a moment like this. But now that she had started, she had to keep going.
“Sarah, come on. That’s not—that wasn’t?—”
“I’m not your girlfriend. I’m not your wife. I’m not your emotional sounding board. And I’m definitely not your secondfuckingchoice when you and Jamie are fighting.”
Beth’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again, and for a moment, Sarah almost backed down. But there was that look—the one from moments ago that brought to the front of her mind what used to be a quiet, dull ache. It was the look that made her think of the years and years she had spent trying to make it hurt just a little less every time she saw Beth’s name on her phone or caught her eye from across the room. Suddenly, the chokehold Beth had on her life was so abundantly clear that Sarah couldn’t help but question how she had ever missed it.
“I don’t think you realize you’re doing it, which somehow only makes this worse,” Sarah said quietly, shifting the laundry basket to rest on her hip. “You only want me when you know you can’t have me because it means you neveractuallyhaveto choose me.” She looked away so Beth wouldn’t see her tears as she finally put words to the dance they had been doing for the better part of a decade.
“Sar, I didn’t come here to—” Beth tried again, still unable to finish her thought, but she didn’t need to. Sarah understood.
“I know. But you did,” she said quietly. “So, I agree. I think you should leave.”
Beth stood in front of her another moment, her hands hanging loosely at her side, still with that stunned look on her face.
“I’m sor?—”
“Just go,” Sarah said flatly, not moving. Beth left the room without another word, leaving Sarah standing there alone until she heard the soft click of the door.
Sarah inhaled shakily, still processing what had just unfolded. It wasn’t even the look that bothered her the most. Sarah could look past that. It was how it had finally made her realize she needed to cut the thread between her and Beth once and for all.
Not even a minute later, there was a quiet knock at the door, dragging her from her swirling thoughts and the spot in her family room where she still stood in a faint cloud of lavender-scented shampoo.
She spun around, her fury rising as she moved to the door, ready to give Beth a piece of her mind. What more could she possibly want from her? To tell her again that it was nothing? Or to apologize again for something that never should have happened?
She yanked open the front door, fiery words on the tip of her tongue, ready to give Beth a piece of her mind?—
But it wasn’t Beth. It was Nell.