Page 4 of My Sweetest Agony

One minute, I was in bed under Drew. Lost in his touch. His kiss. His absolute devotion. Blissfully happy. Falling into that ethereal haze that always surrounded me when we were together.

And three hours later, he was gone.

“I just signed for?—”

A sob slips from my throat instead of the words I’m trying to find.

The box?

The ashes?

Drew?

What do I even call that thing on my mantle?

I slap my hand over my mouth, trying to contain the all-out breakdown threatening to come that I’m not sure I would be able to find a way out of. “Shit, I’m sorry?—”

“Oh, God. No, Ivy. Do not apologize. I can be there in forty minutes if I stop to pick up wine and sushi. Thirty minutes if it’s only the wine. Twenty if you don’t need the alcohol.”

Despite the anguish attempting to consume me, her offer brings a laugh bubbling up. “I already ate.” Lie. “And I have a bottle in the fridge.” Though I’ve barely touched that, either. “But I’m okay.” I take a deep breath, willing it to be true even though I haven’t been okay in a very long time. “I’m going to head to bed soon anyway. You don’t need to come over.”

“Are you sure?”

Am I?

Curling up on the couch to eat sushi and watch something funny and mindless with Marlo does have its appeal, but I just want to be alone tonight.

Well, not alone.

My eyes move to the mantle again, and I swallow through the emotion clogging my throat again. “I’m positive. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Marlo releases a little sigh. “You don’t need to come in. You can take more time off. I promise, we can hold down the fort.”

If anyone else were trying to keep me away from Buds & Blooms, I might take offense, but Marlo means well and is only attempting to give me what she thinks I need. But more time won’t change anything. It won’t bring Drew back or fill this void in my chest that festers like an infected wound.

“…And since it sounds like I won’t be able to convince you to let me come over tonight or to take another day or two, I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

The morning.

A new dawn.

A new beginning.

One I eventually have to start taking advantage of.

Starting tomorrow…

“You will.”

“Did you…”—she hesitates a moment, long enough to make me brace for whatever she’s about to ask—“talk to Nancy?”

Instantly, that vicious vise tightens around my ribcage again, and the tremor in Drew’s mother’s voice plays in my ears as if I’m still talking to her now. “Yes. She called earlier to see how I was doing.”

“How is she doing?”

Dropping my head against the back of the couch, I stare at the beams across the living room ceiling. “I guess as well as can be expected.” I wipe away tears that slide down my temples. “She said she wanted to make sure I knew that she would always consider me a daughter even though the wedding didn’t happen.”

“Oh, hon…”