Chapter 29

It was days before I was back home again, and nothing about how I’d felt that day in the hospital had changed, eating at me from within as I stayed wrapped in the cocoon of my bed. Not that that was a relief at all. It didn’t matter where I was. My heart was irrevocably damaged, everything in me withered.

There was movement downstairs. Apparently, my family hadn’t left for the Thanos’ yet. They really needed to give up on me going. I had absolutely zero desire to celebrate the New Year or my birthday for that matter. It wouldn’t change anything. That piece of my heart would still be gone. Lifeless. I wasn’t sure if it still even beat anymore. It felt more like a dead weight just lying there in my chest.

I wouldn’t hold it against anyone else who wanted to celebrate the New Year, though. They hadn’t suffered my loss. They shouldn’t stop living just because my world had come to a crude, unexpected standstill.

All I wanted to do was lie here in my bed and stare at the wall. The bare monotony of it suited me just fine. It matched the numbness that stemmed from the dead weight in my chest, a numbness that consumed me almost completely.

Every now and then, often when I least expected it, the living fraction of my heart would send sharp, momentary stabs of grief through my chest so strong that I sometimes wondered how they didn’t tear the only beating part of the necessary organ into shreds.

I wished it would. The numbness was bearable. The pain wasn’t.

There were footsteps coming up the stairs. I wondered who it would be this time. Mom, Annie, and Archer had all tried to talk me out of bed several times since I’d come home from the hospital a few days ago. Jet and Emma also made attempts when they would come over. Even Leo stopped by a couple of times to give it a try.

The only person who hadn’t made the effort was Tucker. The last time I’d seen or heard from him was when he’d helped me up to my bedroom. I laid down. He kissed my head, said “I love you,” and left.

His absence didn’t surprise me really. I’d been anticipating it. He’d come to see me every day I was in the hospital, but he was distant, never able to look into my eyes anymore, as if he was there in body, not in spirit.

I didn’t blame him. I understood why. I’d want to get away from me too if I could, anything to get away from the torturous guilt that constantly lingered on the outskirts of my mind, threatening to break through into my every thought.

It still hurt, though. Tucker’s detachment seemed to be the one thing that could penetrate the numbness, making it more of a hollow ache when I allowed myself to think about him.

When I felt the ache draw near again, I quickly shoved those memories aside. I really couldn’t handle it right now. I just wanted the numbness. That was safe to feel. Or not feel, depending on how you looked at it.

I focused on the dull purple wall in front of me. Funny. The color had seemed so much more cheerful when Annie and I had picked it out.

A light tap sounded on the cracked bedroom door.

“Izzy?”

Mom. I didn’t answer. I never really talked anymore. Maybe she would think I was asleep and leave without the wasted effort.

Nope.

Her footsteps were now crossing the room.

She sat on the edge of my bed and ran her fingers through my hair. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? Everybody would be so excited to see you.”

Except Tucker.I wondered if he was even going tonight. I doubted he would feel up for the party, but would he go for appearance’s sake like my family wanted me to do? Was he even able to do that?

It hit me then that I didn’t have a clue how Tucker was doing. If he was feeling any better than I was. I hoped so. He didn’t deserve the pain my mistake was putting us through.

The ache thudded in my chest, and I flinched. Mom sighed.

“I know it hurts, baby, but it’s not going to get any better by just lying here all alone.”

I didn’t respond, but Mom still made one more attempt.

“You might feel better. You’ll never know unless you try. You could always come back home if you need to.”

But I did know. The void was too great for any amount of social interaction to help. Besides, I wouldn’t subject my family and friends to my depression during their celebration.

Mom was still waiting, so I closed my eyes, signaling the end of my listening. I thought she would leave, but instead, fingers ran through my hair again, and she said something I didn’t expect.

“Do you remember how badly it hurt when your daddy passed?”

I winced as one of those unexpected stabs tore at my chest.

“Well, as painful as that was, for all of us, it slowly became bearable. Yes, I still have a hard time, but it’s nothing like the excruciating ache from when I first lost him. And I imagine that’s what will happen with this, too, if you let it.”

A tear escaped my eye, and I quickly wiped it away with my fingertips.

Mom sighed, leaning over to give me a kiss on the head, but before she stood, she murmured, “You’re my baby, and I’d be devastated to lose you. A parent should never have to know what that would feel like, and I’m so sorry, my sweet girl, that you have to.”

She left then, and I laid there with silent tears trickling down my cheeks. At first, the tears were part of the ache, but slowly, the numbness crept back in, allowing me to sleep.

I woke up later with a splitting headache. Doing my best to ignore it at first, not wanting to move, I soon gave in to the fact that I needed medicine.

Rolling out of bed, I walked stiffly over to the bathroom, glad that the doctor had put me in a walking cast before I’d left the hospital. I doubted I’d be too successful using crutches with the cast on my arm.

The medicine cabinet was surprisingly empty. Did they clear it out before I got home? Worried that I might be suicidal or something?

I huffed an annoyed sigh.

I needed something for my head, whether my family trusted me or not, so I decided to go check the other bathrooms. There had to be some Tylenol or something in one of them, right?

Wrong.

The bathroom connecting the other rooms upstairs didn’t have any, and neither did the half bath at the bottom of the stairs. That just left one more.

I slipped inside Mom’s room, unsure why I was trying to be so inconspicuous about it. The clock on the wall told me it was only ten-thirty. It would be at least another two hours before anyone came home, and it wasn’t like Mom got mad if we ever went into her room. Maybe it was because everyone had gone to such lengths to hide everything from me.

Either way, they’d have to deal, because right now, I was desperate. My head was throbbing almost as bad as it had been when I first woke up in the hospital. Besides, it wasn’t my idea to hide all the medicine.

I had to jimmy the lock on the bathroom door but found what I needed, not even having to open the cabinet. There were three bottles sitting right there on the counter. Sifting a few tablets into my hand, I popped them in my mouth, swallowing them without water.

I grabbed one of the bottles on my way out, not wanting to have to walk back downstairs if I needed another dose later, and I was almost out of the bedroom when something on the dresser caught my eye. Curious, I went to get a closer look.

Lying in the center of Mom’s dresser were two envelopes, each with a colorful bow stuck to the corner. One addressed to Isabel, and the other to Annie. They were both obviously meant as gifts. Our birthday was tomorrow. But that wasn’t what caught my attention. It was the handwriting that was causing my heart to race in my chest.

Hesitant, I carefully picked up the one addressed to me. In actuality, it was light, but it felt heavy. Like it contained something crucial. Which it should since I was holding a gift from Daddy in my hand.

In awe and suddenly itching with curiosity, I hurried from the room, desperate to make it up to my bedroom where I could unearth the mystery clutched tightly between my fingers, needing to see what Daddy had decided to leave me before he had to go.

I had to slow my pace on the stairs thanks to the boot on my foot, but as soon as I was on the upper landing, I rushed the rest of the way to my room, flinging the door closed behind me, needing to ensure privacy even though no one else was home.

Taking a seat at the end of my bed, the now unimportant bottle of pills dropped at my side, rolling off the edge of the bed to the floor. I let them go, something much more crucial in my hands.

My fingers shook with anticipation as they broke the envelope’s seal and pulled out the papers. It was a letter. One Daddy had written specifically for me. My eyes prickled as I began to read.

Happy Birthday, my sweet Isabel,

How does it feel to be eighteen? I’m sorry that I’ve missed it. That I’m missing out on so much of your life. You’ve been growing into such a beautiful young woman, someone who knows and owns herself for who she is, and I couldn’t be prouder of you for that. You and your sister both. You’ve both shown such maturity in all this mess, but you, my sweet girl, have that inner balance of peace and maturity in a way that your mom and sister don’t always understand. Theirs is different. Humor them a bit when they fight you on it. It’s there. Trust it.

You might like to know that we have that in common. Kindred souls, you and I. When I was your age, your grandma used to love to tell me I was too mature for my own good. She nearly had a fit when I ran off and married your mom barely a year after graduation, but I was ready. When I met her that spring break, I knew she was it, my forever, and nothing would have stopped me from making her mine. Your sister’s persistence comes from me, after all. The impatience? That’s your mom. But don’t tell her I said that.

Convincing her took time. I was still in school for carpentry, even though I’d been learning from your grandpa for years, and your mom? She was a bit older, which made her nervous, but as I’m sure you’ve noticed, she’s a lot like your sister…full of enthusiasm and always raring to go. As soon as she realized that we were the real deal, there was no stopping us. And we were blissfully happy when you and your sister came along right after we married.

You’ve got your mom’s drive, you know. The first time I saw you dance, baby girl, I knew you were something. I hope you never lose that part of yourself. Hold onto that passion. Keep what centers you close. Our little family was that for me.

I wonder if that special guy has stolen your heart yet, or maybe I should say if you’ve stolen his. If not, don’t worry. Be patient. The right guy is there. If he has, I hope he takes care of it. That he knows just how precious it is, how lucky he is that you chose him. I’m waiting on the other side to give him a piece of my mind if he doesn’t. Although, I’m sure Annie will take care of it long before I have the chance.

I wish I were there with you today to see the lovely young woman I know you’ve become, but I’ll always be there in your heart. I’m sorry that it has to be this way, but it’s how it’s supposed to happen. The parent goes before the child. Even if, in our case, it happened too soon.

But don’t think I didn’t think ahead, being mature beyond my years and all that. Your mother and I were smart. We had life insurance for ourselves, not wanting to leave the other one stranded if something ever did happen. I can leave comfortably knowing that she has enough to get by without me.

What she doesn’t know is that I took it one step further. I wanted to make sure that our children had enough for what they needed too without putting that burden solely on her.

Each of you has an account from a term life insurance policy I set up that you’ll only now be able to gain access to at eighteen. Whether or not that’s on your birthday, I’ve left it up to your grandpa. He’ll judge if you’re ready for it, but don’t worry. The latest you’ll receive it is your graduation from high school, conditional upon some kind of plans for school or a career.

Beyond that, the money is yours to use as you see fit. All I ask is that you use it wisely. We can still worry up here in heaven, you know.

I’m always watching out for you. I’m so proud of you. I love you. I miss you.

Love,

Daddy

P.S. Don’t forget to dance.

Tears were flooding my eyes by the end of the letter, and I swiped them angrily away. I was so sick of crying. But the irony in my dad’s letter was both sickening and infuriating, and the numbness I had become dependent on evaded me entirely now. It should have been the best thing I’d ever read in my life, and a month ago, it would’ve been. But now, it felt like what he’d written out of love was being thrown in my face like a cruel joke.

The letter was meant to make everything okay, but it didn’t help one single, damn thing that had gone wrong. My world was in shreds, completely irreparable.

Restlessness struck me then that I couldn’t shake away, and suddenly, I didn’t want to be here anymore…Not on this bed, not in this room, not in this house. Not anywhere near here.

Jumping up and ignoring the rush of pain it sent through my head, I grabbed the first right-footed shoe I could find and shoved it on my foot.

I reached for my keys, and the bulky boot smacked into Daddy’s dresser, leaving a scratch in the varnish. I cursed as the pain shot up through my leg and glared at the dresser. Its very presence at that moment was infuriating. It was just a vain representation of my father. Giving it such significance all these years was ridiculous. Inanimate objects didn’t compare to the real thing.

I grabbed the dresser and kicked hard, again and again, relishing the agony in my leg, frustration and fury rolling through me I couldn’t control. When I was satisfied with all of the damage, I grabbed onto the drawers, yanking them from their place one by one as my casted arm screamed in protest. I didn’t care. I deserved all of it, every ounce of pain, and I flung each drawer into the dull purple I’d stared at for days, creating several gaping holes in the wall.

I’d hoped it all would’ve extinguished the raging energy now coursing through my veins, but it only fueled it more. Standing still was unbearable, but I couldn’t breathe. Desperate to calm myself, for air, I rubbed at my sore ribs, my eyes flitting wildly around the room. They landed on a picture on the dresser. My favorite couple picture of Tucker and I one day at the beach, blissfully happy and in love. Before we knew about the baby and our lives being thrown upside down.

I scowled at the happy couple and threw it into the wall, the glass shattering around the room like my broken heart. Because that inanimate object was even worse. Mocking me.

Tucker didn’t want me now. All of his promises and I love you’s no longer mattered because the fact was that his retraction was completely, excruciatingly, and devastatingly deserved.

The restlessness resurfaced, and I grabbed my keys, bolting from the room to run dangerously fast down the stairs as I fled for my decrepit truck, not even slowing to shut the front door behind me.

The truck’s cab shook violently under me in the cold weather as it groaned to life, and I threw it into reverse, backing from the driveway to speed off down the street as fast as the ancient Ford would allow. Not caring where I was going, as long as it was away.