Page 64 of Give Me Perfect Love

Zesty lemon makes the house smell like clean heaven and my hands burn from the bleach I’ve scrubbed the countertops with. “Lonely Boy” by the Black Keys does its best to lift my mood and put some oomph in my step, but my therapy cleaning and happy music aren’t doing what it normally would. My heart’s beat is slower, my bones are heavy, and my lungs struggle.

If it were up to him, we’d be together, clawing at each other’s throats, but together.

I toss the sponge into the sink and rinse my hand off before pressing stop on my phone. The apartment goes silent, but my thoughts are louder than the music and my anxiety is thick.

I wonder what he’s doing. How’s Jace and the rest of the family? Should I call Lou, or would that be weird?

“You all right?”

I jump and look up to see Claire with two bags of groceries in her arms.

“Shit. You scared me!” I take my hand away from my heart and grab the dishtowel from the counter, wiping up leftover water.

“How did you not hear me come in?” Pretty with a messy braid places the cloth bags onto the counter and blows a strand of hair from her face.

“I was in deep thought, I guess.”

“Clearly.” She removes milk and cereal. This place is nothing like our last. It’s an all open floor plan. You walk into the living room from outside, and then the kitchen is in the rear. To the left of the rustic loft, there’s a chipped metal spiral staircase leading up to two bedrooms, each with an en suite bathroom. It’s more than our last, because we can afford it now with our new careers, and I love that it has so much character.

We each even have a claw bathtub, which is goals. But one of the best parts for Claire is the kitchen. It’s huge and has everything a chef would want. I shut the fridge after placing the milk on the shelf and walk over to the pantry.

“So, tell me what’s up?” she says after I exit the pantry. My best girl grabs the wine bottle opener from the drawer and lifts herself onto the counter.

“Missing Bryce?” she asks as she pops the cork.

I shrug and slide two wine glasses off the glass rack. We’ve moved up from drinking wine out of cups, but I feel like things were simpler then.

We didn’t have much, but we made do. Now we have more responsibilities and confusing relationships.

“Let’s not talk about it. How was your day?”

“Good. We’ve got a Christmas party coming up.”

“Really?” I ask, thinking that sounds fun.

“Yeah. You should come with me. It’s employees only, but who cares. It’s this week.”

“I think I’ll do that.”

“Good.” She smiles and reaches over to grab the mail. “Our light bill here is a lot higher than at our last place,” she says, searching through the pile of envelopes.

“Well, look at these ceilings.” I dart my eyes up.

She smirks. “Yeah. They’re amazing right?”

I kinda laugh. “That’s not what I was getting at, but yeah, they’re pretty badass.”

“Oh, here’s something for you,” she says, reaching her hand out with an envelope in it as she searches through the rest of the mail. I place my glass on the counter and take it from her.

“It’s a letter.” My heart does a frontward flip before it jumps from its diving board straight into the pit of my wine-filled stomach. Oxygen freezes in my lungs, and my veins run ice cold. Why did I even look at the stupid thing?

“Kat? Who’s it from?” Claire asks. I look up at my friend before tossing the thing onto the counter.

“Bethany.”

“Bethany?” she questions.

“Yeah, my mom.”

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