Page 8 of Fourteen Years

“Oh…okay?” she looked confused now. “What is it then? Are you sick?” she looked slightly panicked now.

“No. Monica. I just wanted to tell you that I’m here for you. I’m here to talk to if you need someone. Not just something for the girls like last night. I’m here for you, hon.” I said.

She stilled, looking at me intently for a minute. Her eyes were filled with tears that she was rapidly trying to blink back. I continued staring at her seriously.

“I’m fine.” she said, looking down at her lap where her hands lay, fingers intertwined nervously.

I scooted closer, just slightly, and reached over, laying my hand over hers, stilling them.

“Mon,” I said softly.

Then she broke. I didn't even know how to describe the sound that came out of her. It was like the night we’d learned Paul had died. Only this time it wasn’t a scream. It was just a broken, tired sob and she curled in on herself.

“Monica,” I said again, scooting up against her now, wrapping her in my arms. I’d just let her cry for now. I wondered how long it had been since she’d actually let herself.

“I’m not okay,” she blurted out. “Everyday people ask me if I’m okay. You’re like the sixth person today. People that know Paul or me, or of Paul and me. They ask twenty-four-seven if I’m okay. I’m not. Why would I be okay? What do they expect me to say? I have a seventeen-year-old and thirteen-year-old I’m suddenly raising alone. I’m expected to move on, daily. I feel like with everything happening in my best friend's life I can’t ask for help. I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep in my bed-”

“Whoa, slow down.” I’d known she was holding a lot in but this broken, sob-filled monologue was taking me off guard.

She swiped at her tears, angrily, even as she kept sobbing and continued.

“Lucas and you mowed my lawn for a few weeks but I felt so guilty over it. You all have lives and I felt like I couldn’t keep asking. Did you know I had to search YouTube to learn how to run the mower? I had to YouTube how to fix a leak in the shower the other day too. Then there's the girls, they used to go to Paul for so much more than I realized. Now they feel like they can’t talk to me about anything involving him or I’ll go off. Like some timebomb waiting to explode.”

I squeezed her tighter, letting her rant.Jesus.

“I haven’t even slept in my own bed since the night before Paul died. I can’t. I move to the couch after the girls lay down for the night. I can’t go through his clothes. I can’t ask anyone to help me. I feel like everyones moved on and I’m frozen in time. Some days are good and I feel like I could start trying to move on if I had someone there to help me, but the next day I’m terrified of that thought process. Of getting rid of the way things were and forgetting him. Like it's a slap in Paul’s face. It was Monica and Paul for fourteen years, Trev.”

She finally stopped, sobbing into my shoulder, as I just stared down at the top of her messy bun. That was a lot more information than I thought she’d give me. I hadn’t expected her to open up so thoroughly to me although I was glad she had. I squeezed my arms tighter in what I hoped was a comforting hug.

Monica’s sobs were becoming hiccups and she was practically laying against me. I cleared my throat and tried to speak softly.

“Mon. Paul wouldn’t have wanted this for you. He even told me that at one point.”

She jerked back, straightening and staring at me. Her glasses had water on them and she was so adorably disheveled I was having trouble focusing.

“What do you mean?” she hiccuped. I watched her hands nervously fall to her lap. Her fingers found the sapphire ring that Paul had left instructions for Lucas and Becks to give her if something had ever happened to him. His ashes were a part of it and she never took it off since she’d gotten it for Christmas.

“Paul used to talk to me about his job and the dangers.” I shrugged, sitting up with my arms on my knees. “He didn’t want me to let you live your life alone with those girls if anything ever happened to him.” I continued, keeping it basic.

“You’re thirty-eight years old, Monica. No one deserves to live their life alone. The things you just told me? Any one of us would’ve helped you with. You’re not a burden at all. You don’t have to do it alone. Becks and Lucas would feel horrible if they knew you weren’t going to them with things. Especially Becks. She’s been berating herself for all her happy events, according to Lucas, because she knows you’ve been holding back and not letting things out. But, even if you felt you couldn't go to them with things. Mon, You have me, what about me?”

My eyes swung to hers.

“You should know that I am here. I will always be here, Monica. We used to be married. We have a damn daughter together. Do you need a leaky shower fixed? I can do it. Do you need someone to cry on? I’m your guy. You need someone to help you go through Paul’s things? Tell me when, sweetheart.”

Her eyes started watering again at my words, and she removed her glasses with shaky hands, tears trailing down her flushed cheeks.

“I’m just so scared. I’ve been so scared.” she broke again.

I had her back in my arms, rubbing her back soothingly.

“Well. Now I know, and you don’t have to be.” I promised.

Chapter 05

Sighing, I took a healthy drink of my coffee. Instead of making it at home this morning, I’d splurged and gotten us all iced coffee at the shop in town. Lexi liked to think she was drinking coffee at least. Hers was more glorified chocolate milk at this point.

It made me chuckle to watch her swirl her cup around, watching her older sister to see just how she did it. My oldest was suddenly drinking nearly black coffee and it made me want to gag. She’d surpassed me on that front. She asked for a splash of cream and drank it like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. Trevor’s was in the fridge waiting for him, since he’d told me the other day he had given up the energy drinks.

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