Page 25 of Beautiful Broken Love

I wouldn’t have considered myself an alcoholic, but whenever I’d needed to loosen up and kill the noise, I’d grabbed a bottle. I’d have a glass or two every night after work, but when life got harder, I’d tack on another glass.

There had been one night in particular, when I created my vow to slow down on drinking. Lew was feeling ill, so I helped him get into bed early. I thought he was asleep, so while I worked, I drank about two or three glasses of wine. Eventually, the work was put aside, and I fell asleep on the couch.

What I didn’t realize then was that Lew woke up in the middle of the night and vomited several times. Meanwhile, my sorry ass was passed out a room away and oblivious to it.

When he told me about it the next morning, I wanted to cry. I felt so guilty for not being there for him. He kept assuring me it was fine, that he was okay, but none of it was okay. I’d drunk myself into a damn coma while my husband had been suffering all night.

It was that day I had promised him and myself I’d cut back on drinking. I’d needed to change anyway ... but I suppose none of that really mattered anymore.

Octavia took the chair next to mine and spread a blanket over her legs.

“Hey,” I called as she held her glass in the air to adjust herself without spillage. When she looked up, I smiled. “Thank you for being here for me these last couple of days, Octavia—hell, the last couple ofmonths. It means a lot.”

“Oh, girl. Stop. That’s what I’m here for.” She waved a dismissive hand at me, but I didn’t miss the proud grin on her face.

“No, I mean it. I wouldn’t even be functioning right now if it weren’t for you.”

“Well, you know Mama and Abe were here too. Did you call her?”

“Here we go. Just take the gratitude, Tavia.” I swirled my wine in the glass.

Yes, my mom and little brother had come down once they’d heard about Lew, and they’d been there for the funeral. But that’s what mothers weresupposedto do, right? Be there for their daughters? Make sure they were okay?

I wasn’t sure why this feeling had come over me the last few years, but I’d developed a bitterness toward my mother that I couldn’t shake. It was stupid, because all I had to do was let it go and pretend nothing was wrong, like I had all those years ago, but that was hard to do when I realized how short life was.

The decisions she’d made when I was younger affected me even now. I bet my life could’ve been so much better had she stepped up to the plate, but she hadn’t until I was almost out of high school.

“I’m just saying!” My sister threw an innocent hand in the air. “If Abe didn’t have camp, she’d be here right now.”

I pursed my lips. I wanted to ignore Octavia, but when I met her eyes, I softened.

“I know.” I sighed, glancing at my little sister again. She gave me ayou know what to dolook. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“See? So easy, girl.”

My mouth twitched just as my doorbell rang.

“Who is that?” Octavia asked, eyeing me.

That was a good question, considering it was nearly eight o’clock at night.

I checked the security camera app on my phone, but when I saw who it was, I grimaced. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

I climbed out of my chair and went inside to open the front door. A woman stood on the other side, her snow-white skin flushed and her hair in a neat chestnut bun atop her head.

Her brows were so thin they may as well have been penciled in, and her eyes ... well, I couldn’t hate them, because they were just like Lew’s. Hazel and surrounded by thick lashes. It was my former mother-in-law, Gloria Roberts.

I leaned against the frame of the door and folded my arms. “Have you ever heard of a phone call, Gloria?”

Gloria turned her nose up at me. “It’s the first birthday of Lewis’s since he passed,” she stated.

“I’m well aware of that.”

“I was on this side of town and thought I’d visit his grave. That’s when I remembered the photo album with all his baby pictures in them. He asked to borrow it so he could show them toyou.”

She looked me up and down in my sweats and hoodie, like she was searching for whatever it was about me that appealed to her son.

“Do you want your photo album back?” I asked, ready for her to get out of my face already.

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