Page 81 of Dearly Unbeloved
“Minah and Annie just got engaged, and they’re training a guide dog puppy. Parker’s mom is in the hospital, so he’s been taking care of his little brother. Angie just applied for her PhD. Joey has a newborn, and Karen, Harry, and Ken all have kids too. Imogen and Kai just booked a cruise for next summer. They’re so excited about it. Maren’s sewing business is taking off. They all have so much to live for.”
The implication is clear, even if I don’t say it: they do, I don’t.
Sierra’s face crumples, and I immediately regret saying anything when tears fill her eyes.
“Rose. You can’t do that. You’re worth saving. You have so much to live for. You’re about to be an aunt, and your siblings are finally getting to spend time with you. They’ve always wanted that. The bunnies would miss you like crazy—we both know they like you more, even though I adopted them. And I…” She trails off, looking away and pressing her lips together like she’s trying to physically stop herself from speaking.
“Please think about what we talked about and go to your doctor,” she begs, her voice watery. “Your last thought before you might die shouldn’t be that everyone else is worth saving more than you.”
“That wasn’t my last thought.”
Sierra looks back at me, and her gaze falls to my hands. I look down, not realizing I’m absentmindedly rubbing the spot on my finger wheremy ring usually sits. It’s become a habit, something to calm me when I need it. Even when I’m not wearing my ring, apparently. No one has told me yet how much I’m allowed to move my fingers on my broken arm, so I force myself to stop.
“I’ll make an appointment for the new year,” I promise, and Sierra releases a breath. “I’m still on the fence about medication, but therapy worked well for Maggie and Jazz, so I’m going to try it.”
“Thank you. I’ll go by the apartment and check on the bunnies, and I’ll bring you some clean clothes and your contacts and stuff later,” she promises, standing up and tugging her sweater down. For the first time, I notice a second chain on top of her collar. Whatever pendant is on the necklace is hidden below the neckline of her thick sweater.
“You don’t have to come back all this way today.”
“I know, but I’m going to. Is there anything else you want from the apartment? Your book?”
“It’s a really heavy hardback, and I don’t think I could focus on the tiny text.” This is what I get for being a purist and refusing to get a Kindle, even though Jazz, Liam, and Xan all swear by them.
“I gave my keys to Jazz, so I’ll get them from her and be back soon.”
“Take my keys. They should be in that bag,” I say, pointing to the plastic bag in the corner of the room. “They put everything I had on me in there.”
She picks the bag up and sets it on the rolling table with her back to me as she rummages through it.
“Got the—” She goes still for a splitsecond before clearing her throat. “Got them.” She puts them into her pocket before turning around and placing my phone on the nightstand. I didn’t even think to ask for it since I haven’t been alone for a second since I got here.
“I’ll be back soon. Text me if you need anything.”
She’s almost at the door when I call her name. Sierra stops and looks back at me.
“The key is in my nightstand drawer, so you can take it off,” I say, gesturing toward her neck.
Sierra’s hand flies to her throat, toying with the collar and the second chain. “I don’t want to take it off,” she says, fanning the little flame of hope I should know better than to get attached to.
40
SIERRA
My heart feels battered and bruised as I trudge up the stairs to our apartment—Rose’s apartment. I could’ve taken the elevator, but it’s the end of the workday and the chances of not running into one of our neighbors are slim to none.
Seeing Rose again was like a punch to the gut. I thought I missed her before, thought I craved her before, but now? I feel it all over me, from the tips of my toes to my stupid fucking brain that thought leaving was the best thing to do.
I should’ve been there to make her coffee this morning. I should’ve kissed her goodbye before work and told her I loved her, and I should’ve been in that hospital room the second I could. Time after time, I’ve failed her.
I know I have no right to be, but I’m so fucking proud of her for standing up to her parents. If she hates me forever because of how I treated her, it will have been worth it for that—that, and the fact she’s going to start therapy.
For the most part, the apartment hasn’t changed in the two weeks I’ve been gone, but there’s a vase of dead purpleroses on the kitchen island that stops me in my tracks. The leaves are crispy and curled, and there’s a puddle of petals around the vase. I reach out to brush a leaf with my pinky, and it disintegrates. I have no idea what to make of them.
Near the bunny enclosure, a blowup mattress is sitting with a neat pile of blankets and pillows on top. Has she been sleeping out here?
When I let the bunnies out, they’re more interested in me than food. “I’m sorry I left,” I murmur, holding Dibbles to my chest while Thorne snuggles on my lap. “I’ve missed you—and your mama.”
I can’t tell Rose, so I tell them: how I know I fucked up, how I’ve hated myself every day since, how I don’t know how to fix things. I tell them how scared I was, not knowing if Rose was okay, how much she loves them, how she’ll be home to them soon. I think I’m trying to reassure myself more than them, and it works.
