Page 54 of Pieces of Me

Before I can respond, Maggie appears in the doorway with Dad by her side. She claps her hands before rubbing them together. “I’m good now.”

Jamie’s quick to get up from her seat and move toward Maggie. “Oh, Mags. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Maggie says, hugging her. “But don’t make me cry again, or else I’ll tie you down and force you to stay.” They separate at the same time, and then Maggie says, “Now, let’s enjoy our last night together.”

Last night together?

We eat dinner. Or everyone else does. I can barely chew my food, let alone swallow. And I don’t understand how everyone else is talking andlaughing and acting as if this isn’t some life-altering news.

Jamie isleaving.

This is our

last

night

together…

They’re three simple words that seem to echo through my mind, like bombs exploding throughout my head, one after the other, and I can’t… I can’t fucking think. I stand so fast that my chair tips over, and I’m grabbing my keys and what little sense I can still hold on to. “I have to go.”

“Holden!” Maggie gasps, but I’m already out of the room.

Before I close the front door, I hear Dad say, “Let him go. He needs to work through it on his own.”

* * *

It’s three hours later when I knock on Jamie’s door, and I haven’t worked through shit. I don’t even know if I’d be standing here if I hadn’t emptied my pockets, only to realize I still had the fucking pill.

That’s a lie.

I went home, paced, tried to relax, tried to think about anythingbuther, and spent every minute convincing myself not to come back. I know I’d be here, pill or no pill.

I step back when the door comes right at me, and then she’s right there, freshly showered, short shorts and a tank top—no bra.Great.Without a word, I reach into my pocket, pull out the box, and hold it out between us.

“Thank you,” she says, grabbing it from me. “I wasn’t sure if you had it or not. I was going to get it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow… once you leave here?”

She shakes her head, brow bunching in the middle. “I’m not leaving tomorrow.”

“But Maggie said—”

“It’sourlast night together—me and Maggie—because she has that wedding tomorrow. I fly out on Monday morning.”

Monday morning.

Two more nights.

One full day.

My lungs kick back in as if remembering their purpose, and I inhale a full breath for the first time in three hours. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” She opens the door wider, and I step inside her home for only the second time in an entire week. She has flattened boxes between the front seats, a few built with items already packed. I stand just inside the door as she takes a bottle of water from the small fridge, then swallows down the pill.

“The lady at the pharmacy said you could bleed, and maybe nausea or something…” This is the absolute last conversation I want to be having right now. “She said that if you vomit within the next twenty-four hours, then you need to go back and get another one because—”

“I got it,” she cuts in. “Thank you for doing that for me.”

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