I smile hesitantly up at Sway and his dreamy eyes. “Sway, babe? You know I love you, but I have no interest in you fixing me up. None. So get it out of your head right now.”
“Oh girl, one of these days you will meet a man and he is going to knock you right on your ass! Mark my words, girlfriend. Knock you straight on that perfect little ass!” he replies with a naughty grin.
“Doubtful, Sway. I am done with the male gender. I might even take a page out of your book and start batting for my own team.” I laugh and sit back, allowing myself to relax now that the scissor-wielding man has calmed down.
Dee and I finish up with Sway and his minions of beauty right around five with just enough time to rush home and get dressed before Greg comes to take us to dinner.
Pulling up to the house, I notice a package on the step. Calling out to Dee, I step out of the car and grab a few bags, stopping to pick up the package and unlock the door. Dropping the bags in my hand, I quickly disarm the security system and make my way into the kitchen. Dee comes in right when I drop the package on the island and turn for a knife.
“What’s that?” she asks.
“Not sure. No return address. Probably something from a client for my birthday,” I reply, distracted by my mission to cut away the tape.
Dee goes about her own business, walking down the hall to her room, surely to start her getting ready process.
Cutting the rest of the packaging tape away, I peel open the flaps and start moving around the packaging popcorn.
I move a folded piece of paper out of the way, placing it on the counter, and remove what appears to be a frame. Carefully turning it over, I gasp and drop the picture to the ground, shattering the glass all around my feet.
Dee comes running down the hall at my noise, trying to figure out what has me so spooked. She bends down and picks up the frame, turning it over to reveal the picture.
“That motherfucker,” she says under her breath. “What a fucking motherfucker!” she screams.
Through the tears streaming down from my eyes, I look down at the photo of Brandon and me. He’s taken something sharp and scraped away the belly part of my body. He is looking at me through the picture with that handsome, perfect smile on his face, his arm around my back holding me close to his body. I look sad but I’m still smiling. I think this was taken during our last Christmas together at one of his company parties. The arm not behind my back was resting on the portion of my stomach he so harshly scraped and dug off the picture.
Dee picks up the paper I laid out on the counter. Giving a quick peek, she slams it back down looking like she could spout steam at any second.
“Bastard! That bastard . . . I’m going to cut off his balls and feed them to him before I kill him with my bare hands. Fucker!” She starts looking around for her phone, momentarily forgetting she left the paper where I could see it.
I look down, and in his angry scrawl, I read, “Feeling empty today? How old would the bastard be this year? Happy birthday, dear wife.”
Surprisingly, the sobs don’t start right away. I stand there just looking down at the paper for the longest time, and when it hits, it hits hard.
Stumbling back a few steps until my back hits the wall, I slide down onto my ass, curling my legs up to my chest and wrapping an arm around myself protectively. My forehead hits my knees and everything I have been carefully storing in the ‘do not open’ box in my head comes pouring out. Giant, body-shaking sobs release, and I’m gasping for breaths between them. My whole frame is jerking violently with the force of my grief.
Dee comes rushing into the room. I can hear her on the phone, but she is so far away from my understanding right now. Her arms come around me and I feel her rocking me while still mumbling into the phone. The tears won’t stop coming and the crying is getting louder.
I have no idea how long I stay ass to the floor in the kitchen, crying and rocking. I look up briefly when I feel strong arms wrap around me and hook under my legs, lifting me off the floor. Another sob catches my breath when I meet Greg’s pained blue eyes. Resting my head on his chest, I let him take the lead. Walking over to the couch, he sits down and keeps me close to his body.
As grateful as I am for Dee, for everything she has done for me, it’s moments like this when the only thing that can make me feel safe is being held tight in Greg’s strong arms.