I whirled around and looked at Ben in his black pants and pressed blue dress shirt, holding a bottle of wine and two stemmed glasses. A wave of irritation rolled through me. I shook it off and forced myself to feel embarrassment again. “No, I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect you to be home so early.” It was his date’s turn to blush. She took a step away from him and looked down at her pretty black stilettos. “I didn’t mean to say that you shouldn’t have come early. Or that you couldn’t come home early. I just, what I meant to say, was that I expected your date to last longer.” Oh, god. I slapped a hand over my eyes. “No, that’s not what I meant either. Obviously, your date is still going on. I… I… I’m going to stop talking now.”
“Probably for the best.” I could hear the grin in Ben’s voice so I refused to look at him.
“Hi, I’m Liz,” I said to his date instead. She probably hated me by now, but I felt the need to explain my presence. Hopefully that would help Ben regain whatever footing I’d caused him to lose. “I live next door.”
“Hi, Liz. I’m Megan.” She reached out politely to take my hand. The towel hung awkwardly in front of me and when Megan took her hand away it was wet from mine.
“I’m Emma,” my sister said brightly when she shook Megan’s hand next.
“Hi, Emma,” Ben greeted in his smooth tone.
“Hi, Ben,” my sister giggled adding to my humiliation even more.
The four of us stood there rocking on our heels for another minute and the tension was painful. I finally met Ben’s dark gaze and pressed my lips together to keep from cringing from the force of it. A slow smile spread across his full mouth and I knew I was forgiven, but I still felt bad about this small interruption to his date.
“Well, we’ll get going!” I announced in a rush. “Ben, I’m so sorry! I should have thought ahead.”
He shook off my apology with a jerk of his chin. “It’s fine, Liz. I’m the one that offered my pool. Use it any time.”
“Thanks.” I started walking backwards. “Thank you.” Emma moved with me. We were almost to the gate.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night?” he called after me.
What? I might have panicked when I replied, “I can’t tomorrow! We’ll talk. I’ll talk to you later.” Then I turned around and basically fled for my house.
Emma hurried to keep up with me. “Oh, god,” she groaned miserably. “That was so awkward!”
“I know!” I hissed. “I didn’t expect him to bring her home with him!”
Emma threw her head back and laughed. “That’s because you haven’t been on a second date in like fifteen years!”
“It hasn’t been fifteen years!” Only twelve. The difference between Ben Tyler and me punched me in the side and I lost my breath. He was on a second date and hoping to get lucky. I would never be in that position again. He was at the very beginning of his love life and I had watched mine wither and die. He was free to date whomever he wanted and I had buried the greatest love of my life.
I stumbled in the cool grass, nearly crippled by the weight of that realization. Emma was in the same place as Ben, but for some reason it had never bothered me when I thought about her dating life or future with a man.
Ben’s differences stood out painfully from mine. He spotlighted the finality of my husband’s death and the depressing loneliness I had to look forward to from now on.
Ben would eventually find a girl, maybe Megan, fall in love, get married and go on to live in blissful matrimony.
From this moment on I would grieve Grady, there would never be anything else for me.
“Liz, what was Ben talking about? Why did he want to see you tomorrow night?”
I looked at my beautiful, young, carefree sister and desperately wished I could trade places with her for just a few hours. I closed my eyes against the agony of my grief for just a moment before I met her curious gaze. “No reason,” I told her hoarsely. “Just neighbor stuff.”
“Sure, neighbor stuff. Because that’s a thing.”
I didn’t say anything and she didn’t push me. Emma always knew when not to push me. We dried off and put on our regular clothes again. The rest of the night was spent drinking the second bottle of sangria and watching reality television.
And I tried not to think about Ben Tyler and the date that I nearly ruined.
Stage Two: Anger
Denial came first. Then anger.
I thought working through denial was the hardest thing I would ever do. It had been crippling. But the problem with coming to terms with something as heartbreaking as losing the love of my life is that now I had to live with it.
This is my reality.
This.
This is who I am. Grady’s death made me this. A widow. A single mom. Heartbroken and lonely and frustrated and overwhelmed and gutted.
And more than everything else, angry.
I’m only thirty-two years old. I shouldn’t have to go through this at thirty-two. I shouldn’t have had to face Grady’s illness or the horror of his treatment or the traumatizing experience of watching my husband fade away.
I shouldn’t have to figure out how to raise four children on my own, without a partner, without the daddy they loved and looked up to. I shouldn’t have to comfort my sons who lost their hero or my daughters who lost the man that they should compare all others to.
I shouldn’t have to hurt like this. Weep like this. Long like this.
But I have no other choice and that made me so very angry.
While my heart and mind continue to work through my loss, life around me continues to go on. It moves without my permission. It propels me forward without my consent.
I need time to process everything, to work through these five stages and deal with each as they come. But that isn’t possible.
Time doesn’t stop and the days keep ending and beginning again and I move from denying that my husband isn’t coming back to feeling absolutely furious that I will never see him again. Never be with him again. Never touch him or look at him or breathe him in.
I can’t even be satisfied that I get to move beyond denial.
I am far too angry to care.
Chapter Nine
“Abby, hurry up! Your cereal is getting soggy!” I whirled around, armed with orange juice and a spoon for Lucy. There was a possibility we would be on time for school today.
“Mom, I have a game tonight, don’t forget.”
“Chuck!” Jace squealed. I pushed his toast back in front of him.