As I step through the doorway, my heart folds inside my chest. This homecoming couldn’t be more opposite of the one I’d envisioned. I’d pictured Max dramatically scooping me up and carrying me over the threshold, me giggling as he nuzzled his face in my neck, kissing me just below the ear, sending electric charges through my abdomen. But as I drop my suitcase now, the thud from the luggage hitting the hardwood floor echoes through the vacant house, underscoring the emptiness inside of me.
I draw my breath hard into my lungs and release it slowly, remembering Jules’ advice on our flight home: just take everything one moment at a time. I turn at the sound of her footsteps behind me. She’s gripping a suitcase in each hand and has a tote slung over each shoulder, looking like a Sherpa as she walks up. After I’d dissolved into tears as my luggage descended the conveyor belt at LAX, she’d demanded that she carry all of my bags, only letting me be in charge of one small carry-on.
“I didn’t get very far,” I say as I reach out to grab the straw purse that’s sliding down her arm—the one I’d planned to stuff with magazines and books and take to the private poolside cabana Max and I had rented for the first day of our honeymoon on the island of Lanai.
“You’re inside. That’s something.” She presses her lips together forming a slight smile, releasing the rest of my bags around her feet.
I nod, my eyes resting on one of the pink luggage tags that reads Bride.
“So”—she laces her fingers through mine—“let’s take a few more steps. If we’re diligent, we might get to the staircase by nightfall.” Her eyes are sympathetic as she nudges me with her elbow.
I turn to face her, my hand still tightly gripping hers. “Thank you.”
“It goes without saying.”
“Well, I’d still be in a heap on the floor of the bridal suite if it weren’t for you,” I say. Jules had called the airline and changed my flight; she’d neatly folded and packed all of my bikinis, maxi dresses, and even my lingerie into my suitcase; and she’d put my wedding dress into the garment bag—the sound of the zipper sealing it inside making me feel nauseous.
“You’re going to get through this,” she says, interrupting my thoughts. Then when she catches my skeptical expression, adds, “I promise.”
“I’m going to have to trust you on this one, considering I’m not even sure how I’m going to lift my arms to brush my teeth tonight.”
“I’ll help you. I’m staying over.”
“Jules, you can’t. The kids. Ben—”
“It’s already done. Ben loves you as much as I do and wanted me here with you. . . .” She pauses, amusement in her eyes. “Plus, better him than me dealing with the kids adjusting to the time difference!”
We laugh. It feels foreign, almost like a betrayal of my pain, making me wonder how long it will be before the laughter rolls comfortably off my tongue like it used to.
“Well, please thank him for me.”
“Will you stop? It’s an unwritten rule that best friends take care of each other and best friends’ husbands understand. You’d do the same for me.”
“Well, if Ben ever leaves you, I will kill him,” I say matter-of-factly. “I need you to know that.”
Jules smiles wryly at my declaration and then regards me for a few moments, no doubt taking in my disheveled appearance—my oily face and the dark circles around my eyes exposing the stress of the last two days. My unwashed hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail and I’m wearing the same pair of sweats I’d woken up in yesterday.
Finally, Jules says simply, “Well, you definitely look the part of someone who can wield a weapon.” She points to my puffy eyes and my sweatpants hanging low on my hips. Jules grabs my hand again. “Now, follow me. One foot in front of the other.”