She wasn’t even sure what she was apologizing for as she rocked herself and cried, but she kept saying it until her voice grew even hoarser, looking at that woman in the mirror the whole time, Touchdown nuzzling her legs in comfort.
A new emotion finally flowed in, like a warm breeze after a brutally cold day. The pain started to ebb away, replaced by a feeling so soft and luminous she pressed her hand to her heart. It took her a moment to give it a name.
It was love.
The kind of love she felt when she was with Blake and her family. That simple, beautiful feeling that made her feel whole and complete.
But this time she felt it for herself.
Her hand lifted to her mouth of its own accord, and she blew that woman in the mirror a kiss.
She wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t mad. She was hurting. And somehow, she now had enough compassion to see that and love that part of herself anyway, the part she’d always judged too ugly for compassion.
Did she like to cry? No. But she sometimes felt better after she did. Maybe it was time to start allowing her emotions to be whatever they were. She loved her mother, but she didn’t want to end up like her, concealing a secret and a pain all alone. Or like her father, turning inward whenever he faced a problem. Not when she had so many people who loved her to comfort her through it.
Blake.
Thoughts of him made the cold come back, but this time their whispers rained new ice over her skin.
You said he was suffocating you. You pushed him away. You’ve lost him for good.
She had pushed him away, trying to scurry back behind the broken wall of numbness he’d been helping her disassemble. She’d wanted to escape the pain of reality. And she’d shoved him away just as she’d shoved that part of herself away.
But she didn’t want that anymore, not with this new awareness of herself, not with this soft, sweet feeling of her self-love keeping her warm despite the cold wasteland that surrounded her once again.
She stripped off her clothes and let the water in the shower clean away the abrasive powder she’d ground into its tiles. Then she washed herself, letting her hands linger over her body in gentle comfort, as if she were bathing Kim, which she’d done several times when her friend was too ill to leave her hospital bed. Her touch was gentle and comforting. Her heart expanded even more in her chest at her ministrations. When she turned off the water and looked at herself in the mirror this time, she saw a new woman standing there. One who’d started to love herself—no matter what.
Touchdown stayed close to her as she dressed in fresh clothes. Her wet hair would have to do. She had one person she needed to see. He wasn’t in her house, waiting for her like he had once before. Her belly ached now.
It was after two o’clock in the morning, she realized when she glanced at the clock in the kitchen. It didn’t matter. Blake wouldn’t be asleep. No, he’d be hurting. But she would make it right. Somehow they’d make it right together. She loved him, and he loved her. She didn’t want any more barriers between them. As she made her way across her backyard to the bridge he’d built, the one he’d extended into her frozen wasteland, all her doubts melted away and she knew she wanted to be married to him again.
There was no one for her but Blake.
The stars above seemed so close tonight, as if they were floating around her head. When she reached the bridge, she stuttered to a halt.
For the first time since he’d turned them on, the lights were out on the bridge. Her lips trembled, and her hand felt the wooden beams like she was trying to read Braille until they found the infinity symbol he had carved into the wood there to remind her of the truth.
He was her bridge to a better life.
Gratitude swelled in her heart as she let herself in the back door of his house. There were a few lights on.
“Blake?” she called out.
Then she saw a white piece of paper resting against a water glass on the kitchen island. He had always been an early riser, and back when they first started dating, he used to leave her love notes to read when she came downstairs in the morning. He’d continued it into their marriage, and she’d always found it unbearably sweet.
As she approached the note, her every muscle was rigid with tension. Touchdown barked and headed off, going to the garage door. Alarms immediately starting clanging in her head.
She didn’t even need to pick up the note to know what it said, but she did anyway.
Touchdown is yours. You need him more than I do. Be at peace, Nat.
Her arms wrapped around herself as reality filtered in. Even though she knew she wouldn’t find his SUV in the garage, she still made herself walk to the door Touchdown was pawing. When she opened it, sure enough, it was empty.
He was gone.