What If

As I sat there, it really sunk in that these people I’d spent the better part of a year with weren’t my real friends. If they knew I was missing from the house, not one of them came searching for me. Even worse - my wife had no clue where I was and gave up trying to find out a long time ago. I knew that it was up to me to pick myself up, backtrack, and learn to live my life again. I knew Lacey wouldn’t get her knees dirty to try and dig her way to my nearly closed casket. Maybe I was asking too much of her. I wanted her to do everything in her power to help me at my lowest point. It wasn’t fair for me to hold that against her, but I did.

I came to a conclusion that day. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was the right thing to do. I was heading back to Greenville, North Carolina. I was heading home. It was time for me to find myself again.





I recently moved into my own apartment. My and Killian’s divorce was finalized nearly six months ago, but it still took time for us both to pack up our stuff. Yes, I was twenty-five years old and already divorced. Then came the never-ending search for an apartment I could afford with my teaching salary and one which was still safe and comfortable to live in.

Killian was okay with me living in the house we shared during our marriage until I found a place of my own. Our separation wasn’t mean or cruel. We didn’t say hurtful things to each other. The break up was amicable, which made the fact that we weren’t together anymore even harder. Killian was a good man, a fantastic husband, and the kind of human being who would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. I didn’t deserve the kind of love he gave me, especially since I never truly gave him my one hundred percent. I was still shocked, in utter disbelief, when he said he wanted a divorce. His reasoning made sense, but I never thought the fact that I wasn’t ready for kids would be the load that broke the camel’s back. Still, I couldn’t argue with him. He wanted children as soon as we were married, and I didn’t see myself being prepared for that step for a long, long time. Who was I to stop him from finding that with someone else? Other women could make him a father and would be happy to do that; I was just holding him back from discovering that girl for himself.

The night of the divorce was a rough one for the both of us. It was our last night in the same house, the same bed together. It was the last night we’d ever make love. We took our time, showing each other the words we were too afraid to say. I felt the brokenness in each tender caress of his hands; I felt his hopelessness in each touch of his lips to my skin. I tried to show him remorse in not being what he needed me to be. When I looked into his eyes, I wanted him to see how grateful I was for the love he gave to me.

I couldn’t afford the house we shared, and Killian felt it was too big for one person to reside. He left the next day, but still came to visit on a regular basis to pack more of his things and to make sure I was okay.

Now that I finally had my own place, I could breathe. I looked around this new apartment and didn’t see memories of a time I’d never get back; I saw a new, blank canvas ready for me to start splashing it with color.



My life was coming together in a way I never imagined. I worked at the local school as a kindergarten teacher. I loved spending five days a week with forty quirky children, but I also loved handing them over to their parents at the end of the day. Darcy moved back to Greenville after graduating in Virginia and being unable to find a full time job. She now lived with two other girls who went to our high school; they shared a three-bedroom house. Having her back in my life on a regular basis made me smile more often and frown a bit less. God answered my prayers; a little over a year ago Arrow had been in critical condition. I learned a couple weeks after the horrible news that he woke up from his coma and was expected to make a full recovery. Darcy told me that he was back with his wife in California, but I hadn’t heard much about him since that news. I didn’t need more news than that. He was alive; that’s all I needed to know.



I was relaxing on the new, cocoa-colored couch I purchased with my latest check. It was fluffy, comfortable and mine. My phone went off.

“Hey, Darcy.” I laid my head back against the cushioned arm.

“You remember Miller from high school?” she asked me. No “hello’s” or “how ya doin’s.”

“Duh, I see him nearly every week at Beans and Reads.” It was the local coffee shop. Miller was a coffee addict after my own heart. We often ran into one another on our early morning runs for a caffeine pick-me-up.

“He’s having a New Year’s Eve party tonight.” Her voice rose with excitement.

“Oh, that’s nice,” I said nonchalantly.

“Go with me! Please? Everyone is going to be there. We can wear those new dresses we bought a couple months ago. They’re perfect.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little too chilly for those dresses?” I bit down on my lower lip and looked towards the hallway, picturing the thin material of the little black number I’d purchased on a whim.

“So you’ll go?” she questioned animatedly.

“I guess. I don’t have any other plans. I was just going to stay at home and read,” I admitted.

I could practically hear the rolling of her eyes. “You’re twenty-five not fifty-five. Get your ass off that cozy couch, shave those damn legs, and get ready girl! I’ll be over in a couple hours!”

“I shaved yesterday,” I whined.

“I don’t care. Shave again. That dress shows off the majority of your legs, so you need to be smooth.” She laughed. “We’re going to be like the hot twins.”

Darcy had this weird obsession with us buying the same clothes. She forced it on me, I swear. I put my foot down when she wanted us both to have the same exact color of everything too. Instead, she ended up with the blue version of the same dress. Why she wanted us to go to the same party wearing the same dress was beyond me. We didn’t even have the same type of body. Where she was tall, thin and willowy, I was short and curvy. I lost weight the past few years and was closer to her in weight than I’d ever been, but still, my boobs were bigger and my hips were much wider than hers. Any dress that was short on her was even shorter on me because my butt liked to absorb most of the cloth.

“Yeah, I always get to be the uglier twin,” I mumbled into the phone.

“Are you kidding me? Are we having a ‘woe is me’ party of one at your house right now?” she chastised. “Do you need someone to fluff your self-esteem today? Okay, fine, that’s what best friends are for. So you better be listening close because I mean every word. But I’m not going to repeat it.” I didn’t respond. “Are you listening?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“You’re a beautiful woman, Briar. You’ve got the curves of some Greek goddess; Persyly… Persondee…”

“It’s Persephone,” I corrected, struggling to not giggle.

“Yeah, that one. Your new, dark hair makes you look all dark and dramatic. It’s hot. If I were even remotely interested in women, your door would be the first one I’d be knocking on. So now that I’ve done my duty as best friend and made you feel all babeilicious, can you knock it off and go get ready?”