Bring Me Back

“Speaking of that,” Casey says as they move into the apartment, “are you still nixing the baby shower thing?”


I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to them since I was at Group yesterday. Several people said they were interested in coming, even some of the men, so it doesn’t seem so pointless.

“I changed my mind. I want one.”

Casey squeals and fist pumps the air. “Yes,” she cries. “I knew you’d regret it if you told us no.”

“Please don’t make people play any of those stupid games,” I plead, swishing my hands back in forth in an X motion.

“No promises.” Casey grins evilly.

“So,” I say, “what’s this housewarming present you speak of?” I ask.

“Oh, here.” Chloe holds out a carefully wrapped package. “It’s from all of us.”

I rip off the paper, balling it up and tossing it on the floor. In my hand I hold a picture frame with a picture of us a few years ago on New Year’s Eve. I touch my finger to the glass, smiling wistfully. Ben took that photo.

“Squish together,” Ben said, bringing his hands together like we didn’t know what to do. “Closer, closer. There.”

By that point the four of us were a giggling mess, our arms wrapped each other. The flash went off and then someone yelled across the room, “It’s almost time!”

“Ten, nine—”

“Ben,” I cried, stumbling over my own two feet and collapsing against his chest. “I have to get my New Year’s kiss.”

He laughed and steadied me.

“Six, five—”

“You think you’ll still want to kiss me next year?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“One.”

He bent down and pressed his lips firmly against mine. My fingers tangled in his silky strands of blond hair and deepened the kiss. He broke the kiss with a half-grin. Around us people cheered and gold confetti rained down on us.

He picked a piece of confetti off my nose. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The memory leaves me feeling sad, but happy at the same time. It’s a strange combination but it’s the truth.

“Thanks for this,” I say.

“You’re welcome,” Casey replies, looking at me uneasily. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.” I nod. I don’t feel like I’m going to cry, surprisingly.

“Good,” Chloe claps, “because there’s more.” She produces a card from her purse. “Again, from all of us.”

I open it up and find a gift card to a local home store. “Thanks guys. You really didn’t have to do this.”

“We wanted to,” Hannah says.

“That’s what friends are for.” Casey hugs me and takes a seat on the barstool.

“I really do love you guys,” I say, clutching the picture frame to my chest. “Thank you, for being there for me, for all you—”

“Please do not go all Ya Ya Sisterhood on my ass.” Casey holds up a hand to stop me. I can’t help but laugh. “Now please tell me your pregnant ass still has some wine around here somewhere.”

I laugh again and point. “I was saving that.”

“Well, now you’re not.” She grabs the bottle and starts rummaging through the drawers for the corkscrew. Casey has never had any problem making herself at home.

I twist my engagement ring around on my finger. I’ve continued to wear it, because I didn’t want to part with it, but now I think I’m ready. I expected to have this huge monumental sort of moment when I finally decided—like doves flying and music playing—but of course it’s not like that. It almost seems fitting that my friends are here with me when I finally decide to do it.

They’re busy pouring their wine into glasses so they don’t see me pull it off and place it on the counter.

Hannah is the first to notice when she turns back around. “Is that …?” She pauses, afraid to say it.

I nod.

“Blaire,” Casey says, her eyes filling with tears. “Are you sure?”

I nod. “It’s time. I’m ready.”

We start to cry and they wrap their arms around me. I can’t help but think back to the photo where we were holding onto each other. It was for a very different reason, but true friends will be there no matter what. For the good and the bad. I know I’m lucky to have people I can count on and I’ll never take them for granted. Not ever again.





Stage Five: Acceptance

“Hey, Ben,” I whisper. It doesn’t feel right to speak at full volume.

Not here. Not in a cemetery.

My dress blows around my legs and my hair whips against my shoulders. It’s an unusually cool and windy day for early August. Normally, the weather stays blazing hot until the end of the month.

“I miss you,” I continue. “So damn much.” I clear my throat, my emotions getting the better of me. I really thought I could do this without crying but it doesn’t seem likely. “It’s taken me eight long months but I’ve finally accepted things. I never thought I would, but I did. I know you’ve probably been up there yelling at me to get my shit together. I’m sorry for disappointing you.”

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