Then, I shuffled through my phone until I found the forbidden playlist, the one filled with songs from my relationship with Keith.
Our first date, first dance at our wedding, songs that he’d dedicated to me, songs that reminded me of him. I played it loud, drank my wine, and looked through social media at all the photos from our past.
He called me at ten, the same time he always did, and that was my only indicator of what time it was at all that entire night. Because after I let the rings die out, I stayed there on the couch, laptop plugged in and wine bottle in a bucket of ice on the table. I refilled my glass, replayed the songs, and let myself feel.
I marveled at the good times, at the days and nights we were happiest. I also sobbed at how far back I could scroll through our pictures and see myself so unhappy. My decision hadn’t been made overnight, but had rather cooked slowly for years. I saw us smiling at a friend’s cookout, but my heart remembered the fight in the car when we left. I saw us holding hands as we walked the Pike Place market, but my heart remembered how that day marked nearly three months of no intimacy between us.
I understood now why my friends and family had been so shocked at my decision. How could they understand when all I’d shown them for years was endless love and happiness?
I’d kept my heart covered, my emotions chained, and tonight I would finally give myself permission to let them free.
By the time my head hit the pillow, I was emotionally exhausted. My eyes were swollen, head pounding, and though it hurt like hell, I knew I had to fight to forgive myself. I didn’t know when it would happen, or even if it was possible, but I owed it to myself to try.
So, before I closed my eyes, I reached over to the bedside table and pulled up the playlist once more. For a moment I stared at the screen, chest tight with memories, and then I let my thumb drop to tap the delete button.
I wasn’t going to argue with myself anymore over whether my choices had been selfish or brave. I didn’t care if they were either. Because they were right, for me. This was my life, and I only had one. I didn’t know how long it would be, I didn’t know who would be in it, but I did know that I deserved to live it.
Happily.
And that’s what I intended to do.
METAMORPHOSIS
meta·mor·pho·sis
Noun
A striking alteration in appearance, character, or circumstances
Dani hated the pig roast.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love being around all our family and friends, but she hated the fact that the day centered around cooking an animal—especially when said animal still looked like a cute little pig. She’d only watched us lower the pig into the ground once, and after that, she’d never eaten at the pig roast again. In fact, she declared herself vegan on that very day, and she was true to her word until the day she passed away.
I usually woke up sad on the day of the pig roast, wishing she could be here for it, but today I woke up with the worst anxiety of my life.
I was sad that I didn’t get to see Wren last night, nervous about what that meant, scared of how she felt after seeing her mom, excited to be the one to experience today with her—if she even showed. And while all those emotions were rolling through me about Wren, I also took note of the fact that my guilt over Dani’s death wasn’t what occupied the majority of my thoughts anymore.
I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but I knew it was big. I knew I needed to ask myself more about it. I knew I was terrified to know the answer.
It was just past ten in the morning now, and Ron and I were checking on the pig in the open lot across from Davie and Yvette’s cabin. It had been filled with long tables and chairs, as well as multiple tents in the back where those not living in cabins would bunker down for the night.
We couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day—the sun was shining, temperature stretching its legs out to hit the mid-eighties, and there was a nice breeze rolling down from the mountains. The entire community was full of amazing barbecue scents, drinking, and laughter. It was summer in a snapshot.
And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, Wren rounded the trees at the edge of the lot.
Her hair was down and straight, blowing back behind her as she walked toward where Ron and I stood. She smiled, aviator sunglasses lifting a little from where they rested on her cheeks, hands tucked into her tiny, ripped up jean shorts. I’d known she was beautiful from the first second I saw her, but now that I knew the girl under the skin? I realized she was the kind of beautiful that made you wonder if everything you’d thought was beautiful before actually was. She was the naked-eye eclipse, sunset over the ocean, thousand feet waterfall kind of beautiful.
“Morning, Ron,” she said when she reached us, still squinting even though she wore her shades.
He grunted in her direction and she chuckled before turning to me. Her smile slipped a little.
“Hi.” She barely breathed the word, and I felt more than just a greeting behind it.
I wanted to reach for her, kiss her cheek, pull her in close, but I didn’t know if I could. I didn’t know how she was feeling, or why she bailed last night, or what her mom had said.
“Hey, you.”
She lifted up on her toes to kiss me, short and sweet, and then she threaded her arm under mine to rest a hand around my waist. I sighed with relief, putting my own arm over her shoulder and tucking her into my side as we turned back toward the pit. I knew that she wasn’t okay, but she was letting me hold her, which made me think that maybe we were.
Ron was just putting the last of the bamboo back in place and he stood, wiping the dirt from his hands.
“So there’s a pig under there, huh?” Wren asked.
“There is.”
She laughed. “Never in my life would I have ever imagined I’d be at a pig roast in the mountains.”
“Is it everything you hoped it would be?”
“That is yet to be determined,” she said, twisting in my grasp to face me. She hooked her arms around my neck. “Ready to show me the ropes?”
I grinned. “Are you ready?”
“Born that way.”
I laughed, but paused when she lifted her sunglasses and rested them on top of her head. Her eyes were a little puffy, even with the makeup she’d applied, and I reached out to run my thumb along her jaw.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, leaning into my touch. “I am.”
“You want to talk about what happened yesterday?”
Wren nodded again. “I do, but not right now, okay? Today I want to play horseshoes and eat pig and run around the loop in a ridiculous costume.”
I pulled her closer with another laugh, leaning down to kiss her. “Yes ma’am.”