“I’m afraid not.”
My mind can’t process all that’s happening. I continue to suffer loss after loss. I’ve spent the last few weeks trying to find a way to make ends meet. I start to make progress, get one thing paid off, only to learn about a half dozen new credit cards that he took out in my name. Thanks to online accounts, all he needed was my social and date of birth. I’m legally responsible for all of it. It’s a never-ending nightmare that I can’t wake from.
I stand, grab my purse, and walk out without another word. Nothing I can say will change anything. My kids and I will be homeless, we’re broke, and we have no other option. I can’t get a loan with no income and ruined credit. And I don’t have time to explore other options.
Once I arrive back home, I look around feeling conflicted. I don’t want to leave, but I also don’t want to be here. The boys don’t understand why I sleep on the couch most nights. But being in that king-size bed reminds me that he left.
Slowly, I climb the stairs to my bedroom. I remove the pearl earrings, which Todd bought me on our wedding day, and clutch them in my hand, feeling the prick from the backs before I launch them across the room. “Damn you!” I scream as I grab the photo of us that sits on my dresser.
“Lies! You lied! You broke me!” I yell at the man in the photo. “I loved you! I believed you when you said you’d never hurt me.” My voice cracks. “You didn’t hurt me! You destroyed me. You destroyed the boys because you’re selfish! Selfish!” I throw the photo to the ground and the glass splinters into tiny shards. “You!” Tears fall. “You did this. You couldn’t stick it out, so you leave us to deal with it? Is that it?” My head falls back as I talk to the ceiling.
I’ve tried so hard to keep myself together. Each day I gather enough strength to get Cayden and Logan to school before I crawl back to bed. I’ve lived my entire life with someone taking care of me. I don’t know how to be this woman. My father, him , and then Todd have defined who I am. Now, I’m the widow.
I’m the girl whose husband tragically died.
If they only knew.
My eyes close as I try to get my emotions in check. The boys will be home in a few hours, and I need a plan.
The doorbell rings before I have a chance to even think.
“Jeff,” I say quietly. “I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Can I come in, Presley?”
I open the door and wave my arm, inviting in Todd’s old boss. “What can I do for you?”
He looks at the mess, and for the first time, I see it all. Dishes stacked, clothes in piles, and open chip bags. I cringe. Chips are all I’ve been eating for two weeks.
“How are you holding up?”
Jeff and Todd were extremely close. They helped turn the investment firm into what it is. Each of them were promoted around the same time and handled top accounts. For their ages, the money they made was remarkable.
“What do you care?” I ask with disdain dripping from each syllable.
He lets out a heavy sigh before his hands grip the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to the funeral. I couldn’t believe he . . . I mean, I never thought he would . . .”
Only Angie and my in-laws know it was suicide. His words now tell me that he knows as well.
My lips part as my chest aches. “You knew this was possible?” I struggle to intake air. “You knew he was thinking about this?”
“I didn’t think he was serious, Presley. Not him. Not like this.”
Each breath is labored. I step back, the backs of my knees hit the couch, and I sink down. “You could’ve stopped him.” My vision becomes blurred with tears. “You could’ve told me or anyone. If you had, maybe this wouldn’t be my goddamn life.”
“If I thought for one second he was serious, I would have,” he explains. I look at him as he crouches in front of me with a pained expression. “I swear.”
My body shakes as I feel everything come rushing forward. It’s as if I walked in on him all over again. All I can do is sit here in disbelief. He went to Jeff and didn’t come to me. But Jeff didn’t tell us. All of this is so fucked-up. I fight back the urge to scream. Why couldn’t he trust me?
Jeff grips my hand. “He came to the office and begged me to rehire him. I explained that I couldn’t. The investors didn’t want to work with him after the money he lost on a bad tip. No accounts were going to trust him, but he begged still. He told me he was desperate and he hadn’t told you he was fired,” he pauses, drawing in a deep breath. “I explained that my hands were tied, but if I could help—I would.”
I can tell he wants to say more. I squeeze my eyes as the beads of moisture fall down my cheeks. “Go on,” I murmur.