Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“Yes, he has. It shows that he was on just over an hour ago. I posted it three hours ago. And he’s following less than a hundred people. There’s no way my photo didn’t show up in his feed.”
“So … why do you think he didn’t like it?”
“Because it’s a wedding. And we’re still married because he hasn’t sent me divorce papers. And … I don’t know. I’m going crazy. Why … why do I care if he likes my photos. I’m so stupid.” I close my eyes and blow out a long breath.
“You know … there’s nothing saying that you can’t send him divorce papers.”
It’s nice of Leah to state the obvious. I know this. Just like I knew I could have texted or called him last winter when I was going crazy.
I know. I really do know.
It’s possible I’m not moving forward as much as I thought. It’s possible our keeping in touch via Instagram isn’t the best mode of communication. The only thing that’s worse than the inability to contextualize messages is the complete ambiguity of emojis and the timing of liking one’s social media posts.
“I keep thinking…” I roll toward Leah, propping my head onto my bent arm “…that I’ll figure my shit out if I just take enough pictures, if I can just make sense of the world, piece it together like a puzzle.”
She scoots down and mirrors my pose while exhaling and offering a warm smile. “Mmm … I like that sentiment. I’ve never thought about it like that. You’re wise for a young, orphaned adult.”
I roll my eyes. “Funny. My mom had very little to do with molding me into the woman I’ve become, but the one thing she said in defense of her own actions—during a rare moment of sobriety and clarity—has become quite relevant in my own life. She said, ‘The most complicated relationship you will ever have is the one with yourself. We are our own greatest mystery, our own biggest challenge. Life isn’t a quest to find ourselves; it’s a quest to define ourselves.’”
Leah hums again, eating up every word I speak. And right now, I have so many words because my mind won’t stop racing with a million thoughts. In a world filled with all kinds of definitions and labels—child, friend, daughter, woman, photographer, lover—how do I put them in order of importance? Or does it depend on the day or time in my life?
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Zach
“Happy birthday, bro.” Aaron hugs me right before we’re seated at my favorite steak house. Danielle has been put on bed rest, and our parents are in Seattle visiting friends.
“Thanks. How’s Danni?”
“Bored.” He rolls his eyes. “But good.” His smile is gold. I’ve never seen him so happy. “How’d you get your birthday off?”
I shrug as we take a seat and open our menus. “Just luck, I guess. I have an early flight tomorrow, though.”
“Did you ever call Sadie?”
I nod. “I did.”
“And …” He glances up at me from his menu. “Did you go out with her?”
I nod slowly.
“And?”
“She’s nice.”
“Nice,” Aaron repeats.
“No one will be Suzanne. You know that, right? I mean, surely your therapist has worked that shit out with you.”
“I’m not seeing a therapist anymore.”
Aaron eyes me.
“Don’t give me that look.” I roll my eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Fine, huh? Okay, so are you seeing Sadie again?”
“I don’t know. And it’s not because I’m expecting her or anyone to be Suzanne. I’m just not sure what I’m looking for in a relationship at the moment.”
“Would it have anything to do with the fact that you’re married to a woman you never see? If Emersyn’s working, making decent money, I don’t understand why you’re still married.”
“I’ve been busy,” I murmur, acting overly interested in the menu when I know exactly what I’m going to order because I always order the same thing here.
“Busy? It’s a phone call to your attorney. That’s it. Where is she anyway? When’s the last time you talked to her?”
I set my menu on the table and take a sip of my water. “It’s been a while. I follow her Instagram posts. This morning she departed for London. Leah’s mom is doing better, so they’ve decided to spend the summer in Europe. I pieced that much together from both Leah’s and Emersyn’s posts. She texted me happy birthday.” I look around the restaurant, feeling Aaron’s gaze on me, inspecting me, judging me.
“Do you have feelings for her like she clearly has or had feelings for you at my wedding?”
“Feelings,” I scoff like it’s a crazy question. “What does that even mean? We’re friends. We’re good. We’ve been through a lot. Of course, I care about her.”
“Yeah, I get that. Obviously. You married her to give her insurance. But have you had feelings for her that go beyond friendship? Mom thinks she’s in love with you. Danni does too. They agree that Emersyn wouldn’t have acted so crazy had it not been love.”