THIS IS THE longest day I’ve had in a while at the salon. Skye and I both had bridal parties booked and then several teenage girls walked in, handing me a picture of a celebrity and wanting to look like her. I had the urge to tell them I didn’t have a magic wand. Instead, I cut their hair the best I could to match the photo, but I know it won’t look the same in the morning for them.

All I want to do is go home and rest. I groan as I reach the back office, remembering my parents are still at my apartment. My back is sore from sleeping on the couch. I can’t ask them to go to a hotel, and they still haven’t told me when they’re leaving. I’m not rushing them out, but I want to sleep in my own bed.

Once I finish the books, I lock everything and head home. When I reach my car, I see something on the windshield. A ticket? How did I get a ticket and what’s that with it? Once I can get a closer look, there is a gardenia, my favorite flower, with a letter attach to it.

“Jordan,” I sigh out loud. I don’t even have to look at the letter to know it’s from him. When we dated and all throughout our marriage, Jordan constantly left notes and wrote me letters. He would even mail me postcards while he was on the road with the team. He could always express his feelings better on paper.

I don’t read the letter. I just throw it into passenger seat, along with my purse and bag. I can’t deal with him right now. I have enough on my plate. Maybe I should call the lawyer again and see if he can rush the paperwork. Jordan is holding on for no reason. I’m not going back to him or our marriage.

I try not to think about it as I drive home. I crank up the radio, hoping the songs drown my thoughts for a bit. By the time I reach the apartment, I’m wondering if I should read the letter or throw it away.

When I unlock the door, I make up my mind. I’m not going to read it. I’ll throw it out.

“Ouch.” I trip over a luggage bag sitting near the door. “Mom! Dad!”

“What are you yelling for?” Dad asks as he comes out of the bedroom, rolling more luggage behind him.

Are they leaving?

“What’s happening here?” I point to the bags.

“Well…” Dad looks over his shoulder to Mom, who is coming out of the bathroom with her makeup bag.

“We’re staying with Jordan for a while,” Mom informs me.

“Wait, what? You’re staying at Jordan’s house?” I must have heard her incorrectly.

“Jordan invited us to stay with him for a few days. This way, you can get a break from us, and the boys can work on the car.” Mom quickly hugs me and then Dad does too.

“Oh, hey,” Dad smiles. “Jordan got us tickets to the game tomorrow night. Why don’t you come and hang out with us?”

My head’s still spinning about them leaving. “I’ll think about it,” I say, even though I know I’m not going.

And just like that they’re gone.

“What the hell?” I ask the now empty studio apartment. Even though I wanted some space, I’m a little sad they just left without really talking to me. I mean, they don’t have to tell me every single detail, but a heads up would have been nice.

I toss everything down onto my coffee table and go into the kitchen to pour myself some wine. After my first sip, I hear my mother in my head, asking if I’ve eaten. She kept hounding me every chance she got, telling me to eat something instead of drinking.

I sit the glass on the counter. I haven’t eaten today and I should grab something. I grab my purse and rifle through until I find my phone; the letter from Jordan falls onto the floor. I pick it up and inspect my name written on the outside of the envelope. His handwriting looks like chicken scratch, but I’m able to read it with ease.

“Damn.” My girly side wants to know what he said, and the adult side of me says to leave it alone. I stare at it for another second before ripping it open and reading. I can’t stop the tears at his words. “Damn,” I cuss as I read the letter again. He’s so expressive on paper and there are so many times I wish he would say it to me without me having to read it. Then again, I usually fly off the handle for one reason or another before he can finish. I’ve been known to have a temper, but after Eden…

I can’t think about her right now. Dealing with Jordan, the divorce, and my parents is enough. I wipe the tears away. I should always put Eden first, but I’ve cried enough tonight.

“No.” I harshly wipe my cheeks again. Jordan is going to stop this right now. I will not have him confuse me and that’s exactly what he’s doing. I dial his number and wait for him to answer.

“Why are you dragging this out? The divorce papers will be here soon and I will sign them. Don’t you understand this?” I start in on him right away.

“I understand it very well. I’m not dragging it out. I’m just not giving up yet.” Jordan has always been hardheaded.

“Stop it. Just stop. Do I need to hit you upside the head with a baseball bat to make you see? We are over! There is no us or we. We’re not a family, friends, lovers, or anything else!” My voice keeps raising and now I’m pacing.

“You’re only mad because you read it. The fact that you read it instead of throwing it away shows that there is an us,” he calls me out. Damn it, he thinks he knows me so well.

“I read it to make sure you didn’t want to change anything in the divorce papers,” I lie. Jordan never goes back on his word.

“Bullshit. If that were the case, I would have contacted Mr. Armstrong. You read it because you wanted to know what I’d written.”

“Well...I...shit!” I stammer because I know he’s right. “That doesn’t mean anything.” I stop pacing to yell at him louder through the phone. “You are such a meddler! I bet anything you and my parents are plotting some way to kidnap me and brainwash me in some dungeon. We’re not in love with each other anymore! You’re in love with a girl you met years ago. I’m not her anymore. I’ve changed! I’ve grown up, and I’ve moved on!”

“No, you haven’t, Heidi!” It’s his turn to holler at me. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have read it and you wouldn’t have called me to bitch about me doing it. Do you even realize that because of one simple letter, this is the first time you’ve called me since you left? The first time we’ve talked this long since then outside of Mr. Armstrong’s office? And you know what, I’m happy you’re pissed. I hope you stay pissed and get even more pissed off when you find the next one because that is better than nothing.”

“There is no next one, Jordan. This is over. This is over. I will keep saying it over and over until you understand. I want you to move on. Go on dates and mingle. I’m sure some of those younger guys on the team are single and like strip clubs or whatever.”

“Do you even care what happens to me? If I die tomorrow, are you going to be happy because I won’t be around to meddle with you getting me out of your life? Because that’s going to have to happen for me to not give you the next one, for me to accept it’s over.”

I take a deep breath as his words sting my heart. I need to calm down. We were married and we did, at one time, love each other. “I would be sad if anything happened to you. I do care for you, Jordan. We were married for several years and had a child together. We lived through a lot of heartache together. In my heart, there’s a permanent place for you that will always be there. But it’s the not the same feelings they once were.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say because you don’t want to hear it. I’m not giving up without a fight, but it’s nice to know you are and wish I could do the same.” He uses a calming, yet sarcastic tone now.

“You are hardheaded.” I pause for a beat. “My parents are on the way there to spend time with you. Will you please make sure Dad doesn’t eat steak every night? His blood pressure is high. And don’t spend twenty-four hours on the car. He isn’t twenty-years-old. He needs to rest.”

“I know. I would ask if you’re coming with them to the game, but I know that would be useless unless I promised to sign the papers the day I get them or something. If you’re happy now that you’ve gone off on me and torn me down, I’m going to get off here to finish putting sheets on the bed for your parents.”

“Jordan, wait, I’m sorry I yelled. If you promise to sign the papers right away, then I will come to the game tomorrow night. Deal?”

“No, because I don’t want that to be why you’re there. I’m sure that would count as meddling. Go on a date or go mingle instead.”

“I...I’m just going to hang up Jordan.” I end the call and feel the tears building up.

***