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Long shadows and the last glimmering rays of sunlight greeted my eyes as they fluttered open. Pulling my brain from its sleep fog, I registered that someone was knocking on the front door. I fumbled around and finally found my cell phone on the coffee table in front of me, blinking twice when I saw that it was six o’clock in the evening.
I jumped off the sofa, where I’d apparently napped away the entire afternoon, and jogged to the front door. I had no idea who was there or how long they’d been knocking. I couldn’t believe I’d slept so long. It seemed like I’d just sat down to check my e-mail, but that was three hours ago. Obviously I’d been more tired than I’d realized.
Opening the front door, I was surprised to see Bridget from next door standing beside the older woman I’d seen her with at the beach.
“Hello.” I smiled, confused as to why they were there.
“Hi, Hope. This is my Grandma June. I told her about you, and she wanted to meet you. We brought cookies, too.” Bridget smiled and extended a plate of delectable, homemade chocolate chip cookies. My mouth practically watered as I invited them into the kitchen, placing the cookies on the table.
“It’s nice to meet you, Hope. Bridget said the two of you made friends, so we decided we would bring you some cookies.” June patted me kindly on the shoulder as she smiled. I wasn’t usually comfortable around strangers, but she exuded a calming air that immediately put me at ease. She struck me as the kind of woman to whom you could spill your entire life story without even realizing you’d done so.
“Thank you very much. What a thoughtful gesture!” I couldn’t believe they had gone out of their way to make something for me, a practical stranger.
“Chocolate chip’s my favorite. I hope you like them.” Bridget smiled widely and I noticed she had a look of metamorphosis about her, as if she wasn’t yet what she would be. She was a bit skinny and gangly, all arms and legs, but I could tell she would be stunning when she grew into herself. She also had a wise, knowing look that seemed to see something in me that I was trying to hide. It was a bit unnerving.
“Your intuition is great, Bridget. Chocolate chip’s my favorite too. Would the two of you join me in having one with a cup of tea?” I offered.
“We would love to, Hope, but I have to get Bridget started on her homework. It’s a school night, right, Miss Bridget?” June ruffled her granddaughter’s hair and I smiled as Bridget rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Sure, Grandma June, homework sounds way better than cookies.” Sarcasm practically dripped from the little girl’s tongue. It took all of my willpower not to laugh out loud.
“Well, thank you so much. I’m touched by your kindness. Let’s get together sometime soon?” I said as I led them to the front door.
“Of course, dear.” June smiled at me, and then turned to Bridget. “Darling girl, you run home and get started on your homework.”
“All right, Grandma. See you, Hope!” Bridget bid me a reluctant farewell and trudged next door to follow her grandma’s instructions.
“Dear, how is your mother?” June turned back to me as soon as Bridget was out of earshot. Her question caught me off guard. I’d had no idea she was acquainted with Mom or her situation. Obviously they were neighbors, but Mom wasn’t very social. The surprise must have shown on my face, because June continued by way of explanation. “It’s a small town, you know. These things get around.”
“Well, she had surgery today, and Dr. Riddles says the prognosis is good. She’ll still have to do chemo when she’s stronger, though. That’s going to be tough for her.” I didn’t want to say too much, but it was so kind of her to ask about Mom.
“I lost my husband to cancer, Hope, so please, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Sometimes the disease is nearly as hard on those who are the caretakers.” June reached out and patted my shoulder again, and I had the sudden longing to be cradled in this woman’s maternal arms. It was the strangest sensation. I was obviously an emotional basket case.
Rather than embarrass both of us by throwing myself at her, I blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. And thank you for the cookies.”
“You’re welcome, dear. We will see each other soon.” She smiled again before she turned and headed home.
I walked back inside, still surprised at the kindness of my neighbors. I’d lived in New York for ten years and had no idea who my neighbors were. My stomach growled in hunger, and I realized I hadn’t eaten since the hospital. I glanced at the plate of cookies on the table. I could do one of two things: I could make a nutritious dinner, or I could singlehandedly devour the cookies. The decision was obvious. I removed the plastic wrap and took a bite of the first cookie. It was gooey, soft, and still warm. Basically, it was heaven on a plate. I made quick work of the first one and was about to move greedily onto the next when I heard my phone ringing.
Grabbing it off the coffee table, I answered without glancing at the display. As soon as I heard his voice, I kicked myself for not screening the call. It was Jonathan, the last person on earth with whom I wanted to have a conversation.
“Hope, don’t hang up,” Jonathan, who knew me too well, said quickly.
“What do you want?” I asked testily.
“To talk. Just to talk.” His voice, as well known to me as my own, sounded like everything safe and comfortable.
I wanted nothing more than to collapse into his familiarity after the stressful day I’d had. The temptation to unburden myself to the man with whom I’d shared a large portion of my life was strong. He had a way of making problems seem more bearable, and that was one of the things I missed about him. I reminded myself that I couldn’t do it; he was no longer that person to me.
“We have nothing to say to each other, Jonathan.” I steeled myself to deliver the words that needed to be said.
“Fine. Don’t say anything then. Just listen.” His voice was pleading.
“Nothing you say will change what happened. It’s over.”
“Babe, I screwed up, big-time. But I miss you. I need you back. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
“No! If I can’t trust you, there’s nothing left for us.”
“Please don’t say that! We’ve been together since we were kids. It can’t be over. It won’t ever be over.”
“Good-bye, Jonathan.” I clicked End on my phone before he could say another word, because I knew that he might persuade me if he kept talking.
Fresh tears started to fall; it seemed that crying was all I could do lately. I curled up on the sofa and let them come. It was just me now; I didn’t have to be strong. If I were being honest with myself, I did miss Jonathan. He was right, we’d spent so much of our lives together, and he was the only family I’d had for years. Would it really be so bad to forgive him? Maybe we could go to counseling and start over? I knew other couples who’d successfully done that.
But even as the thought began to form in my brain, I knew it wasn’t ever going to happen. To me, honesty was everything. If I couldn’t trust him, I couldn’t be married to him. I would always be wondering where he was and who he was with. My suspicion would drive me crazy. No amount of counseling would change that.
I knew I hadn’t been a perfect wife, but the one thing I’d always been was honest. I deserved the same courtesy. I knew with certainty that my marriage was over, and as much as it pained me to admit it, this was the first thing I’d been sure about in a really long time.
Despite the fact that I’d spent the entire afternoon sleeping, I was exhausted. I knew my fatigue wasn’t really physical; I was emotionally drained. I felt as if my heart had been plowed over by a bulldozer, so I locked up the house and headed upstairs. The problem was, I didn’t want to sleep; I honestly had no idea what I wanted. I was tired, but restless, so I went into my bedroom and flopped onto my childhood bed in exasperation. My life was officially a big, complicated mess.
Looking out the large window next to my bed, I saw that it was a rare, clear night. It was so clear that I could actually see the stars, and suddenly, I knew exactly what I needed; I needed a moment of clarity. Grabbing my sweater and a fluffy blanket, I unlocked the window. It creaked and groaned as I pushed it open and removed the screen. I poked my head outside and looked down. My stomach flipped when I saw that the ground was a great distance away. It was much farther away than I remembered.
“Don’t be a baby, Hope. You used to do this all the time.” I gave myself a pep talk as I carefully eased my body out the window and onto the roof. My legs were actually shaking as I attempted to secure my footing on the sloped roof. Almost-thirty-year-old women did not climb out windows onto roofs. I was too old for this, and would most certainly lose my footing and plummet to my death. Obviously, I’d been much braver as a teenager, because I never thought twice about it then. What was I thinking? This was quite possibly the worst idea I’d ever had.
With a death grip on the side of the house to keep me stable, I slowly lowered myself to a sitting position. My heart was running laps inside my chest, and I willed it to slow down. I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders, hoping to stop the chattering of my teeth. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if they were chattering from the cold or from absolute fear.
Once I was situated, I looked around and the old familiar feeling began to replace the fear. I used to come out here nearly every night, rain or shine, when I was a teenager. It was the one place where I felt like I could truly escape all expectations and just be still. As I glanced at the house next door, I was painstakingly reminded that this was just another thing I’d shared with Sam. This was our nightly meeting place. His bedroom window was across from mine, and we would both climb out and sit on the roofs of our houses.
Most of the time we didn’t talk, but we didn’t need to. We just shared the moment in easy silence, communicating only with a look. With Sam and me, words weren’t always necessary, and as I came to find out, sometimes my need for words did far more damage than silence ever could. There wasn’t another human being in the entire world that I’d ever felt as close to as I had Sam, not even Kelsey. I’d never believed in soul mates until I fell in love with him, but if two people were ever meant to be together, I knew it was us.
I was certain, even with everything that happened later, that Sam believed it too. That’s why losing him hurt so much. For the last ten years, I’d been haunted by the ghosts of what might have been. Living among those ghosts was painful, knowing every day that you’re dying inside, yet not being able to do anything about it.
These days, Sam was my past, but at one time, he’d been my future. I felt like I’d always been living in the shadow of that future. My life after him was just a quasi-life, something I existed inside of, but never really lived. It was a far cry from the life we’d planned together. In the recklessness of youth, we’d thrown away any possibility of that life we’d planned in one terrible night. Sam and I were both passionate, and sometimes that fire burned so intensely that we said or did things we didn’t mean in the heat of the moment. I was guiltier of that than he was. I remembered distinctly the night it all unraveled.
It was November of our senior year in high school and we had been walking along the beach. Like a careless little girl who had no idea the treasure she held in her hand, I’d started a silly argument with Sam. I’d made a jab about him being interested in one of our classmates, Annie. Everyone in school had known that Annie liked Sam. She made no secret of the fact that she would steal him from me if she could. She’d flirted shamelessly with him, throwing herself at him any time she had the opportunity. He had tried his best to ignore her advances, but she was difficult to ignore. Annie and I had never gotten along. She’d been popular, wild, and a free spirit; she’d been everything I wasn’t. At the time, I didn’t understand that I was jealous of her in many ways, but the maturity of ten years had given me some perspective on that. I had since realized that I’d felt threatened by her, worried that Sam might want a girl like Annie. Most of the guys in school had.
Earlier that day, Annie’s friend had told me that she’d seen Annie and Sam in the hallway together, making plans with each other to meet up later that night. I should have known that it was meant to get under my skin; I should have taken it for what it was. Instead, I began to doubt Sam’s loyalty to me. Had they made plans to meet? Was he interested in her? For the rest of the day, jealousy and insecurity ate at me. It wouldn’t let up. That night, as we’d walked along the beach, I’d unleashed it on Sam, accusing him of having a thing for her. Deep inside, I’d known it wasn’t true, but for some reason, I’d said it anyway. Of course, he denied that he was interested in her, and tried to calm my rage, but I was unrelenting. The more he’d denied it, the more I’d accused him. I’d allowed the rumors to get under my skin and chip away at the only thing I’d ever been sure of—Sam’s love for me. I’d yelled things at him, hateful things that could never be taken back.
“I hate you, Sam! I never want to see you again!” I’d screamed through my sobs. It couldn’t have been further from the truth, but I’d flung the words at him anyway.
In all of our arguments, I’d never said that before, and I could tell from the look on his face that I’d broken his heart. I was not in control of my emotions that night, and nothing he said would change my mind. Determined to hold my ground, I walked home and refused to answer his calls. I stewed in my own self-righteousness for a while, certain that I’d done nothing wrong. But the more I thought about it, the more I understood that Annie and her friend had played me for a fool. I did the exact thing she wanted me to do—break up with Sam.
As I began to understand that, my rage and indignation turned into shame and regret, but I was still too stubborn to back down. For the next few days, I’d avoided all the places that I might run into Sam; I didn’t go on the roof at all. I knew he was there. I saw him sitting outside each night, silently pleading with me to talk to him. Instead of giving in, I’d rudely closed the blinds so I wouldn’t see him sitting there. Inside, my heart was breaking. I’d wanted to fix the damage I’d caused, but I didn’t know how. So instead, I masked the confusion with anger.
My irrational feelings lasted for over two weeks. I finally came to my senses and decided to beg him to forgive me and forget it. He loved me and I loved him, and that was all that really mattered. I had been certain I could make things just fine again. But my own fear and embarrassment got in the way, and it took me another six weeks before I finally worked up the nerve to face him.
I’d never forget the day I walked to his house and rang his doorbell; it was a day that would be forever etched into my brain. I’d smiled apologetically when he’d answered the door, praying that he would see the contrition on my face and know that I still loved him and was so sorry for everything I’d said to him. As soon as I saw his face, I knew that he’d been crying. I reached out for his hand, but instead of grabbing mine, he pulled away as if it were on fire.
“I’m sorry for what I said, Sam. It was stupid of me to accuse you of wanting to be with Annie. I know you love me, and I love you. Is there any way you can forgive me?” I remembered how my voice quivered with fear and nervousness.
I’d begged him to take me back, throwing away every ounce of pride that I still had. Nothing I said made one bit of difference. I’d been so sure when I knocked on his door that I could easily fix the situation I’d created, but when his face crumpled and the tears began to spill, I knew that was impossible.
My entire world changed that afternoon on his porch. Instead of winning back the love of my life, I realized I’d lost him forever. For many years I tried to blame him for what happened. I convinced myself for a while that his actions had destroyed everything. As I thought about it that night on the roof, though, I admitted for the first time that I was the only one to blame. I’d accused Sam of something he’d never done. I’d told him I never wanted to see him again. I’d been the one who’d crushed our dreams of a future together. In a moment of weakness and anger at me, Sam went straight to the girl I’d accused him of wanting. He and Annie had a one-night stand, and that mistake would change all our lives forever.
I would never get to make things right with Sam. In fact, I never spoke to him again after that day. I remember my heart being ripped in two as he told me it was impossible for us to be together; he and Annie were getting married after graduation. He felt it was best to make a family for the baby they’d created the night I broke up with him.
