Her by Carey Heywood

Author:Carey Heywood [Heywood, Carey]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, New Adult
Published: 2013-10-22T21:00:00+00:00

The next morning, I have breakfast with my mom, reminding her that today’s the wedding so I might just crash at the hotel if it goes late. It’s like talking to a wall. No nod, no grunt. I’m not even sure if she knows I’m here half of the time. I shake it off, but I know she’s getting worse, and by doing nothing, I’m enabling her. I just don’t know what to do. I pity her, and I know pushing her in any direction will be painful for her. She hasn’t been the best mom over the years, but she’s had to deal with more than most.

As I walk past her, I place my hand over hers and give it a squeeze. I shower and throw on an old t-shirt and some soccer shorts. I have my tux in the car. Brian is waiting for me when I pull up.

“Feeling better?”

I nod; I still don’t want to get into it.

Brian has other plans. He stops me as I go to move past him. “Sarah said something kinda cryptic last night. I just need to know if you ever did anything to hurt her.”

My mouth drops. “What did she say?”

He starts pacing in front of me. “She came by the condo to see it last night, and when I’m driving her home, I bring you up and I think I said that this whole thing was hurting you or something like that.” Then he stops to look at me. “So she replies you don’t get to hurt. That sounds like some serious shit to me. What the hell happened between you two?”

I need to sit down. I lower myself to the stairs, shaking my head. “I have no fucking clue. That’s the whole thing, Brian. She took off without a word, and I still have no fucking clue what happened. I asked her last night and all she would say was Jessica, but I don’t know what that means. Did Jessica do something that Sarah is blaming me for? I don’t get to hurt? Why does she get to decide that? I’ve been hurting for the last seven years. She’s the one that took off, not me.” I get up and start to walk back to my car.

Brian runs after me. “Come on, man. Don’t go.”

I turn and face him. I’m pissed. He can tell.

“Look, man. I believe you. I don’t know what Sarah thinks happened, but I need you standing next to me today. So what do you need? Want a shot? Need a cigarette? What?”

I rub my hand across my face. “I have no fucking clue.”

He grins, trying to hold back a laugh. “I’ve heard flower arranging can be calming.”

I didn’t. “Did you so say flower arranging?”

He snorts, and damn it, I smile.

He puts his arms around my shoulder and turns us both to face the church. “I’ve got a shitload of floral sprays in the trunk of my car that somehow need to make it into the ring at the end of every pew.

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