Last Words: A Diary of Survival by Shari J. Ryan

Author:Shari J. Ryan [Ryan, Shari J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2017-10-06T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

Love you always,

Mike

* * *

Wow. I didn’t see that coming. Maybe it’s a little sad that my first thought is that someone wrote this for him, but on second thought, this must be his final attempt to gain my forgiveness.

I lower my head down to the steering wheel, as tears form in the corners of my eyes. I was never trying to change him, but I did hope he would see how much I cared about him and wanted us to work out. Investing so much time into something and then closing the door to walk away is difficult—nearly impossible—for me, but at this point, I don’t know what it means to be happy in a relationship. I used to feel it when I made him smile, but that’s just it. It was always me making him smile. He was never willing to put any effort into making me happy. The note falls from my hand, landing on my lap as it leaves me with nothing but an emptiness that fills my chest. I won’t miss him because there is nothing to miss. He gave nothing, and that’s why it’s finally over. Six years was a long time to waste, but it’s better than a whole lifetime.

I drive toward Mom’s but turn off the road when I spot the Starbucks I frequent the most. I sweep Mike’s note off my lap and take my bag with me. My focus is set on my usual table in the corner, but Chelsea stops me before I’m all the way through the door.

“Hey, girl,” she says from behind the counter. I’ve been coming here for so long, I’ve become friends with the staff. Since I don’t have a normal office, these people are the closest I have to co-workers, so I like to come here when I need social interaction. They're easy to get along with, they make me coffee, and they don't hover.

“Hey.” I wave and pull my bag off my shoulder, letting it drop to the chair I had my sights on. By the time I reach the counter, Chelsea has my grande coffee waiting for me.

“You look like you’ve been hit by a bus today,” she says, handing me the cup. I laugh at the irony, remembering Jackson's threat of being hit by a bus tomorrow.

“It has been a seriously rough week,” I tell her.

“I was wondering why I hadn't seen you here.”

“Honestly, I may need a shot of whiskey in this coffee before I fill you in on the story,” I joke with her.

She glances over her shoulder and pulls her apron off. “John, can you cover for me? I'm taking my fifteen.”

I drop five dollars down on the counter for my coffee and tip, then head over to my table where I’m supposed to be working.

Chelsea plops down in front of me. “You know I don't like to be nosy, but Mike was in here earlier,” she blurts out with an apprehensive squint to her eye.

I press my hand against the side of my face.

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