Fragile Bonds

I understand where she’s coming from because she was the friend left to pick up the pieces. She drove to the house when I called her, helped me load the few things I couldn’t live without into the back of her Rav4 and moved me back into the apartment we shared from the beginning of our sophomore year until Xavier bought the house, saying it was the beginning of the rest of our lives. She’s also the one who crawled into my bed in the middle of the night for months when I woke up crying because I had another dream about him.

“You sound off tonight,” she observes. I guess I’m not a very good liar. Either that or she knows me well enough to see through my crap. “Mel, I love you, but I seriously wonder if you’re insane for doing what you do. Every case takes a toll on you and you’re going to burn out. So, what is it about this one that’s getting to you?”

The microwave shuts off and I try to juggle my phone, wine glass and the plate that I’m pretty sure is burning off my fingerprints so I can finally kick back and relax. Brody, my Boston Terrier, jumps onto the couch, staring at my food. Realizing I’m not sharing, he curls up next to me and goes to sleep.

“You know I’m not going to quit, Stacey.” I put an obscenely large bite of food in my mouth, buying time before I have to say anything else. Until now, I didn’t think about the fact that I skipped lunch today. It was easier for me to stay sequestered until it was time to come home rather than risk having to see him again. If I can’t work up the courage to spend time in the kitchen when Xavier is home, I might have to start stuffing snacks in my bag each morning.

“And Alyssa is one of the best clients I’ve had.” As long as you ignore the fact that she’s married to Xavier. The fact that I like her as much as I do surprises me. Since the moment I opened my assignment email, I imagined all the reasons I wouldn’t enjoy working with Alyssa. After all, who wants to meet the woman who has pledged her life to the man you thought, at one point, you would marry and have a family with? Even when I walked into Alyssa’s room, I viewed her as the enemy, but she has a personality that I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to hate. “She’s snarky like we are, requires almost nothing from me and seems to have come to terms with what’s happening to her.”

“But?” Stacey presses. I should have known better than to answer the phone. I tip back my glass, wishing I had filled it to the top. Or figured out a way to carry the bottle into the living room with me.

“But nothing! Look, I have to get going. Alyssa’s husband has to leave early tomorrow morning and asked me if I would mind starting at six.” If I didn’t know better, I would think he asked me to come so early as some sadistic punishment. Xavier knows I don’t do mornings.

“I hope they’re paying you extra for that,” Stacey laughs, knowing how torturous it’s going to be for me to roll out of bed so early. “Anyway, I guess give me a call tomorrow night.”

She hangs up, leaving me to my freezer burned chicken alfredo and cheap red wine. After I’m done eating, I decide to be a responsible adult and go to bed. The alternative is drinking myself into a stupor, trying to forget the past, and that will only make my five o’clock alarm even more difficult to face. I turn off the television and lights, heading to bed before midnight for the first time since I can remember.



“Daddy, is Miss Melanie coming again tomorrow morning?” Jacob asks as I get him ready for his bath. I look down at my little man, pulling him tight against my chest. All afternoon, he kept asking when Melanie was going to be done taking care of Alyssa so she could spend time with him. I tried explaining to him that Melanie is not there for us, that she’s taking care of his mother, but his four year old mind wasn’t having any part of that.

“Yes, Jacob. Miss Melanie is going to be here almost every day for a while,” I respond as I test the water temperature. Knowing my luck, I’ll give Jacob second degree burns and have CPS called in. Until very recently, I haven’t been what you would call a hands-on father, but now I don’t see that I have much of a choice. Alyssa offered to give Jacob his bath, but I don’t want her overdoing it. She needs to put every ounce of energy she has into fighting the leukemia. It’ll take a miracle at this point, but I’m not ready to face the likelihood that there will be no divine intervention for her.

“She’s really pretty,” Jacob giggles as he climbs into the water. He starts sinking his toy boats in the water, squealing in delight as they resurface on their own.

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