All single days that changed my life. The first two made it worse but the last one definitely made it better.
I met Chris and we fell in love. I met his father and they gave me a new home. I gave birth. That was a good day.
But then I left the baby behind and that was bad.
Still, life went on. Just like AJ said. And more good things happened. I got pregnant again. Had another baby and this time I got to keep her.
But then Daniel got sick and died.
But still there were Chris and Bonnie. We raised Bonnie for almost two years before the “accident”. We had two glorious years as a real family.
The thing that scares me the most about this game of life is that you’re never safe. Like AJ said, you never win. We all know we’re going to lose.
I understood this before AJ gave me his pep talk. Instincts, I guess. But no one has ever spelled it out like that before. I guess anyone who doesn’t figure this out is just in denial. Or dumb. But everyone plays the game at their own pace.
So he’s right. It’s the experiences that count. The memories. The time we get.
This is just life.
And even though it feels like we’re all playing by different rules because there are men out there like Damon and women out there like me, and some people are born rich and some are born super poor, and some are smart, and some are not, and some get more chances, more lucky breaks, we’re still playing by the same rules.
We’re born. We live. We die.
That’s it.
What we do with the live part is up to us.
So I could take those pills and end the game early. But what will I miss? What experiences are waiting for me if I don’t check out early? What could I learn that I haven’t yet learned? Where could I go? Who could I meet?
If you had asked me the day before I escaped from Damon if I would ever be happy again I’d have said no.
Never. Ever. Life sucks. Kill me now. I’m done.
But I’d have missed out on so, so much. All the best days of my life came after that one day.
Maybe Logan will kill me tomorrow and it’s over. Just like that.
Or maybe he won’t and I try something new?
Maybe I give AJ a try?
And maybe Logan does too?
I don’t know. It’s all too much to think about right now. I’m tired. And I drank too much today. And I didn’t eat.
But I have no energy left to deal.
Logan takes my hand just as we get to the stairs and leads me up to the apartment door. Inside it’s chillier than it was earlier. The fire in the wood stove is just glowing embers now.
Logan doesn’t let go of my hand as he leads me down the hallway to the bedroom. Not until we reach the bed and he tosses all the throw pillows off—something we didn’t even take time to do earlier—and pulls the comforter back.
I sigh at the bed. It’s not the bed I shared with Chris. So that’s not why I’m suddenly too tired to climb in.
I just… can’t see past this day. No matter how hard I try, I can’t find a future.
“Tomorrow,” Logan says. “We can think about it tomorrow.”
Which is a concession of sorts. Because he was still hell-bent on killing me just thirty minutes ago.
AJ drops his pants to the floor and walks around to the other side of the bed, gets in and then extends his hand to me. “Come on,” he says. “Just sleep. I’m too tired to think.”
So I get in as Logan takes off his pants too. And then he gets in and flicks off the bedside table lamp.
I lie there between them, my fully-clothed body between their naked ones, and wonder how the hell I got here.
AJ slips his arm underneath me, pulling me into his chest like we’re lovers, when we’re not. I don’t know. That makes me sad for some reason. This all feels very… pretend.
But he doesn’t seem to care. Because he hugs me tight and leans his head against mine.
I look over at Logan, who I can’t really see. He’s just a faint outline of shadow from a bit of light filtering in from the window. But I think his eyes are open. I think he’s staring at me.
“I’m sorry,” he says. Kinda out of nowhere.
“For what?”
“For not helping you. Back when you were with Damon. I should’ve… I dunno. Done something, I guess.”
“Like what? Save me?” It comes out snarky, which I didn’t intend. Which means it’s real snark and not me being a bitch. Which is worse. Because he’s trying, I guess. I don’t know at what. But still, he’s trying.