“I’m sorry you’re having insomnia.”
“Did I wake you?” she asked.
“No. And it wouldn’t have mattered if you did. How are things at home?”
“I’m feeling very lost, like I’m here but I’m not. I don’t really know how to explain it. So much of my life had been spent wondering where I came from. I feel this weird void now. But it’s more than that, more than my mother’s passing. I feel like I’m at a turning point in my life, but one where I don’t even know what my options are, only that something needs to change. Yet I don’t have the energy to think about any of it or figure it out. I haven’t even wanted to get out of bed most days.”
“That’s depression, Charlotte. I know it well, because I went through a long bout of it, especially after I was diagnosed, when my mind would go to the worst-case scenario. You’ll be okay. I promise. You just have to ride it out.”
“What would you specifically think about during that time?” she asked.
Even though I didn’t want to turn this conversation onto me, I began to open up a little.
“I’d just start to picture myself incapacitated, unable to move, stuff like that. And that would make the depression worse.”
There was some silence before she said, “You know, if someone really loves you, they would rather have any time with you than none at all, right? When you love someone, even taking care of them when they can’t take care of themselves is an honor, not a burden.”
The fucked-up thing was, I was starting to actually believe she felt that way. I just couldn’t imagine burdening someone I loved, regardless of how they saw the situation. My chest tightened. I needed to get off this subject.
“Let’s get back to you. Is this the first time you’ve ever gone through anything like this?”
“Yeah. This has never happened to me before.”
“People will tell you to just get up and do something, take your mind off it, but you can’t even pinpoint what it is. It’s just a feeling of emptiness that follows you around. Sometimes, it just needs to pass on its own. It will pass. Your mind will clear, you’ll figure out what you want, and you’ll get your spark back.”
“How are things at the office?”
Fucking miserable without you.
“Uneventful. You’re not missing out on anything. Don’t worry about that.”
“You said you have the temp there for up to thirty days?”
“Longer if need be. Just take all the time you need.”
“I might in fact need more time. I’m thinking of doing some traveling.”
My stomach dipped. “Where are you going?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Charlotte, if you need anything—money—anything for your trip, please let me know.”
“No. No, I don’t need your money. You’ve done enough for me.” There was a pause, then she said, “Anyway, I’d better let you go to sleep.”
“I can stay up all night if you need me to.”
“It’s okay. I need to try to sleep myself.”
“Call me again. Please, keep me updated.”
“I will. Good night, Reed.”
“Charlotte?”
“Yes?”
I didn’t even know why I’d called her name out, why I didn’t just let her go. It wasn’t like I could say the things I wished I could.
It’s killing me that you’re hurting.
Come home with me. Let me take care of you.
I love you.
I love you, Charlotte.
“Take care of yourself,” I simply said.CHAPTER 35
CHARLOTTE
My email notification showed I’d just received an instant payment of five thousand dollars. That was definitely the most money I’d ever gotten in one lump sum. Allison’s designer feathered wedding gown had sold on eBay in less than a day.
That hadn’t taken long at all. The dress was worth far more—at least twenty grand—but I needed the money soon to fund my trip to Europe. Well, I’d already bought the tickets, but I needed the cash to pay the hefty credit card bill that would be coming at the end of the month. The only way I could guarantee quick money was to undersell.
I hadn’t told Reed I was back in the city. As far as he was concerned, I was still in Poughkeepsie with my parents. I would only be here long enough to ship the dress and pack my things before my flight this weekend anyway.
I’d decided to fly into Paris and would spend a few days roaming the city before taking an overnight train to Rome. I’d booked a sleeper car. It wasn’t quite the scenario I’d hoped for on my Fuck-It List, but it was as close as I was going to get.
After carefully clipping Reed’s blue note out of the dress, I held the paper in my hand and read the message a few times.
To Allison—
“She said, ‘Forgive me for being a dreamer,’ and he took her by the hand and replied, ‘Forgive me for not being here sooner to dream with you.’” ?J. Iron Word