Fake Marriage Box Set

He put a hand on my shoulder, offering me comfort, which only caused a million more tears and another round of choking sobs.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, in a low, gentle voice.

I looked at him through watery eyes. “It’s T-Talia’s b-birthday,” I stammered. “It’s the first birthday without her. I didn’t know it would be this h-hard,” I choked out, as another round of uncontrollable sobs took over.

“I’m sorry, Tessa. There are going to be a lot of firsts, and they are really rough. I wish I could take away the pain, I truly do. I don’t have any shiny words of wisdom, and the last thing you want to hear are a bunch of empty platitudes. Just let it out. That’s all I can tell you,” he said, awkwardly patting my shoulder from a safe distance.

I had plopped back down in my seat, unable to continue standing as the sobs racked my body. Once I felt completely wrung out, I looked up at him, embarrassed. His hand was still on my shoulder, and he looked uncomfortable, making me feel like a complete idiot.

“Hold on,” he said, leaving my side. I covered my face with my hands, praying the whole thing had been a nightmare. This was worse than showing up to class naked.

He returned, holding a box of tissues out to me. I took several and did my best to clean up my face, praying there wasn’t any snot. I was so glad I hadn’t bothered with eye makeup. That would have been the icing on the cake.

He stood close. “I know it’s hard, Tessa. Have you been to any grief counseling at all?” he asked, putting his hand on my back this time.

I shook my head no.

“Support groups or something like that?”

Another shake of my head.

“You need to talk to someone. This stuff will eat you alive. It doesn’t make you weak,” he said, squatting down to look at me eye-to-eye. “I don’t think I’m weak and I spent plenty of time talking with a therapist.”

I looked at him. “Your situation is different. Your loss is far greater than mine. I’m glad you had someone. I’ll be okay. Most of the time I am, this one kind of snuck up on me, I guess.”

He smiled. “Yes, you will be okay, but wouldn’t it be nice if you could tell someone what you’re feeling before you have these breakdowns? I can tell you from experience there are plenty of sneak attacks like this still to come.”

I nodded but wasn’t ready to commit to any kind of counseling. “Oh joy. I can’t wait to do this all over again.”

“I’m sorry. I truly am, but it does get better,” he promised.

Suddenly, I felt totally ridiculous. I was sitting in a classroom bawling my head off with my professor wiping my tears. I literally had a complete snot-sling breakdown in front of him. How embarrassing is that? These things should be done in private. My mother would freak if she kn

ew. She was the consummate southern woman who followed the old rules of etiquette. One did not blubber in public; it simply wasn’t done. Even Talia’s funeral had been a very somber, yet dry affair, with everyone being so polite as to cry in the bathroom or in their cars.

“I should go. Thank you, for listening and letting me make a fool of myself,” I said, standing abruptly, and nearly knocking him on his butt.

As I finished shoving papers into my backpack, I looked at him one last time. “Seriously, thank you, and I’m really sorry I dumped all of this on you. I’m sure you have enough on your plate without that. I promise I am not normally like this.”

I rushed out the door without giving him a chance to say another word. The way he had been looking at me made me want to cry all over again. This morning he had been a complete dick. He had been aloof and ignored me, much like he had those first couple of days of class last week. Now, he was the perfect gentleman, willing to give me a shoulder to lean on.

His moods were too much for me to deal with. The last thing I needed was a basket case in my life; I already had the market cornered there. There wasn’t room enough for both of us. Walking to my car, I pulled out my phone.

Maria had texted, asking how I was doing.

I called her back. “I’m fine. I just made a complete fool of myself in front of the good professor, but I’m fine now and going home.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe you should call your mom,” she offered.

I flinched at the thought. “No, not yet. We’ll both end up bawling. No point in getting her all worked up. I’m going to crawl into bed, turn on Netflix, and binge watch Gilmore Girls.”

“Again?” her friend asked.

Laughing at that, I explained, “It’s predictable. I know nobody is going to die.”

Maria laughed. “Okay, I’ll check in with you later. There’s ice cream in the freezer.”

“Thanks,” I said, hanging up the phone.