So I took a deep breath.
“I’m sure, but I’ll be back,” came my wobbly smile. “You can’t keep me down.”
And all three of us hugged tearily.
“Atta girl,” the ladies chimed. “You go.”
“Thanks guys,” I smiled again, sniffing. “I really appreciate it.”
Just then, my phone beeped with a message that my cab was waiting. “I have to go.” Picking up my rolling bag, I leaned forwards for some more hugs.
But Denise pulled away quickly.
“Oh, almost forgot,” she said. “Here.” She pressed some envelopes into my hands. “Your mail. I was supposed to give it to you yesterday, but you know, with everything going on ….” The brunette looked just about as sad as I felt.
Because I was losing everything I’d built, and it sucked. My life at school, my friends. My self-esteem and my sanity. All because of one giant mistake. My tears started to fall again, throat clamping tight.
“Thanks guys, gotta go,” I croaked.
“Bye,” Denny replied, eyes watery. “Let us help you with your bags.” She grabbed the rolling case and Jenna took the heavy purse from my shoulder.
Downstairs, the cab was already waiting. I hugged my friends goodbye again and climbed into the car. Slowly, the vehicle rolled away, and I looked out the window, eyes blurring. Would I ever be back? Would I ever finish my education?
It was impossible to say.
Talk about thwarted dreams.
I’ve never been a big career woman, but still. I had a life here, real friends, and a community. And one big mistake had sucker punched it all. But there was only myself to blame.
Listlessly, I plucked at the stack of envelopes in my lap. There were fliers for the grocery store next door, plus a charity event at a nearby fraternity.
Not for me, anymore.
Fraternity or no fraternity, I wasn’t a student any longer.
I didn’t belong.
Swallowing my sob, my eyes blurred again.
But then I saw it. At the bottom of the mail pile, there was a heavy cream-colored envelope with raised flowers on the edges. My mother’s name linked with Jake’s on the back. Holy shit, holy shit. Their wedding invitation. It was really happening, not just some made-up thing from my imagination.
I cried out from the sudden pain and slapped a hand over my mouth to smother the sound.
The driver peered at me in the rearview mirror.
“You all right, Miss?”
No. I would never be all right. But sometimes you have to pretend just to survive. So I smiled back weakly.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” was my tortured gasp.
But no, I wasn’t fine at all. With trembling hands, I opened the envelope. The wedding was tomorrow. Even though I already knew that, seeing the date in black and white letters knocked me on the head a good one.
My mom and Jake were getting married.
They were really doing it.
Tying the knot, until death do them part.
Oh my god, oh my god! What did that mean? Crazy thoughts spun me around as nausea rolled in waves, making my stomach turn.
Married.
The two of them.
Sharing the same bed.
Limbs locked together, shuddering with pleasure.
Jake doing the same things to my mom that he had done to me.
And yet, it was supposedly right for them to do those things. My mom was the right woman, not me. Amanda was the one, not me. In fact, if people knew, they’d think I was pure evil.
Bile rose in the back of my throat, and I keeled over in the seat, moaning.
The driver slammed on the brakes and the cab lurched. “Girlie, you don’t look too good!” He swung around the face me, concern in his brown eyes. “You want me to pull over?”
But we were practically pulled over already and blocking traffic to boot. I shook my head furiously, still moaning, when all the envelopes tumbled off my lap except for one.
The name leapt out in big block letters.
SAFE HAVEN – A MENTAL HEALTH COMMUNITY FOR EVERYONE.
The address on the envelope was just outside of the city. Easy to reach by taxi. I was trembling too much to make sense even to myself, but by then my mind did a hard left.
“I’m sorry,” I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and shoved the envelope with the address at the driver. “But can you take me to this location instead, please?”
He looked at the envelope and then shot me a glance of surprise and concern. And they said New Yorkers were all assholes. “Are you sure about this, honey? You know, this is a place for crazy people.”
I laughed hysterically, drawing another look from the poor dude.
“The thing is,” I stammered, barely getting the words out between chuckles. “That I am crazy! I’m a crazy person, and that’s where I need to be!” My words ended on a high-pitched yelp, eyes rolling in my head.
The driver shook his head, snapping around to face forwards. I’d scared him.